Sabha Parva

After his life was spared from the burning of the Khandava forest, Maya, the asura who was himself regarded as an architect of the gods, came before Arjuna with a deeply grateful heart and humbly asked to be allowed to do something extraordinary in return for having his life saved.

Arjuna at first politely declined to accept anything in return, saying that saving a life had not been done in expectation of reward. But Maya insisted on expressing his gratitude in some form, and it was Krishna himself who finally suggested that if Maya truly wished to do something, he should build for Yudhishthira an assembly hall so extraordinary that nothing like it existed anywhere in the three worlds.

Maya joyfully accepted this proposal, and revealed that long ago, when he had built a hall for the asura king Vrishaparva, he had gathered divine materials, gold, and jewels near Mount Kailasha, on the shores of Lake Bindusara — materials that had lain unused ever since.

He also revealed that he still possessed an extraordinary mace named Kaumudi, which had once belonged to Varuna, and a divine conch used in the assemblies of the gods — both priceless treasures which he wished to present as gifts to Bhima and Yudhishthira.

Yudhishthira accepted Maya's extraordinary offer with great humility and reverence, recognizing that this was not merely the construction of a building, but an extraordinary divine gift of craftsmanship bestowed upon Indraprastha — one that would go on to carry the glory of his newly founded capital to unprecedented heights.

Through his extraordinary craftsmanship, over fourteen months of tireless labor, Maya built a wondrous, vast hall ten thousand cubits long and wide, blending crystal, gold, gems, and silver in such an astonishing way that an ordinary person's eye could not distinguish reality from illusion within it.

In some parts of this hall, crystal floors appeared exactly like water, while elsewhere, actual pools of water were made to look, from a distance, exactly like crystal floors — and it was this very illusion-laden style of construction that would later give rise to the famous, humiliating episode involving Duryodhana, described further on in this parva.

At the center of the hall stood a vast, jewel-studded throne-chamber, surrounded by more than eight thousand rooms built for various purposes — gardens, water-sport pavilions, resting chambers, and halls furnished for the reception of guests, each one in itself a wondrous example of architectural artistry.

Along with the building of this hall, as further proof of his gratitude, Maya gifted Bhimasena the mace Kaumudi, whose very sound struck fear into the hearts of enemies on the battlefield, and presented Yudhishthira with the divine conch named Devadatta, endowed with qualities every bit as extraordinary as Arjuna's Gandiva bow.

When this celestial hall was fully completed, Yudhishthira invited ten thousand Brahmins and held a grand feast, and the divine sage Narada himself, along with many other rishis, came to Indraprastha to see this wondrous creation and bless the newly established kingdom.

The divine sage Narada was himself astonished on seeing this wondrous Maya Sabha, and sitting before Yudhishthira, he posed a long and searching series of questions about the duties of a king, the administration of justice, the system of taxation, the network of spies, and the proper way to distinguish friend from foe — testing how alert and responsible Yudhishthira truly was in upholding his rajadharma.

Yudhishthira answered each question with great humility, revealing that he was fully devoted to the welfare of his subjects, to a just system of taxation, and to governing in accordance with dharma. Narada was deeply satisfied and pleased with these answers.

In the course of this same conversation, Narada described to Yudhishthira the divine assembly of heaven, where Indra, Varuna, Yama, and Kubera each preside over their own celestial halls and rule righteously — each hall a reflection of its lord's particular qualities and powers.

Narada specifically mentioned that among these divine halls there was one more extraordinary assembly, belonging to King Harishchandra himself, who had earned this extraordinary honor in heaven through his unwavering devotion to truth. Hearing this, a deep desire awoke in Yudhishthira's heart to perform a sacrifice that might grant him the same glory.

Narada told Yudhishthira that the Rajasuya sacrifice alone was the one sacrifice capable of granting a righteous emperor this extraordinary honor — but he also gravely warned that the path to completing this sacrifice would require subduing many powerful kings, especially Jarasandha, the King of Magadha, without whose defeat this sacrifice could never be completed.

After Narada's departure, Yudhishthira sank into deep contemplation. The glory of the Rajasuya sacrifice, and the extraordinary honor it would bring, drew him strongly — but he also knew well that the campaign of conquest required for this sacrifice would prove exceedingly difficult, prolonged, and fraught with risk.

He held deep consultations on the matter with his priest Dhaumya, his brothers, and the senior ministers of the kingdom, trying to determine whether this ambitious sacrifice was truly being undertaken at the right time, under the right circumstances, or whether it was merely an ill-considered venture driven by personal desire for glory.

In the end, Yudhishthira decided that for this most important decision, he would himself seek the counsel of Krishna, Lord of Dwaraka, whom he honored not only as a close friend but also as the finest authority on the political circumstances of the entire world.

Krishna was invited to Indraprastha, and he accepted this invitation at once, presenting himself before his beloved friend Yudhishthira. He was given a grand welcome throughout the city of Indraprastha, amid great rejoicing, for the people believed that the Lord's own arrival had made their city even more sacred.

Yudhishthira laid before Krishna his entire inner dilemma — whether he should truly dare to undertake the Rajasuya sacrifice, and if so, how to deal with the greatest obstacle on this path, Jarasandha, King of Magadha, whose power and tyranny had struck fear across the whole world.

Krishna explained to Yudhishthira, with great seriousness, that Jarasandha was not merely a powerful king but a tyrannical emperor who, in the arrogance of his strength, had taken eighty-eight kings captive and imprisoned them in his temple of Shiva, with the terrible resolve that once the number of captives reached a hundred, he would sacrifice them all to please Lord Shiva.

He also reminded Yudhishthira how it was Jarasandha who had married two of his daughters to Kamsa, and how, after Kamsa's death, he had attacked Mathura seventeen times in vengeance — forcing the Yadu dynasty to eventually abandon Mathura altogether and establish the safe city of Dwaraka in the middle of the sea.

Krishna made clear that Jarasandha's strength was so extraordinary that defeating him in open battle was exceedingly difficult, for his army was vast and his allied kings innumerable — but he also revealed a hidden secret: that Jarasandha had been born as a strange, divided body in two halves, which a demoness named Jara had joined together into one — and it was from her that he took his name.

Because of this very secret, Krishna suggested that Jarasandha could not be defeated by a vast army, but only by a single, exceptionally powerful warrior skilled in single combat — for Jarasandha himself was a skilled, righteous wrestler who never refused a challenge from any Brahmin or any who sought a duel.

Hearing this, Bhimasena, whose extraordinary skill with the mace was renowned across the whole world, expressed his wish to undertake this difficult task himself. Krishna praised his courage and suggested that he and Arjuna would accompany Bhima on this expedition, so that the right strategy and support would be available should the need arise.

Krishna, Bhima, and Arjuna, all three disguised as Brahmins, set out secretly toward Girivraja, the capital of Magadha — this disguise was chosen because Jarasandha was committed to welcoming any Brahmin guest in his kingdom with honor, whatever his true purpose might be.

The city of Girivraja, surrounded by four great mountains, was extremely well-protected and difficult to approach. The three of them forced their way into the city by breaking through the sacred Chaityaka site situated on one of these mountains — a symbolic sign that they had come not as ordinary guests, but with some special, firm purpose.

Arriving at Jarasandha's court, the three presented themselves as Brahmins, but the king, seeing the marks of a bowstring on their arms and their radiant, warrior-like faces, recognized at once that these were no ordinary Brahmins, but Kshatriya heroes in disguise.

When Jarasandha asked who they were, Krishna revealed himself as a scion of the Yadu dynasty, and Bhima and Arjuna as Kuru princes, and directly charged Jarasandha, in plain words, with having committed a grave wrong by imprisoning so many innocent kings — declaring it his duty to release them at once, or else face a duel.

Jarasandha, not the least shaken by this challenge, proudly replied that he had won these kings by strength, and by strength alone would he keep them under his rule. He declared that he would indeed accept the duel, but that the choice of opponent — Bhima, Arjuna, or Krishna himself — should be given to him.

Honoring both his duty as a host and his pride as a Kshatriya, Jarasandha chose Bhimasena for the duel, even knowing that this contest might prove extremely fierce and prolonged, for Bhima's mastery of the mace and his physical strength were renowned even to him.

The two mighty warriors, without any weapons, relying only on the strength of their arms, wrestled continuously for thirteen days and nights, throwing each other to the ground, lifting one another up, and striking again — the battle was so fierce that the very earth of Girivraja trembled with its tremors.

On the fourteenth day, Bhima, remembering the hidden secret about Jarasandha that Krishna had told him earlier — that Jarasandha's body had in truth been formed by joining two separate halves — looked toward Krishna for a sign of help.

Without saying a word, Krishna picked up a blade of straw, split it down the middle, and threw the two halves in opposite directions — a secret signal that Bhima understood at once.

In his final, decisive strike, Bhima seized Jarasandha's body by the waist and tore it apart down the middle, hurling the two halves in opposite directions. Thus Jarasandha, who had once come to life by being joined from two halves, was now permanently undone by that very same method, and this extraordinary victory carried the fame of Bhimasena's valor across the entire world.

Immediately after Jarasandha's death, Krishna, Bhima, and Arjuna went to the prison within the temple of Shiva and at once freed all eighty-eight kings who had sat there in wretched grief for so long — and seeing this, all of them were overwhelmed with joy and gratitude.

These freed kings, deeply moved, thanked Krishna, Bhima, and Arjuna as their liberators, and declared that they would forever remain bound to Yudhishthira in gratitude and loyalty — and thus the greatest obstacle on the path to the Rajasuya sacrifice was removed.

Krishna, after having the necessary funeral rites performed for Jarasandha's death, installed his son Sahadeva upon the throne of Magadha, demonstrating that this victory had been no personal act of vengeance, but simply the end of an injustice. The new king at once accepted his subordination to the Pandavas.

All of the freed kings willingly pledged to attend Yudhishthira's coming Rajasuya sacrifice and to offer suitable gifts and support of their own accord — an unprecedented political and moral victory for the Pandavas.

Krishna, Bhima, and Arjuna returned to Indraprastha with this extraordinary success, where Yudhishthira welcomed his brother and friend amid great rejoicing. Now only one task remained on the path to the Rajasuya sacrifice — a campaign of conquest to secure the submission and tribute of the rest of the world's kings.

After the slaying of Jarasandha, Yudhishthira, in order to fulfill the final, essential condition of the Rajasuya sacrifice — securing submission and tribute from the kings of the entire world — decided to send his four brothers on campaigns of conquest in the four directions, each brother departing with a vast, well-equipped army.

Arjuna was given charge of the north, Bhima of the east, Sahadeva of the south, and Nakula of the west — this division was made with great care, taking into account each brother's particular abilities and the geographical and political challenges of that direction.

Yudhishthira gave each brother clear instructions that their goal was not destruction or needless bloodshed, but the righteous securing of submission — kings who willingly accepted subordination were to be treated with friendship, and only those who resisted out of arrogance were to face battle.

Thus, campaigns of conquest began simultaneously in all four directions across the world, each brother setting out with experienced commanders, skilled ministers, and sufficient military strength. This campaign was to last for months, and the entire splendor of the Rajasuya sacrifice depended on its success.

Yudhishthira, Draupadi, and the other members of the royal family who remained in Indraprastha kept themselves busy during this long wait with the other necessary preparations for the sacrifice — building vast storehouses, inviting sages and Brahmins, and gathering the required materials.

Sahadeva, setting out with his army toward the south, first subdued the kings of the Shurasena country, and then easily won over King Virata of the Matsya kingdom, who was already friendly toward the Pandavas.

Advancing further, Sahadeva subdued, one by one, the kings of many powerful southern kingdoms — Chedi, Kuntala, South Kosala, Andhra, and the Dravida region — through either defeat or friendly treaty, treating each conquered king with generosity and respect immediately after victory.

Sahadeva's greatest challenge in this campaign came from the exceptionally powerful, maritime kingdoms of the Pandya and Chola dynasties, but through his extraordinary strategy and unwavering patience, he eventually defeated them too and secured their submission.

Reaching all the way to the southernmost tip of Kanyakumari, he also secured tribute and submission from the island kings there — an extraordinary achievement in that, without any unnecessary destruction, he brought the whole of South India under the Pandavas' authority through valor and diplomatic skill alone.

Returning from this long and successful campaign with abundant wealth, gems, elephants, and other precious gifts, Sahadeva came back victorious to Indraprastha — this victory itself standing as proof of his deep understanding of the geography and political structure of South India.

Nakula, setting out toward the west, first won victory over the regions near the desert and the western parts of Shurasena, his army maintaining its discipline and courage even while crossing exceedingly difficult, desert terrain.

He defeated and subdued the western part of the Matsya kingdom, and beyond it the powerful kings of the Sindhu-Sauvira region, who were renowned for their skill in war — this victory was especially challenging, since the warriors of these regions were exceptionally skilled horsemen.

Advancing further, Nakula subdued, one after another, the many small and large kingdoms of the Panchanada (Punjab) region, and finally secured tribute and submission even from the rulers of foreign-origin peoples such as the Shakas, Yavanas, and Pahlavas in the distant west.

The distinguishing feature of Nakula's campaign of conquest was that, through his extraordinary diplomatic cleverness, he brought many kingdoms over to the Pandavas' side without any battle at all, using only proposals of treaty and the promise of mutual commercial benefit.

Reaching the coastal regions of the west, Nakula received abundant wealth and precious goods as gifts even from the merchant-dominated kingdoms there, and returned to Indraprastha with this successful, well-organized campaign, presenting a detailed account of his victory before Yudhishthira.

Arjuna, setting out with his vast army toward the north, first defeated the mountain kings of the Kulinda country, and then won successive victories over the many small and large kingdoms situated in the foothills of the Himalayas.

Arjuna faced his most difficult battles in this campaign against the kingdom of Kashmir and the mountain tribes, who were considered exceedingly formidable due to their difficult terrain and extraordinary skill in war, but Arjuna, through the extraordinary power of his Gandiva bow, eventually defeated them as well.

Advancing further, he also defeated the powerful, war-loving kingdoms of Trigarta, Darada, and Kamboja. In these battles, on several occasions Arjuna himself faced grave danger, but his extraordinary patience, skill, and courage made him victorious every time.

Throughout this campaign of conquest, Arjuna took special care always to treat defeated kings with respect — on many occasions he returned their kingdoms to defeated kings, asking only that they accept Yudhishthira's suzerainty in the future.

Reaching the distant mountainous regions of the far north, Arjuna received abundant gold, horses, and precious gems as gifts, and returned to Indraprastha with this extraordinary, glorious campaign of conquest — a victory that proved to be one of the most important foundations for the success of the Rajasuya sacrifice.

Bhimasena, setting out toward the east, first defeated the regions neighboring the Panchala country, and then, further on, the kings of the Gandaka and Kosala regions, through his extraordinary strength — the mere roar of his mace was enough for many small kingdoms to accept submission without any battle at all.

Advancing further, Bhima successively defeated Mithila, the remaining regions under Magadha's influence, and the powerful kings of the Anga and Vanga countries — in these battles, his extraordinary physical strength and unmatched skill with the mace were fully displayed.

Bhima's most difficult battle in this campaign was against certain powerful chieftains of the Anga country, friends of Karna, who resisted for a long time out of loyalty to him — but eventually they too had to bow before Bhima's unmatched strength.

Advancing further, Bhima also secured tribute and submission from Pundra, Tamralipti, and many island kingdoms of the far eastern coast — these victories brought the vast territory of eastern India under the Pandavas' sphere of influence.

Bhimasena returned to Indraprastha from this long, exceedingly successful campaign of conquest bringing abundant wealth, royal elephants, and precious goods. Thus, with the conquest of all four directions complete, Yudhishthira's supremacy was established beyond dispute across the entire world, and no obstacle remained to holding the Rajasuya sacrifice.

With the conquest of the four directions complete and immense wealth gathered, Yudhishthira, on the advice of his priest Dhaumya and the family preceptor, fixed an auspicious hour for the Rajasuya sacrifice, and invitations were sent out to the kings, sages, and all members of his family across the entire world.

From Hastinapur, Dhritarashtra, Bhishma, Dronacharya, Vidura, Duryodhana, and all the Kaurava princes came to Indraprastha to attend this grand sacrifice. Outwardly it appeared a family celebration, but seeing this extraordinary splendor, the fire of jealousy began to smolder in Duryodhana's heart.

To properly organize the sacrifice, Yudhishthira assigned various responsibilities to his brothers and the invited princes — Dushasana was given charge of catering, Ashwatthama the honoring of Brahmins, Sanjaya the management of the treasury, while Bhishma and Dronacharya themselves were given overall supervision of the sacrifice.

Krishna, whom Yudhishthira himself considered the very first and highest guest of this grand event, arrived at the sacrifice from Dwaraka, and his mere presence filled the entire atmosphere with an extraordinary divinity. As the sacrificial fire was lit in the sacrificial hall, the resonance of Vedic hymns spread throughout Indraprastha.

Over the many days of this vast sacrifice, the sequence of formal consecration, charity, and Vedic rites proceeded in an extremely well-organized manner, with every king and sage present praising Yudhishthira's extraordinary achievement lavishly and offering their blessings.

In the final, most important stage of the sacrifice, a decision had to be made as to which one, among all the kings, sages, and guests present, should be offered the very first, highest honor (agrapuja) — a highly esteemed tradition of that age that recognized the supreme excellence of the recipient.

Yudhishthira entrusted this responsibility to his grandsire Bhishma, believing that his age, experience, and impartiality would make him best suited to this decision. After deep reflection, Bhishma declared that the one most worthy of this supreme honor was Krishna himself.

He explained the reasoning behind his decision, saying that Krishna was not only supremely wise, valorous, and renowned, but was himself the very cause of creation, preservation, and destruction — the Supreme Being in person — by whose grace the smooth functioning of this sacrifice, and indeed of the entire world, was made possible.

The whole assembly joyfully supported Bhishma's decision, and Sahadeva duly washed Krishna's feet and offered him water and the foremost worship — seeing this, most of the kings present were filled with great joy and reverence.

But at this very moment, Shishupala, King of Chedi, who already harbored deep, personal enmity toward Krishna, blazed with anger at this decision, and standing before the entire assembly, began openly declaring this choice improper and insulting — this very incident laid the groundwork for the shocking episode described in the next chapter.

Shishupala stood up and began a harsh public denunciation of Krishna before the entire assembly, calling him a mere cowherd, fallen from his caste, and utterly unworthy of this supreme honor. He also cast bitter aspersions on Bhishma's decision, saying that even an old man's judgment can sometimes become clouded.

The whole assembly sat stunned to hear this shameful, insulting tirade. Many kings rose in anger, ready to oppose Shishupala, but Krishna himself, with perfect calm and patience, stopped them all, showing that he himself was not in the least disturbed by this insult.

Bhishma revealed to the assembly the hidden reason behind this restraint — that he had once promised Krishna's aunt (Shishupala's mother) that he would forgive her son a hundred offenses, and Shishupala had by now committed most of those countless offenses, and so the assembly was advised to wait patiently.

Shishupala grew ever more vicious in his insulting words, even making thoroughly improper remarks about Draupadi and Yudhishthira, and an unbearable tension gripped the entire assembly as they watched.

The very moment Shishupala completed his hundred-and-first insulting offense, Krishna, fulfilling his promise, without anger or agitation, invoked his divine Sudarshana Chakra, which in an instant severed Shishupala's head. As his body fell to the ground, the whole assembly stood frozen in fear and astonishment — yet everyone also recognized that this had been justice, not injustice.

After this shocking event of Shishupala's death, the assembly grew calm, and the Rajasuya sacrifice was completed successfully with its remaining rites. Yudhishthira was formally proclaimed a universal emperor, and received the sacred blessing of the sacrifice's completion through the avabhritha ritual bath.

After the sacrifice ended, the invited kings and guests gradually began to depart for their own kingdoms, but Duryodhana and his uncle Shakuni decided to stay a few more days in Indraprastha — this gave them the opportunity to tour, in detail, the wondrous Maya Sabha whose fame had spread across the whole world.

Duryodhana, who was already inwardly burning at this extraordinary splendor, prosperity, and glory of the Pandavas, found his jealousy growing even more intense as he wandered among the illusion-laden crystal floors and pools of water in the Maya Sabha — every chamber, every ornament, reminded him of Hastinapur's poverty by comparison.

During this very tour, they came to a place where the crystal floor was so transparent and gleaming like water that Duryodhana, mistaking it for real water, lifted up his garments, thinking he was about to step into a pool.

Then, in the very opposite of this, a short distance away, an actual pool of water appeared exactly like a crystal floor, and Duryodhana, mistaking it for solid ground, walked forward — and in this confusion, fell straight into the pool of water, thoroughly drenched along with his clothes. Seeing this, Draupadi and the others present in the hall could not hold back their laughter.

As Duryodhana rose from the water, drenched along with his clothes, he felt deeply humiliated and ashamed. At that very moment, Bhimasena and the other attendants present also could not control their laughter, and this laughter pierced Duryodhana's heart like an unbearable, stinging thorn.

Most painful of all in this whole episode was Draupadi's mocking voice, who, joined by some other maidservants, laughed openly at Duryodhana's mistake and remarked sharply that "the son of a blind man is blind too" — a comment that was a cruel jibe directed straight at Dhritarashtra's blindness.

Deeply wounded within by this insult, Duryodhana fell silent and departed at once. Outwardly he said nothing, but in his heart this humiliation, combining with his already-established jealousy of the Pandavas, turned into an unbearable, poisonous fire that would now settle for nothing less than destruction.

On the way back, Shakuni, sensing his nephew's pain, asked him the reason for it. Duryodhana, with great anguish and distress, told him the whole account of this humiliation and of his deep jealousy over the Pandavas' extraordinary prosperity, admitting that he could no longer even sleep peacefully at night.

From this very moment, a firm, unshakable resolve was born in Duryodhana's mind — to destroy the Pandavas at any cost, or to seize their entire wealth for himself. This was the very decisive moment that would go on to lay the groundwork for the ruinous game of dice that would drive the entire Bharata dynasty toward great destruction.

On returning to Hastinapur, Duryodhana sank into such deep despair and jealousy that he gave up food and sleep altogether. Dhritarashtra, worried by his son's unusual state, began asking him the reason, though he himself well knew that this was the result of jealousy born of the Pandavas' prosperity.

Duryodhana openly admitted to his father that he could not bear Yudhishthira's extraordinary splendor, the divine beauty of the Maya Sabha, and the supreme honor Yudhishthira had received at the Rajasuya sacrifice. He even went so far as to say that the only way to be freed from this unbearable jealousy was either the complete destruction of the Pandavas, or the sacrifice of his own life.

Shakuni, who himself harbored deep vengeance against the Pandavas and the Kuru dynasty for the defeat and humiliation of the king of Gandhara, seized this opportunity and presented Duryodhana with a cunning but effective plan — defeating the Pandavas in open war was impossible, since invincible warriors like Bhima and Arjuna stood on their side, but defeating Yudhishthira at the game of dice would be exceedingly easy.

Shakuni revealed that he himself was exceptionally skilled at dice, and that he possessed special dice that would yield whatever result he wished. He also pointed out that Yudhishthira, though supremely righteous, nevertheless had a natural, weak fondness for gambling — a weakness that could be skillfully exploited.

Dhritarashtra, though at first hesitant about this wicked scheme, being blinded by his love for his son, eventually ignored Vidura's grave objections and gave his consent to this conspiracy, ordering that Yudhishthira be invited to Hastinapur for a game of dice.

Vidura was given the deeply unpleasant duty of going himself to Indraprastha to invite Yudhishthira, on Dhritarashtra's behalf, to Hastinapur for the game of dice. Vidura, though fully aware of this entire conspiracy, was unable to defy the king's command.

Arriving at Indraprastha, Vidura delivered this invitation to Yudhishthira with a heavy heart, and also clearly expressed his own deep worry and suspicion, warning him that this game of dice was surely being arranged for some inauspicious, ruinous purpose.

Yudhishthira, though he well understood the seriousness of Vidura's warning, nevertheless replied that refusing the invitation of a respected, elder family preceptor would be contrary to dharma, and also that he himself regarded the game of dice as an acceptable, traditional pastime for a Kshatriya — even though he himself was quite unskilled at it.

Yudhishthira also acknowledged that man is helpless before the will of fate, and that if this game of dice was itself some part of destiny, then avoiding it was impossible. With this fatalistic yet dharma-sanctioned reasoning, he decided to go to Hastinapur.

Along with Draupadi and all his brothers and family, Yudhishthira set out for Hastinapur. A vague, deep sense of foreboding lay in the hearts of both the people of Indraprastha and Draupadi herself, though no one could have imagined the true horror of the calamity that was about to unfold.

In that same grand hall of Hastinapur, where the Pandavas had once been welcomed with honor, that ruinous game of dice now began. Bhishma, Dronacharya, Kripacharya, and Vidura, along with all the elder and respected members of the assembly, were present in this hall, but not one of them found the courage to stop this unjust game.

Shakuni proposed that, since Duryodhana himself had no particular interest in playing dice, he would play against Yudhishthira himself — the wagers would come from Duryodhana's side, but the dice would remain in Shakuni's own hands. This was the most cunning move of this entire conspiracy.

Yudhishthira began the first wager with his precious jewelry, and the deceitful dice, moving at Shakuni's will, immediately gave a result in Duryodhana's favor. Yudhishthira, unmoved by this loss, went on announcing the next, even larger wager.

One after another, Yudhishthira went on losing his treasury of gold, his chariots, his male and female servants, his cowsheds, and his vast wealth and splendor. Vidura and many other members of the assembly repeatedly urged him to stop this ruinous game at once, but Yudhishthira could not restrain himself in that strange, intoxicating grip of the dice.

When all his movable and immovable wealth was exhausted, Yudhishthira wagered his male and female servants, and lost them too. After this, without a moment's pause, he began wagering his brothers one by one — Nakula, Sahadeva, Arjuna, and finally Bhimasena himself — and the entire assembly was struck with shock and fear at this sight.

Having lost all four of his brothers as well, Yudhishthira, now finding nothing left to wager, finally staked himself. Shakuni's deceitful dice gave the same result once again, and Yudhishthira himself became Duryodhana's slave.

All the eminent men present in the assembly — Bhishma, Drona, Vidura, Kripacharya — sat in deep anguish and shame, in silence. None of them could find the courage to stop this unjust game — a bitter truth of that age, that the dignity and traditions of a royal court could sometimes remain mute even in the face of plain injustice.

Not satisfied even at this point, Shakuni, with an exceedingly cunning smile, began goading Yudhishthira, saying that one final, priceless thing still remained that he could wager — Queen Draupadi herself.

Yudhishthira, sunk so deep in that strange, judgment-robbing intoxication of the dice, without pausing to consider the terrible consequences of this decision, wagered Draupadi as well. The moment this was heard, an unbearable wave of shock and deep distress swept through the entire assembly.

Shakuni cast the dice, and once again came that same decisive, deceitful result — Yudhishthira had lost himself, his four brothers, and now Draupadi too. Duryodhana's joy had now reached its peak, and he at once ordered Vidura to have Draupadi summoned to the assembly immediately.

Vidura clearly refused to carry out this unjust order, gravely warning Duryodhana that summoning Draupadi to the assembly in this manner would be a grave sin and would invite ruinous consequences — but the enraged Duryodhana paid no heed at all to Vidura's warning.

Duryodhana ordered his brother Dushasana to go himself and drag Draupadi to the assembly by force, even if it meant seizing her by the hair. Dushasana, carrying out this cruel order at once, went to the inner chambers and, seizing Draupadi — who was in her monthly courses and wearing but a single garment — by the hair, dragged her forcibly before the full assembly.

Draupadi, even amid this unbearable humiliation, with astonishing dignity and courage, put this grave, sharp question to all the elder, learned members of the assembly present — that since Yudhishthira had already lost his own freedom by wagering himself first, did he still retain any lawful right to wager her afterward?

Hearing this profound, dharma-based question, Bhishma and the entire assembly fell into deep uncertainty. Bhishma himself admitted that this question was exceedingly complex, and that the path of dharma sometimes becomes so subtle that it cannot be explained with full certainty — yet amid this very uncertainty, he took no concrete step to save Draupadi from this humiliation.

Finally, at Duryodhana's signal, Dushasana began the utterly shameless attempt to strip Draupadi of her clothing. Draupadi, helpless, kept looking with pleading eyes toward her five husbands, and toward Bhishma and Drona, for help — but when she found no hope of rescue from anywhere, she called upon Lord Krishna himself with the complete devotion and surrender of her heart.

The moment he heard Draupadi's heart-rending, sincere cry, though Krishna was not physically present in that assembly, he at once felt his devotee's unbearable anguish through his divine power, and invisibly began extending her garment endlessly.

Dushasana grew exhausted, panting as he pulled at Draupadi's clothing, but however much cloth he pulled, Draupadi's body remained completely covered by an endless stream of new garment. This vast mountain of cloth eventually piled up in the middle of the assembly, and Dushasana, exhausted and frightened by this miracle, was finally forced to give up the attempt.

The entire assembly sat stunned in astonishment and reverence at this extraordinary, miraculous sight. Bhimasena, who had been trembling with rage throughout this whole episode, sharply rebuked his brother Yudhishthira's patience, and took the terrible vow that one day he would tear open Dushasana's chest and drink his blood, and would shatter Duryodhana's thigh with his own mace.

At this very moment, Vidura and some other elder members of the assembly sent word to the inner chambers, urging Gandhari to intervene at once and reason with Duryodhana. Gandhari, recognizing this entire injustice through her divine insight, rushed toward the assembly, deeply angered and distressed.

During this same time, many inauspicious omens also began to appear — the wailing of jackals, the fearsome howling of foxes — seeing which even Dhritarashtra himself grew afraid, sensing that his son's unrighteous act was now inviting some great destruction upon the entire Kuru dynasty.

Frightened by these inauspicious omens and by Gandhari's deep distress, Dhritarashtra finally intervened himself. He addressed Draupadi with words of great affection, apologized for this unjust episode, and asked her to request any boon she wished, in order to be appeased.

Draupadi, displaying her extraordinary wisdom and restraint, instead of asking anything for herself first, asked only for the boon that Yudhishthira be freed from slavery, so that her eldest husband might never be called anyone's slave.

Dhritarashtra at once granted this boon, and asked her to request one more. This time Draupadi asked for the complete freedom of the remaining four Pandavas, along with their chariots and weapons — and this boon too was granted at once.

When Dhritarashtra again urged her to ask for a third boon, Draupadi, with dignified restraint, declined, saying that greed destroys dharma, and that she had already secured, through these two most important boons, the complete freedom and honor of her husbands — to ask for more would be improper.

Thus Dhritarashtra also returned to the Pandavas their entire lost kingdom, wealth, and honor, and allowed them to return peacefully to Indraprastha. Though it seemed that this dire crisis had ended auspiciously, this defeat had kindled in Duryodhana's heart an even deeper fire of vengeance.

As soon as the Pandavas set out for Indraprastha, Duryodhana, deeply angered and dissatisfied with his father's decision, appeared before Dhritarashtra once again. In an urgent voice, he argued that freeing the Pandavas in this manner had been an extremely shortsighted decision, since they would now surely be consumed with a desire for revenge.

Shakuni, seizing this very opportunity, put forward one final, even more cunning proposal — that Yudhishthira be invited once more to a game of dice, this time on the condition that whichever side lost would have to spend twelve years in exile in the forest, and a thirteenth year in hiding, and that if they were recognized during this year of hiding, they would have to endure another twelve years of exile.

This proposal was devised in the wicked hope that during such a long period of exile and hiding, the Pandavas would themselves fall victim to some misfortune, or that their power and influence would grow so weak that they would never again be capable of laying claim to their kingdom.

Dhritarashtra, though at first fully aware of the ruinous consequences of this second invitation, once again yielded, bound by his affection for his son and Shakuni's cunning arguments, and ordered the herald sent once more to Indraprastha to invite Yudhishthira to this second game of dice.

This time too, Yudhishthira, holding to that same dharma-sanctioned but fatal belief that a Kshatriya should not refuse an invitation to a game of dice, and that the writing of fate cannot be avoided, returned to Hastinapur for this second, final game — even knowing that its consequences might prove far more terrible than before.

In the second game of dice, Shakuni's same deceitful dice once again proved decisive, and Yudhishthira, along with his four brothers, was defeated again according to this pre-arranged condition. Thus it became mandatory for the Pandavas to spend twelve years in harsh forest exile, and a thirteenth year in hiding.

The Pandavas, accepting this defeat with complete dignity and patience, set aside their royal garments for the bark-cloth robes of ascetics, and, along with Draupadi, began preparing to leave behind their entire magnificent kingdom of Indraprastha and set out for the forest.

On this very occasion, Bhimasena, Arjuna, and Draupadi gave voice, before the whole assembly, to the deep anger and desire for vengeance boiling in their hearts, in the form of grave, terrible vows — Bhima repeated his vow to slay Dushasana and break Duryodhana's thigh, and Arjuna repeated his vow to bring about the end of Karna.

Vidura, Bhishma, and Dronacharya, along with all the elder members of the assembly, watched this entire episode helplessly, in deep anguish. They knew well that this game of dice, and the exile it had brought about, would eventually lead the entire Bharata dynasty toward that terrible, ruinous war which nothing could now avert.

The Pandavas, along with Draupadi, set out for the forest amid the sorrowful, tearful farewell of the people of Hastinapur. Thus the Sabha Parva reaches its conclusion with this deep, heart-rending lesson — that adharma, however skillfully woven through deceit, can in the end only delay the path of dharma, never end it — and in the Vana Parva that follows, many instructive, profound tales of the Pandavas' years of forest exile will be told.