Some Queries?

Safiul is very well read and being from Goethals, he accept nothings at face value, nor do I. He has raised some very pertinent queries which must have troubled all who have read the Mahabharat and the Bhagvat Gita.
I would like our readers to throw some light on the queries.
I shall also contribute my views.
Radheshyam

KRISHNA LOVE

Amar mon cholo jai bhromonay
Krishno onuraag’er baganay.
Let us go a-roving my heart;
In the orchard of Krishna-love.

Several months ago, I finally read the Bhagbat Gita. I adore the Mahabharat and have read it several times, in English and Bangla translations, its grip on me increasing with each reading. So, naturally, I wanted to read the Gita – a part of that epic tale.

My dada [grand uncle, i.e. my father’s maama or uncle], was a musulli [pious person], and, of course, my murubbi [an elder relative, thus more experienced and knowledgeable and ergo owed deference. By the way, his son, Iftekar, graduated from Goethals and was several years my senior – Mr. Lobo and N.K. may remember him because he was a good cricketer and played for the school team.] Anyway, in my [then] youthful folly, I was disparaging the Gita in his presence.

Clearly displeased, he asked, in one of the many dialects of Bangla, “Gita fori dekhso?” [Have you actually read the Gita?] No, I hadn’t. He said, “Fori dekhio. Onek kichhuu shikhaar achhay.” [Read it and see. There is a lot to learn from it.] Thus it became incumbent upon me to read the Gita. Almost forty odd years later, long after he has passed away, I have finally followed his advice and discovered that truly, there is a lot to learn from the Gita.

The Gita is part of my cultural DNA. Those traits that Krishna advises Arjun to accept as ideal, that state of equilibrium summarized in the expression, “Shukhay dukhay obichol” [by happiness and adversity (remain) equally unaffected] form also a part of my ideology. Not that I have attained that desirable state, only that I believe it is a goal worthy of striving towards.

But, anyway, can you resolve some issues/questions? I wish to offend no one by raising them – but am acutely aware that I might displease, especially those who approach the Gita [and Mahabharat] through a curtain of faith that often asks of others an a priori condition of unquestioning acceptance. I have questions about all religions (including my own).
Incidentally, for doubt-raising questions about Christianity read “Misquoting Jesus” by Bart D. Ehrman. To learn how to cast aspersions upon Islam, you needn’t read any book, just listen to talk radio. Talking of Islam, I’m reading “Bishaad Shindhu” (Sea of Sorrows) written in 1885 by an author born exactly 100 years before me. It is about the massacre of Imam Hossein and his party at Karbala. That historical event of some 1400 years past is commemorated annually as Moharraam. The book is written in formal Bangla. But I’m finding it hard going – it does not have the verve of an “Arabya Oopon-naash” (literally, Arabian Tales – “The Arabian Nights” in the English version, I have even seen it, in English, as “Arabian Knights”) or the writings of, say, Sharat Chandra, written in the same style of Bangla. That the pages are mixed up in the copy I’m reading doesn’t help either. So – on to my issues:

It strikes me that Arjun’s questions to Krishna, in the Gita, are pertinent, imbued with humaneness. To him, standing firm on a claim to real estate is worthless if its result can only be the death, by his own hand mostly, of those he loves. He seems to champion ohingsha or ahimsa [non-ferocity, peacefulness, love], whereas Krishna urges killing.

When Krishna’s answers don’t satisfy or convince Arjun, Krishna takes to bedazzling him. Krishna shows him his true form. Arjun’s brain is overcome at the realization of the limitless might of Krishna. He acquiesces. This is not so much winning an argument through rationality and force of logic as via “shock and awe.”

Oh I “get it” that the Gita is championing duty [to fight for what is right] above everything. What I cannot bring myself to wholeheartedly accept is that to engage in a conflict so fraught with extreme consequences for mere inheritance is necessarily the right fight. I mean, there are other issues to take a firm stance upon. For example, when someone is putting his wife, that too, not his alone, but four other persons’, up as the bet in a gamble. Why was no protest voiced then, or the act questioned by any righteous character in the story, or even in the tenor of the tale?

Also, such a position of egging on war is contradictory to what Krishna lovers preach as their main tenet. To my limited knowledge, boishnabs [followers of the Bhakti cult, a cult of Krishna worship – Sri Sri Chaitanya Deb, Lalon Fakir too, I daresay] preached only love, love, and more love for humanity, albeit Lalon had crazy notions of confining that love to a Platonic level.

And what about the Mahabharat, a tale I find more gripping than the Ramayan? In that enthralling epic most of my questions center on Karna. Arjun was brave. Why not? He was taught by the greatest masters. He owned the Gandiv bow, a gift from heaven whose possessor, by godly boon, could not be defeated in battle. Where is the glory in being brave when the consequence of battle is certain victory? This is akin to, in modern times, the bravery of soldiers inside tanks shooting down children armed with stones from a mile away. Bravery is refusing to fight on grounds of principle even when victory is certain -- the position taken by Arjun, discouraged by Krishna.

Karna has been unfairly treated from birth. His mother foolishly invoked the Sun god and, when Karna was born upon the god’s having his way with her, she abandoned him. He had to train his own self in the arts of war, no fancy gurus for him. As the oldest of the Pandav brothers, he should be the heir to Pandu’s possessions – but far from giving him, or even informing him, of his rights, he was insulted as not being high born enough to compete for the hand of Draupadi against Arjun. The wrongs against him were compounded when all the boons he had acquired from the gods were taken away through, basically, trickery – he was divested of one of these protections by his own mother who had visited upon him supreme denial at birth to begin with. Why? What fault was it of his that injustice upon injustice should be heaped upon him? Despite these setbacks, he remained brave, dutiful, respectful, loyal, not to mention generous [data Karna – Karna, the giver]. Now that’s a character to admire.

Yet, in the Mahabharat, Karna is a villain. Yes, he was vengeful; wouldn’t you be in his shoes? The Pandavs, who had it good by comparison, were they any less vengeful? No; but it is Karna who is evil. Evil because he was on the side that won Draupadi in a game of chance and then attempted to insult her modesty. Draupadi wants revenge and goads her five husbands [the Pandavs] on, berates them for their cowardice, their failure to act like Kshatryas. Now there’s vengefulness for you. [By the way, one of Chitra Bannerjee Divakaruni’s books, “The Palace of Illusions” is pretty interesting. In it the Mahabharat is narrated by Draupadi, from her point of view.] Draupadi blames Karna and company entirely. Yet, as an Indian author pointed out, she has nothing to say to the husband who put her up as the stake in said game of chance and then, to add insult to injury, lost her. And who did this terrible deed? – none other than Juthishtir, the son of Dharma [god of ethical principles] himself!

Some of these issues that were raised in my [then] young and foolish mind long ago still remain in this [now] old and foolish mind. For those whose ire I might invoke: You can hush me with your righteous irritation or you can enlighten me. Be aware that my understanding of the text may be mixed up. Since I’ve read various texts and commentaries over the years, I may be confusing one with another. I may be imputing to the Gita [and also the Mahabharat] what it doesn’t actually state. If so, set me straight.

Other than that, in the “real world” classes have begun for the Fall semester. When some heartrendingly attractive form is spotted, this graying head does not turn. No wish to indulge in Krishna-love as practiced upon the gopis [cowherd girls] by him even enters the realm of wishful thinking. Why not? Because this saying – about Krishna, I’ll wager – should never be forgotten:

Debota’r bela’ay leela khela
Paap joto amar bela.
[What is for them sublime amorous play.
For me is a cardinal sin, the gods say.]