Indian mythosophy: The fall of Jaydratha

The story of Jaydratha, especially that of his demise, is easily one of the most throught-provoking pieces in mythistory (well — yes, I coined that word; too bad English doesn’t have it yet). The story questions our views on morality and honour; but in addition, it also hints at scientific observations in that period of ancient India which we refer to as ‘epic period’.

In popular depictions of the Mahabharata (one of the two great Indian epics), Jaydratha is often portrayed as a sidekick to the villain, Duryodhana. However, as is characteristic of the epic, every character has its own arc, and often an ‘origin story’. Jaydratha’s story is built up in snapshots from his life:

1. Jaydratha was the king of Sindhu (maybe present day Indus valley; however, words change meaning over time, and nobody can be quite sure). He was brother-in-law to Duryodhana, and married to Dusshala, Duryodhana’s sister.
2. His father granted him a a really strange superpower, namely, to kill his (Jaydratha’s) assassin after he (Jaydratha) dies. Specifically, whoever drops Jaydratha’s severed head on the ground, will die instantly by bursting his (the one who drops the head) own head (a stroke? you never know).
3. Jaydratha made an attempt to abduct Draupadi, the wife of the ‘Pandavas’. (For reference, the five Pandava brothers are the good guys in the Mahabharata, although the epic style of writing — much like postmodern literature — has often created anti-heroes and morally ambivalent protagonists out of these good guys.) His attempt was thwarted by two of the Pandavas, Arjuna & Bheem, who beat him up and shaved his head (which was a most insufferable form of humiliation, especially for a king). But the kind elder of the Pandavas, Yudhishthira, and Draupadi herself, let Jaydratha off after a warning.
4. Jaydratha was hell bent on revenge and set forth on a life of Tapasya (prayer, fast, abstinenece, meditation) until he pleased the God Shiva (the destroyer in Hindu mythology), so much so that Shiva appeared before him to grant him a boon. After some bargaining between the two¹, it was finally settled that Jaydratha would be invincible for one full day, during which he could kill a Pandava of his choice.
5. Jaydratha kept waiting for his day until war finally broke out between Pandavas and Kauravas (led by Duryodhana); he finally got to use his boon on the 13th day of war, as his temporary invincibility managed to hold off the Pandavas — for long enough so that Arjuna’s son, Abhimanyu, got killed in a huddle.

The eclipse on the 14th day

At this point, the story takes a radical turn. Arjuna, devastated by the loss of his son, vows to kill Jaydratha by end of the day (‘before sunset’) or end his own life by self-immolation.

Now, there’s more to this development than just a duel between two warriors. Arjuna was the spearhead of the Pandavas, and getting him to commit suicide would be the easiest way to get rid of him. Thus the Kauravas put all their efforts in saving Jaydratha, and placed layers after layers of defense around him. Even with all his prowess, Arjuna struggled to penetrate them all, and by the time the sun was sloping to the west, he was nowhere near Jaydratha. It was The quick and the dead all over again, only a few millennia before. Arjuna, thoroughly fed up with everything, even began to set a funeral pyre for himself.

Then the eclipse happened!

Why the eclipse happened just then is anybody’s guess. Total solar eclipses are rare events, and chances of that happening on any given day is pretty low. But whoever wrote (or added) this part of the Mahabharata, was an astronomer for sure.

Jaydratha must not have witnessed an eclipse before, and was not even bothered by the sudden ‘sunset’ instead of the more usual, gradual descent into evening and then night. The illusion of sunset fooled him, and he came prancing out of his defenses. However, the moment he stepped out, the eclipse got over, and the sun shone with its last, pastel-red, rays of the day.

At which point Jaydratha was promptly decapitated by Arjuna.²

Divine intervention and morality

The usual explanation of the eclipse (possibly added-on by later day authors) is that Krishna covered the sun with his Sudarshana-chakra. (Again, for reference, Krishna is said to be an incarnation of the God Vishnu; in his human form, he was guiding Arjuna throughout the war, as a battlefield-buddy. The Sudrashna-chakra was his weapon (shastra) of choice, which he seldom used). This act by Krishna raises several pertinent issues:

1. Behind the thin veil of supernatural, myths often reveal a rational factoid; it might just be that Krishna was (or was advised by) an astronomer who knew of the upcoming eclipse, and planned the face-off likewise.
2. Irrespective of whether the eclipse was natural or ‘artificial’ (i.e. brought on by Krishna), does making use of it suit Arjuna, a man of honour? This act of Arjuna, if not outright immoral, is certianly questionable; he definitely loses the moral high ground.
3. But isn’t moral war an oxymoron? Krishna seems to be the kind of person who believes if you’re going into war, make sure you win it. In fact, many of his moves are reminiscent of the master tactician, Sun Tzu (‘Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him’)³. And as evident from this particular act, Krishna didn’t quiver to use knowledge of science in the battlefield. In that respect, he’s the precursor of Archimedes and Oppenheimer.

The strained relation between science and war has been succinctly captured by Sharadindu Bandopadhyay in one of his short stories.⁴ A fight which starts as a fisticuff between two, escalates to (successively) knives, arrows, spears, bullets and shells. A cheering crowd applauds the fight and urges the show to go on. Ultimately, when the two are about to drop nuclear weapons oneach other, the crowd — sensing that they are no more an audience (sadly, nuclear weapons don’t have an ‘audience’: all must perish) — suddenly turn pacifist and ask them to de-escalate.

Substitute the two with any two belligerent nations, and the ‘crowd’ with ‘international community’, and you get the picture.

Postscript: What happened to Jaydratha’s head?

This is weird. Remember, whoever dropped Jaydratha’s head would have to die! Arjuna can not be made to suffer that fate (all this effort was to prevent him from committing suicide anyway). So Krishna used his powers (again) to flung the severed head over the distance, where it finally landed on the lap of his father (epics are not for the faint-hearted). His ageing father, startled by the object falling from the sky, dropped it on the ground — and thus had to die that very moment.

Cruel? Yes. Added on to the original Mahabharata? Most probably. Imaginative? Sure, especially considering that it was Jaydratha’s father who bestowed this boon to Jaydratha in the first place. In a most ironic turn of events, it had come back to bite him.

I guess, at some point, one has to draw a line between philosophy and plain old bizarre.

…

1. This style of writing, i.e. imposing human affairs onto the divine, is characteristic of the middle ages in India, and is most probably added on to the original Mahabharata
2. Mahabharata (abridged). https://www.wisdomlib.org/hinduism/book/mahabharata/d/doc118450.html
3. Sun Tzu. The art of war. Translated by Lionel Giles. https://fas.org/man/artofwar.htm
4. আণবিক বোমা। https://www.ebanglalibrary.com/19717/%e0%a6%86%e0%a6%a3%e0%a6%ac%e0%a6%bf%e0%a6%95-%e0%a6%ac%e0%a7%8b%e0%a6%ae%e0%a6%be/