Mahabharat, one of the two timeless epics (the other being Ramayana) has defined India for centuries — its hold on the country’s shared memories, imagination, and identity are without parallel. Like an old banyan tree, its roots grip the collective Indian soul. Countless stories in it give them daily life lessons.
In one sentence, The Mahabharata (MBH) narrates the tale of a long-standing dispute between cousins vying for property and social standing. It is believed that this event took place circa 1000 BCE. The stories span more than a dozen generations, spread over four centuries, and historians believe the epic was compiled by the 3rd century CE (give or take a few hundred years).
The core of the story was named Jaya, and after numerous adaptations and additions, it expanded into the epic called Mahabharata (MBH). The original Sanskrit version was later adapted into the regional languages of Tamil, Bangla, Malayalam, and Kannada, with variations. It made its way to Southeast Asia in the 10th-11th century, where it continues to exist to date. Akbar got it translated into Persian in the 16th century and called it Razamnama–the Book of War. In 1785, Governor General Hastings had the Geeta translated into English.
In the past, people recited the tale more than they read it because of widespread illiteracy. That oral tradition lives even today among tribes like the Garasiya Bheels, but with notable differences — for example, the vastra haran, the disrobing of Draupadi, is absent in their version. There is no Bhagavad Gita in the tribal epic, though Krishna, as a character and an important one, is present. Some of the most beloved parts of the Mahabharata today–such as that the elephant-headed Hindu god Ganesha wrote the epic with his broken tusk as he heard Vyasa’s narration–were added centuries after the story was first compiled.
Ancient India witnessed the simultaneous emergence of Jainism and Buddhism, both of which posed a challenge to the existing authority of the Brahmins during the development of this epic. Both religions refer to clans and individuals from these stories. During this period, India witnessed the rise of the Mauryan and Gupta empires, while the Greek and Persian empires thrived next door. Did the Greek, Persian, and Indian civilizations engage in any cultural exchanges of ideas and stories? I found little on the subject.
The poem consists of nearly 100,000 couplets, longer than the combined length of the Iliad and the Odyssey. It comprises 18 sections and a supplement. Today, the most exhaustive text of the Mahabharata is the ‘critical’ edition, published by the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute of Poona. Countless regional and Sanskrit editions of manuscripts were carefully gathered, examined, and merged over five decades, culminating in its publication in 1966.
Mahabharata is not as popular as Ramayan in the average Indian household. One likely explanation is that the Ramayana story is simpler, without complicated ethical puzzles. While MBH is a record of human beings with human weaknesses and sufferings, the entire Ramayana is in praise of an ideal man. Perhaps the use of Awadhi/Hindi in the retelling through Ramcharitmanas made it easier for people in North India to connect with Ramayana. Some people even believe that having complete copies of the Mahabharata text in your house can bring misfortune.
Countless Indians, irrespective of age or location, believe that they possess an understanding of the Mahabharata, despite seldom reading the entire text. Short books, Wikipedia, stories from grandma, and TV shows are how we usually know the stories and my journey wasn’t all that different.
As a child, I viewed the epic and its characters as a battle between good and evil. I believed that the Great War was caused by Draupadi, the epic’s heroine and that Shakuni was the central villain. Karna, a tragic hero, stood against the caste system, whereas the Pandavas were virtuous and Duryodhana was detestable. It is only so many decades later that I began to appreciate the intricacies of these characters, their ethical dilemmas, and the recurring philosophical inquiry about the essence of human existence — the concept of Dharma.
The epic’s expanse and intricacy, undoubtedly impressive, often leave me conflicted because of the clash between its underlying message and modern-day sensibilities. The stories of the Mahabharata (MBH) find their roots in a pastoral society of small kingdoms that thrived thousands of years ago, that no longer exist. Long gone is the context in which these values were developed and practiced, rendering their supposed universality somewhat moot. As society has evolved and advanced, new ethical frameworks and perspectives have emerged, rendering some of the epic’s teachings outdated and incompatible with contemporary sensibilities.
Thus, even though I have great respect for the grandeur and intricacy of the Mahabharata, it is important to critically examine its supposed timeless wisdom. MBH has already lent to a variety of interpretations; here are my modest musings on some events and characters.
If you are familiar with the basic storyline of MBH, read on…
WOMEN OF MBH
MBH society was a polygamous patriarchy. A woman’s status was all about her father, husband, or son. They were tools of male ambition. Regardless of their marital status, women were expected to fulfill the role of bearing healthy offspring for men. Niyoga allowed women to have children with men outside of marriage, with social approval.
Since MBH covers many generations, there occurs a shift in women’s position through the epic. Earlier generations had Urvashi, Ganga and Satyavati, who could make demands of the men who wanted to marry them. But later, princess Amba and her two sisters are treated like mere chattel. The five major women from Mahabharata, Satyavati, Amba, Kunti, Gandhari and Draupadi showed some agency, but overall, they remained helpless and subjugated. Much has been written about the unfair treatment of women during the time; here are two instances that stand out when the lament is haunting:
When Krishna came to Hastinapura in a last bid to avoid the war, he had a conversation with Kunti. Kunti talks in the third person–“She was the daughter of a king, she became the eldest wife of another king. When her son became the king of Indraprastha, she became the queen-mother. She was deprived of her right to the queenship by a rash act of her husband. She was deprived of her right to the queen’s mother’s position by a rash act of her son. And now this eldest son, followed by his obedient brothers, was about to propose a disastrous truce which would bring nothing but contempt from the contemporary Kshatriyas.” Despite her sadness, she maintains a strong will.
Another example is when Duryodhana humiliated Draupadi in court after Yudhishdhir lost the dice game. She poses the question, “Did Dharma-raja become a slave before he bet me, and if so, does he have the authority to gamble me?” putting the entire assembly to shameful silence. Again a sharp-willed woman, reduced to helplessness.
At that time, the best a woman could hope for was to be the king’s oldest wife and have his firstborn. Possessing more sons than the other wives was a means to ensure the husband’s affection, or at the very least, become the head queen. The epics wouldn’t be complete without the rivalry and intrigue among co-wives in the Kshatriya households.
Before the modern-day feminist protest, it is worth noting that society similarly treated women until the 19th century. The power struggle between the ruler’s wives and their sons shaped Maratha and Rajputana history. Janani Dyodhi’s conspiracies back then were the stuff of legends.
Today, in many parts of society, people still expect women to fulfill one among several roles with unique behavior templates — she can be the docile daughter, shy bride, dutiful daughter-in-law, sacrificing mother, indulgent bhabhi, or concerned wife. The traditions of MBH society still hold on to ‘arranged’ marriages, where the boy’s family’s wealth and status dominate the girl’s voice. ‘Love’ only became a factor in marriage once women could pursue education and gain financial stability. The press still reports of ‘honor killings’ ordered by Khap Panchayats of the North Indian hinterland, should the kid choose to follow her heart, rather than the family diktat.
But India also contains multitudes, and amongst the educated and emancipated classes, the needle has moved. Here, the women demand greater independence, and the momentum is on their side. When she can contribute to the monthly EMI for their dream apartment, when she can compete in a corporate pitch, she also gains more independence and control in other areas of her life. This woman snoots a thumb in the face of patriarchy.
The topic has attracted a lot of attention, and there have been large shifts in the last couple of hundred years. Polygamy is banned and various other laws, democratic voting rights, education, and financial autonomy are shifting towards a new, more liberating trajectory.
The MBH code of conduct for women is under scanner, and changing.
MEN of MBH
One of the tallest figures in epic BHISHMA, was the ever-sacrificing son of Shantanu. He fought battles, arranged the lives of two generations, brought up other people’s children, and found brides for all, including the blind and the impotent. He tried his best to avoid the eighteen-day war, but failed.
But, when we consider the story from a female point of view, his charm loses its impact. His abduction of three princesses (Amba, Ambika, Ambalika), his means of organizing wives for blind Dhritarashtra and impotent Pandu, shows him callous to the plight of those princesses. Did he value the continuation of the Kuru clan more than the dignity and lives of the humiliated ladies? Is it possible to justify his inhumane treatment of these royal women? Can individuals find a rationale for their actions when they do things for others that would be unacceptable if they did those things for their own benefit? Was it because women were seen as men’s property, like chattel?
He died a bitter old man, in his 90s, witnessing the calamity of the 18-day war. Was it not possible for him to give up worldly pursuits earlier, as the scripture advised? Given that he had been granted the power to choose when he would die by his father, Shantanu, wouldn’t it have been logical for him to free himself from life? Without the burden of a kingdom or marriage, Bhishma had the power to control his death, granting him the freedom to leave the world — yet he chose not to.
VIDURA, whose name means “the knowledgeable,” was born through the practice of niyoga. The story revolved around Vyasa, a wise sage and a handmaiden serving the queens, Ambika, and Ambalika. Vidura belonged to Sutas* class and was a degree below the khsatriyas. Hence, his stepbrothers–Pandu and Dhritarashtra, both with physical limitations, sat on the throne; Vidura, physically and mentally the fittest, was left empty-handed.
(* Sutas–Traditional charioteers and bards by profession. Despite their proximity and ability to advise without fear, they can never be equal to the Kshatriyas. Neither they nor their offspring could sit on the throne. Beautiful suta women, like Sudeshna, could become Kshatriya queens, but the Kshatriyas never gave their daughters to the sutas. Other Important MBH characters–Karna, Sanjay & Yuyutsu belonged to the same class.)
Yet, at no time, we see Vidura bewailing his sorrows or loss. When compared to the other characters in the Mahabharata, perhaps his life was relatively happy, though tinged with a hint of melancholy. He lived in his own house, spending his time in reflection, meditation, and worship. Besides mentioning his marriage to a woman from the suta community and their children, MBH doesn’t delve into his personal life.
Throughout the epic, he focused his wisdom not on selfish or mundane concerns, but on universal truths. While Bhishma remained apathetic towards the unjust treatment of the Pandavas, Vidura voiced his support for fairness. Repeatedly, in his counsel to Dhritarashtra, he emphasized the foolishness of greed, the importance of justice, and the eternal nature of the soul. But all this knowledge fell on the deaf ears of a blind father.
The Mahabharata portrays every individual, regardless of their gender or social standing, being deeply involved in various activities. Dhritarashtra, Pandu, Gandhari, Kunti, Duryodhana, the Pandavas, Draupadi, Subhadra, Drupada, Krishna, and the Yadavas — all experienced a turbulent existence filled with seesawing emotions, passionate relationships and bitter conflicts. Whatever real peace they had came only after death.
Vidura’s peaceful life serves as a stark contrast to the surrounding chaos, and it goes largely unnoticed.
Now, onto KARNA, the tragic hero of MBH, who’s also a suta.
He was born out of wedlock to a divine father. Abandoned by the princess mother, and was raised by a charioteer. His whole life was a series of challenges as he tried to answer the question, “Who am I?” Despite his courage and noble pedigree, he was never granted the status of a Kshatriya. Bhishma and Drona continued to mock him until the very end, while Duryodhana, despite claiming to be his friend, maintained a relationship that was more like a protector and dependent.
MBH asserts that being high born is not determined by birth, but by effort and actions, without offering evidence. No matter how well someone conducted themselves, social mobility was limited. The lottery of birth sealed his fate — in the age-old storytelling tradition, the child paid for the misdeeds of forefathers.
Next up, there are two important Brahmins in the story — the father and son, Drona and Ashwatthama.
DRONA arrives at MBH to teach the young princes of the Kuru clan. Smarting from the perceived insult by King Drupada, he takes revenge by utilizing his pupils’ army and capturing half of the kingdom of Panchal. He remains loyal to Bhishma and Duryodhan, and fights ruthlessly as a general of the Kaurav army after Bhishma is downed. On this battleground, he is killed by deceit.
ASHVATTHAMA, the son, gradually lost his sense of self, leading to terrible consequences for everyone involved. In line with his father’s path, he opted to specialize in combat skills instead of delving into brahmanical teachings. He abandoned every trait associated with a Brahmin and, following his father’s assassination, carried out a barbarous, frightful campaign of cruelty. As a result, Krishna curses him to suffer a life more hideous than a thousand deaths.
None of the Brahmin virtues mentioned in the scriptures, such as forgiveness, serenity, or self-control, seem to apply to Drona, or his son Ashwatthama. He was more of a warrior, being true to the master whose bread he had eaten. While the text doesn’t portray Drona as despicable, it strongly censures his son Ashwatthama for his behavior during the last days of the war.
However, Drona’s character is now facing criticism from previously marginalized groups whose voices are now being heard. MBH supports the traditional Hindu caste system and believes that one’s birth cannot be transcended; this goes against the growing empowerment and voice of the marginalized classes.
The incident involving Drona and Eklavya is quite famous, wherein the teacher asks for and gets the student’s thumb amputated, to end any possibility of him posing a threat to Arjuna. To this, the 20th-century poem by the Dalit writer Shashikant Hingonekar responds:
If you had kept your thumb
history would have happened
somewhat differently.
But … you gave your thumb
and history also
became theirs.
Ekalavya, since that day they have not even given you a glance.
Forgive me, Ekalavya, I won’t be fooled now by their sweet words.
My thumb will never be broken.
Finally, the most impressive character in the epic is KRISHNA. His strategic ability becomes apparent during the war as he repeatedly saves the day for Pandavas. His Geeta teachings continue to serve as a timeless guide, addressing themes such as duty, responsibility, conquering fear and doubt, and discovering the purpose of life.
In the MBH retelling, Krishna’s depiction showcased him as an extraordinary human with incredible powers, but people did not worship him as a god. He had multiple wives, with Satyabhama being the eldest. She was always by his side when he visited the Pandavas. Rukmini, who gains significance in later books, is only mentioned once or twice. Radha is nowhere to be found.
Arjuna and Krishna were of the same age, and friends. Krishna treated Dharma and Bhima with reverence as his elders, and in return, the twins Nakul-Sahdev showed him respect, but he regarded Arjuna as an equal and embraced him so.
Megasthenes, the Greek Ambassador to Chandragupta Maurya’s court, made an interesting connection by identifying Krishna as the Greek hero Hercules.
The Krishna portrayed in the Mahabharata differs altogether from the later depiction as a divine child, miracle worker, or lover of milkmaids playing the flute. The Krishna cult emerged in the centuries that followed.
THE CLAN MATTERED
MBH tells the story of rival families, with Kshatriya and Brahmin as the “good guys,” while other tribes were the “bad guys.” The narrative is a shrewd commentary on the duality of society, where the rules applied to ‘Us’ differed from those applied to ‘Others’. Some call it hypocrisy and others term it as statecraft. Again, a couple of examples stand out:
Lac house and the burning of a tribal woman with 5 sons: before Draupadi’s swayamvar, the Kauravas devised a scheme to eliminate the Pandavas. They built a palace using lac, a flammable material and gifted it to them in a faraway border town. Becoming aware of the scheme, the Pandavas cleverly outsmarted their foes by making use of a hidden passage to escape, setting fire to the residence, along with the architect and six other individuals who were in attendance. The victims were an innocent tribal mother and her five sons, who had come to the palace in search of alms, and they were burnt as collateral damage. In later telling, storytellers put different spins. In one account, someone described the tribal woman as both cruel and a partner in crime with Purochana, the architect. Based on an alternate version, she pretended to be friendly towards Kunti, but in truth, she was cruel.
In brief, the accounts twisted the facts to support the heroes’ untarnished image that caused the loss of six innocent lives.
Burning of Naga Forest and the Takshak story: The marriage of Draupadi to the Pandavas elevated their status and gave them power. The plot to eliminate them had backfired, and they had resurfaced with powerful allies on their side. Dhritarashtra was obliged to grant the Pandavas a part of the kingdom. He kept Hastinapura, the capital that had been passed down through generations, for himself and his sons, while granting the Pandavas Khandavaprastha. This was a little-known town on the border of the kingdom, flanked by Yamuna, and surrounded by great forests. Later, this was rechristened as Indraprastha — ‘the city of the gods’. The pandavas began constructing the city here but quickly ran out of available land.
In their quest for more land, Krishna and Arjuna burned down the forest next to them. Both ensured that there were no gaps or openings for the creatures to flee through as the fire raged. Furiously driving their chariots, the two slaughtered everything in sight; fire devoured those driven back into the jungle. Only Takshak (the naga king), and a few other creatures escaped the catastrophe. Later, in the Puranic tradition, a narrative was created where Agni, the fire God, asked for the forest to be consumed by flames, and Krishna and Arjun, fulfilling their duty, consented.
The story is disturbing, to say the least. There is a simple and believable explanation… The Aryan people were all about cows and plowing with animals. Their history records many instances of either burning or cutting down forests. The narrative highlights an ongoing battle between the Aryans, who recently arrived, and the Nagas, the land's natives. The struggle stemmed from the quest for land ownership, and the merciless slaughter was to wipe out Takshak’s clan and any future claim.
People in MBH praise this massacre as a valorous act since the victims were neither Kshatriyas nor their Aryan subjects. Did the Kshatriya code, which emphasized moral values like not harming the defenseless, women, or children, solely apply to their own?
It is alarming how often victors have employed this perverse justification throughout history. Examples abound — Spanish and Portuguese colonization in South America, English colonization in North America and Australia, the German Holocaust, and Israel’s actions in Palestine.
FINAL THOUGHTS
The Mahabharata is a collection of stories of an astonishing sweep. No other text has as many discussions about dharma as this epic. Miracles, magic, and madness are all present in it. It is prepared to venture into the depths of the human mind, where greed, deceit, and fear dwell. Within the narratives, one can meet not only humans but also heavenly Devas, subterranean Asuras, celestial Yakshas, bewitching Apsaras, and the harmonious Gandharavas living in the woods. In this world, mischievous fairies have the power to tempt ascetics, and lustful sages can father children with the young daughters of the host. It tells stories to teach and uses metaphors to keep it polite. It’s the Chronicles of Narnia, written like 2000 years ago.
In a compilation of stories that evolved over centuries, there are apparent variations in its tone and texture. Jaya, the original story, is about keeping it real and showing the messy side of humanity. It’s all about people, their battles, goals and imperfections. Later, they added stories that resembled a patchwork quilt with shoddy fabric and loose threads. The difference is as palpable as a literary classic compared to the airport variety pulp novel. These are the ‘Happy Ending’ genre, where crazy miracles happen, gods come down, and bad luck turns into good luck. Some such examples are the stories of Harishchandra, Sudama, and Satyavan-Savitri.
In these later stories, the hero-heroine walked into the golden sunset, no matter how big their problems were, as long as they prayed earnestly to their god. While Jaya’s main plot is emotionally and intellectually disturbing, these side stories are sweet, soggy, and sentimental. They lack the intellectual vigor of the core.
Historians named it Bhaktimarga (the devotion cult), which led to fatalism, the meek and passive acceptance of one’s fate that thrives today. The original meaning of ‘dharma’ as a call to confront and conquer adversity devolved into the act of submitting oneself before a deity, prophet, or guru, with the expectation of a miraculous outcome.
As one can see, MBH stories are based on a society that existed thousands of years ago. Hereditary kings ruled over these small kingdoms that were surrounded by jungles. The primary source of livelihood was cattle herding and farming. The Vedic newcomers started assimilating with the locals, yet their cultural customs still centered on their traditional pastoral way of life.
However, even though society has almost completely vanished, the social values of a patriarchal family structure persist. Evidence is all around us–There is a fixation on the male child. Men eat their food first, while women serve. The son receives a clean chit in contributing to home chores; he gets a more lenient verdict in choosing his friends or girlfriend. The dude gets a better education, while the girl is told to focus on household skills so she doesn’t ruin the family’s reputation after getting married.
Similarly, in the Vedic times of MBH, valuing the wishes of elders, even if unfair, was vital. Yayati manipulated his sons and daughters to his advantage. To continue enjoying worldly pleasures, Yayati manipulated his sons and daughters to his advantage. His son Puru sacrificed his youth, while his daughter Madhavi was given to sage Galava who exploited her for his gain. Next, we saw Bhshima, where he sacrificed his happiness for his father. In Indian (and other Eastern) cultures, people still highly value elders’ decisions, regardless of their unjust demands.
Present-day society differs from the times of Mahabharata. The shift towards an industrial economy, the prevalence of nuclear families, often with two incomes, and the evolution of political democracy have all played a role in shifting the cultural ethos. We earlier saw the progressive shifts in women’s positions and the rising voices from historically disadvantaged groups.
A vast compendium, such as the Mahabharata, contains a wealth of knowledge, stories, and teachings. However, within its pages, one can find a multitude of perspectives, opinions, and moral lessons that may sometimes contradict each other, or may have lost relevance over the centuries. Understanding the relevance of the messages in this vast compendium demands sober analysis and personal reflection.
The burden falls on the reader to discern the worthwhile from the unimportant. Adopting all the values from the MBH without question would be lazy and risky, as it cannot address the complexities of modern life. Each person’s journey and circumstances are singular, and trying to fit every aspect of the epic into one’s life can feel like trying to force a square peg into a round hole. The cult of bhaktimarga, the blind following of an ancient epic, has perhaps run its course, and the messiahs propounding its timelessness need to be questioned.
After all, one can’t drive forward while looking at the rear-view mirror all the time.
