SECTION LXXV
“Vaisampayana said, ‘Hearing these words from Bhima, that were fraught with such mildness and that were, as unexpected as if the hills had lost their weight and fire had become cold, Rama’s younger brother Kesava of Sura’s race and mighty arms, wielding the bow called Saranga, laughed aloud, and as if to stimulate Bhima by his words, like the breeze fanning a fire, addressed him who was then so overwhelmed by the impulse of kindness, saying, ‘At other times, O Bhimasena, thou applaudest war only, desirous of crushing the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra that take delight in the destruction of others. O chastiser of foes, thou dost not steep but wakest the whole night, sitting up face downwards. Thou often utterest frightful exclamation of wrath, indicative of the storm within thy heart. Inflamed with the fire of thy own fury, thou sighest, O Bhima with an unquiet heart, like a flame of fire mixed with smoke. Withdrawing from company thou liest down breathing hot sighs, like a weak man pressed down by a heavy load.
They, who do not know the cause regard thee as insane. As an elephant breaking into fragments uprooted trees lying on the ground grunteth in rage while trampling them under his feet, so thou also, O Bhima, runnest on, breathing deep sighs and shaking the earth under the tread. Here in the region thou takest no delight in company but passest thy time in privacy. Night or day, Nothing pleases thee so much as seclusion. Sitting apart thou sometimes laughest aloud all on a sudden, and sometimes placing thy head between thy two knees, thou continuest in that posture for a long time with closed eyes. At the other times, O Bhima, contracting thy brows frequently and biting thy lips, thou starest fiercely before thee. All this is indicative of wrath.
At one time, thou hadst, in the midst of thy brothers, grasped the mace, uttering this oath, ‘As the sun is seen rising in the east displaying his radiance, and as he truly setteth in the west journeying around the Meru, so do I swear that I will certainly slay insolent Duryodhana with this mace of mine, and this oath of mine will never be untrue.’ How then doth that same heart of thine, O chastiser of foes, now follow the counsels of peace? Alas, when fear entereth thy heart, O Bhima, it is certain that the hearts of all who desire war are upset when war becometh actually imminent. Asleep or awake, thou beholdest, O son of Pritha, inauspicious omens. Perhaps, it is this for which thou desirest peace. Alas, like a eunuch, thou dost not display any sign indicative of manliness in thee. Thou art overwhelmed by panic, and it is for this that thy heart is upset.
The heart trembleth, thy mind is overwhelmed by despair, thy thighs tremble, and it is for this that thou desirest peace. The hearts of mortals, O Partha, are surely as inconstant as the pods of the Salmali seed exposed to the force of the wind. This frame of thy mind is as strange as articulate speech in kine. Indeed, the hearts of thy brothers are about to sink in an ocean of despair,–like swimmers in the sea without a raft to rescue them. That thou, O Bhimasena, shouldst utter words so unexpected of thee is as strange as the shifting of a hill. Recollecting thy own deeds and the race also in which thou art born, arise, O Bharata, yield not, to grief, O hero, and be firm. Such langour, O repressor of foes, is not worthy of thee, for a Kshatriya never enjoyeth that which he doth not acquire through prowess.'”
SECTION LXXVI
“Vaisampayana said, ‘Thus addressed by Vasudeva, the ever-wrathful Bhima, incapable of bearing insults, was immediately awakened like a steed of high metal, and replied, without losing a moment, saying, ‘O Achyuta, I wish to act in a particular way; thou, however, takest me in quite a different light. That I take great delight in war and that my prowess is incapable of being baffled, must, O Krishna. be well-known to thee in consequence of our having lived together for a long time. Or it may be, thou knowest me not, like one swimming in a lake ignorant of its depth. It is for this that thou chidest me in such unbecoming words. Who else, O Madhava, knowing me to be Bhimasena, could address me with such unbecoming words as thou dost? Therefore, I shall tell thee, O delighter of the Vrishnis, about my own prowess and unrivalled might. Although to speak of one’s own prowess is always an ignoble act, yet, pierced as I am by thy unfriendly strictures, I will speak of my own might. Behold, O Krishna, these–the firmament and the earth–which are immovable, immense, and infinite, and which are the refuge of, and in which are born these countless creatures.
If through anger these suddenly collide like two hills, just I, with my arms, can keep them asunder with all their mobile and immobile objects. Behold the joints of these my mace-like arms. I find not the person who can extricate himself having once come within their grasp. The Himavat, the ocean, the mighty wielder of the thunderbolt himself, viz., the slayer of Vala,–even these three cannot, with all their power extricate the person attacked by me. I will easily trample on the ground under my feet all the Kshatriyas, who will come to battle against the Pandavas. It is not known to thee, O Achyuta, with what prowess I vanquished the kings of the earth and brought them under subjection. If, indeed, thou really knowest not my prowess which is like the fierce energy of the midday sun thou wilt then know it, O Janardana, in the fierce melee of battle. Thou woundest me with thy cruel words, paining me with the pain of opening a foetid tumour. But know me to be mightier than what I have said of myself of my own accord. On that day, when the fierce and destructive havoc of battle will begin, thou will then see me felling elephants and car-warriors combatants on steeds and those on elephants, and slaying in rage the foremost of Kshatriya warriors.
Thou, as well as others, wilt see me doing all this and grinding down the foremost of combatants. The marrow of my bones hath not yet decayed, nor doth my heart tremble. If the whole world rusheth against me in wrath, I do not yet feel the influence of fear. It is only for the sake of compassion, O slayer of Madhu, that I am for displaying goodwill to the foe. I am far quietly bearing all our injuries, lest the Bharata race be extirpated.'”
SECTION LXXVII
“The holy one said, It was only through affection that I said all this, desiring to know thy mind, and not from the desire of reproaching thee, nor from pride of learning, nor from wrath, nor from desire of making a speech. I know thy magnanimity of soul, and also thy strength, and thy deeds. It is not for that reason that I reproached thee. O son of Pandu, a thousand times greater will be the benefit conferred by thee on the Pandava’s cause than that which thou thinkest thyself to be capable of conferring on it. Thou, O Bhima, with thy kinsmen and friends, art exactly that which one should be that has taken his birth in a family like thine, that is regarded by all the kings of the earth. The fact, however, is that they can never arrive at the truth, who under the influence of doubt proceed to enquire about the consequences hereafter of virtue and vice, or about the strength and weakness of men. For it is seen that what is the cause of the success of a person’s object becometh also the cause of his ruin.
Human acts, therefore, are doubtful in their consequences. Learned men, capable of judging of the evils of actions pronounce a particular course of action as worthy of being followed. It produces, however, consequences, the very opposite of what were foreseen, very much like the course of the wind. Indeed, even those acts of men that are the results of deliberation and well-directed policy, and that are consistent with considerations of propriety, are baffled by the dispensations of Providence. Then, again, Providential dispensations, such as heat and cold and rain and hunger and thirst, that are not the consequences of human acts, may be baffled by human exertion. Then again, besides those acts which a person is pre-ordained (as the result of the act of past lives) to go through, one can always get rid of all other acts begun at his pleasure, as is testified by both the Smritis and the Srutis.
Therefore, O son of Pandu, one cannot go on the world without acting. One should, hence, engage in work knowing that one’s purpose would be achieved by a combination of both Destiny and Exertion. He that engageth in acts under this belief is never pained by failure, nor delighted by success. This, O Bhimasena, was the intended import of my speech. It was not intended by me that victory would be certain in an encounter with the foe. A person, when his mind is upset should not lose his cheerfulness and must yield neither to langour nor depression. It is for this that I spoke to thee in the way I did. When the morrow comes, I will go, O Pandava, to Dhritarashtra’s presence.
I will strive to make peace without sacrificing your interests. If the Kauravas make peace, then boundless fame will be mine. Your purposes will be achieved, and they also will reap great benefit. If, however, the Kauravas, without listening to my words, resolve to maintain their opinion, then there will undoubtedly be a formidable war. In this war burthen resteth on thee, O Bhimasena. That burthen should also be borne by Arjuna, while other warriors should all be led by both of you. In case of war happening, I will certainly be the driver of Vibhatsu’s car, for that, indeed, is Dhananjaya’s wish and not that I myself am not desirous of fighting. It is for this that, hearing thee utter thy intention, I rekindled that thy energy, O Vrikodara.'”
