Arjun was inconsolable. The war was finally over. After 18 days of war, he should be exhilarated that they had won! Instead all he felt was a bone deep weariness.
18 long days they had fought tooth and nail, with everything in their arsenal. For what?? Dharma?? Duty?? Righteousness??
He had lost his only son, his loving Abhimanyu to the foes. And who were the foes? His own cousins, his own blood. All for the sake of Dharma. The country was decimated. Most kings killed with their legacy handed down to incompetent children.
What about his own lineage? All of his children and those of his brothers killed by treachery! The only surviving offspring, the unborn child of his son, the only one to carry forward the pandav line.
The mighty Pandavas, he laughed to himself. The ignorant Pandavas, the unholy pandavas, more likely.
They should have listened to Krishna. He had warned them that the only outcome from war would have been destruction, the destruction of everything that they held dear. The end of Bharatvansh. But there were consumed with rage at their cousins for the mistreatment meted to them over the years. They wanted revenge.
18 days of devastation had left the country ravaged. The armies had eaten and pillaged everything in their path. The loss of life so grievous, that the population had been reduced to less than half. The use of ‘God’ weapons or as he called them ‘the ancients’, the daivya astras had left its mark on the countryside. Certain areas would be unliveable for centuries.
Arjun was at the lowest point in his life. He as the weapons master of his camp took the responsibility for the wreckage that his weapons, or rather the weapons that he had taken from the ancients. He was a brotherkiller, a teacherkiller, a killer of men. He had used the weapons given to him by the Gods to wreck havoc in the enemy camp. The most amount of deaths were attributed to him. He hated the sound of his name when people cheered him as the Hero of the war. He wasn’t a hero, he was the hangman, the killer, the taker of lives.
He confided in his brother Yudhisthir about how he felt. Krishna, his teacher had left for Dhwarka and so was unreachable for advice. Yudhisthir was the most level headed person Arjun knew and trusted. He called onto Yudhisthir to his palace one day after the war. He explained how the ancients had demanded that the weapons be returned to them post the war. But how he, Arjun, felt that they must never be given back.
‘They are weapons of the gods, despite the fact that they were bestowed upon us. No human should ever have this sort of power over his equals. These weapons cannot fall into the hands of humans again. Most of the people who know about them are dead or driven insane by the war. If we return these weapons to the Gods, they will bestow them on our progeny, who will wreck a similar or deadlier war on Bharat.’ said Arjun.
‘So we should just give up the arms that helped us win the war??’ asked Yudhisthir. ’forsake our only defence?’
‘Yes’ replied Arjun ‘for the sake of our children and their children.’
‘This is madness! How will you protect our lineage? Our lands?’ pressed Yudhisthir.
‘After the war, the decimated troops of our allies and our foes are in no condition to harm us. Not for a couple of hundred years at least. And by then the weapons will become legends. No one would have seen or heard of them, just like Ramji’s weapons. ‘ said arjun. ‘we will be safe. Hastinapur and indraprasth will live on even once we have passed on’
Yudhisthir was deep in thought. He did not like the thought of abandoning their defence, the very weapons which would soon become legend all over the land. But he, like Arjun, was also repenting his decision to go to war. He blamed himself as he was the patriarch of the family. His older brother Karna was dead. He was responsible for the death of all his relatives, his own children. He reluctantly agreed to Arjuns logic.
The weapons were too dangerous to be let loose over bharat again. They couldn’t hand them back to the ancients, they had to be destroyed.
‘Do as you see fit’ said Yudhisthir ‘vijay bhva’.
Arjun left from the palace in no apparent hurry. He strolled down to the saraswati, walking slowly, lost in his thoughts. Even the river was dying, whether from the weapons or nature. Its waters tinged red from all the blood spilt. It was the end of an Age.
He was in a dilemma. He wanted the weapons to be lost in time, but dint want to destroy them. He cared more about Bharat and his lineage than he let on to his brother. The weapons were to be kept safe and hidden so that they could be used by his grandsons if they ever fell into dire need. But they were too dangerous to be kept where anyone could have access to them. Also the ancients had tracking mechanisms on all their weapons. So he would need to disable those and ‘God proof’ them so that the ancients never get them back.
It was a task that would consume the rest of his life.
He managed to hide the weapons with the help of his grandson, Parikshit, the only one who would know the location and the secret of handling the weapons once Arjun passed on.
It took 36 years. it started the advent of the Kali yuga. The dark age of mankind.
