Disclaimer: This is a review of “Govinda” by Krishna Udayasankar. Beware of unintentional spoilers.
Mahabharata, the quintessential piece of ancient literature that has survived centuries if not millennia through various cultures, traditions and languages. Time after time, it has been used as an educational tool to demonstrate how certain things can and will go wrong despite our best efforts to contain it. The Bhagavad Gita, narrated by Krishna to Arjuna in the battlefield just before the Battle of Kurukshetra and still considered a guidebook of sort by a lot of people, theists and atheists alike, is but a part of one of the eighteen Parvas (Volumes) of the entire text of Vyasa Mahabharata. The Vyasa Mahabharata (or Jaya Samhita) is the text supposedly compiled by Ved Vyasa, who himself appears as an important character in the epic. There are many other versions of Mahabharata in local languages and regions. Every version of Mahabharata incorporates details from the respective compilers, details differing from Vyasa’s version.
The thing about mythology is that it attracts people because of its elusive nature. Various mythologies around the world were built around primitive observations by our early ancestors. Our first gods were based on forces of nature. Sun. Sky. Earth. Rain. Thunderstorm. Fire. Water. Elements of nature anthropomorphized in form of deities. Sentient beings have the ability to recognize patterns in the environment. We use this ability to determine the patterns of nature. This was our rudimentary attempt at science. Somebody found out that friction creates fire. Somebody else found out that rain helps plants grow. The Sun comes out from one direction and goes down in the opposite direction. The small lights in the sky keep changing places, but their patterns, the shapes, remain constant. All these observations contributed to our previous stories and our gods became complex. As we entered civilization, out previous myths started fading. We learned that fire is not magical and there are ways to control it and use it. We learned that we can grow crops by cultivating lands, planting seeds, and supplying just enough amount of water from the river. Our knowledge eliminated the mysterious nature of the myths and transformed them into something else. We created new gods for new ways of life. Civilizations rose and fell, and so did their gods.
Before we invented writing, knowledge was about memorization and oral transmission. Writing made the task easier, as we could preserve the knowledge for future generations without requiring scholars to memorize entire texts. We started with stone tablets, and then gradually moved towards engraved metallic plates, leaves or tree barks, animal skin, and then paper. Now we are in the age where paper is slowly losing its edge. It will take a few hundred years to completely get rid of paper I guess, but we are already at the stage where I am writing this using a portable computer device that I can keep on my lap. The original Sanskrit text of Vyasa Mahabharata is a few clicks away thanks to the global network of computing devices, better known as the Internet. A few thousand years ago, the story of Mahabharata was an elusive tale with gods, sorcery, and superweapons. In present times, Mahabharata is as elusive as Marvel and DC Comic Multiverses, or Harry Potter, or Tolkien’s Middle Earth stories, or GRRM’s A Song of Ice and Fire series. The morals have remained the same, but the medium has changed, the presentation style has changed. Our early ancestors used to recite shlokas and sing songs. Our later ancestors used to perform plays. We use movies and television as mass media to tell these stories.
These technological advances are a result of progress in various scientific fields. Now we know a lot of things, facts and concepts that we were not aware of, or that we were unable to prove because of lack of technological advances required. And just like it had happened before, this new and improved knowledge poses threat to the mystical element of mythology. How do we explain the genesis of Dhritarashtra and Gandhari’s 101 children? How do we counter the contradictory claims about characters that exist in one version of the myth and not in others? How do we justify Pandava’s decision to have a common wife? How do we explain Shikhandi’s ambiguous gender? Here, we observe the same phenomenon that spawned indefinite versions of Mahabharata in ancient times: Retelling the myths using our present knowledge of concepts.
This trend may have started way earlier, but it observed a significant rise after Amish Tripathi’s Immortals of Meluha was released. Shiva Trilogy is a modern retelling of the mythology surrounding Lord Shiva, taking place during Indus Velley Civilization and explaining its collapse. Anand Neelakantan tells the story of Ravana’s fall in Asura: Tale of the Vanquished, taking the contrary view and painting Rama as an antagonist. Ashok Banker has published entire series of books on Ramayana and Krishna. Similarly, Krishna Udayasankar has reimagined the world of Mahabharata in her The Aryavarta Chronicles series.
Govinda is the first book in The Aryavarta Chronicles trilogy. The trilogy as a whole takes the divine and mysterious legends of the Kurukshetra War and strips it down to human level. The Rakshasas of mythology become Rikshasa or tree-people. Divine weapons turn into scientific and technological marvels. The terrible Danavas turn into tribal mercenaries. The most interesting transformation, however, is that of the core narrative. While Mahabharata is a tale of war between cousins of the Kuru dynasty for the throne of Aryavarta, The Aryavarta Chronicle depict the family squabble as secondary to the larger struggle between two orders. The first of them are the Firstborns. Firstborns are the descendants of Vasishta Varuna, the firstborn son of Brahma. They are the protectors of the Divine Order on the and advisors to various kings of Aryavarta. The head of the order is known as Vyasa, the Record Keeper, and the current Vyasa is Krishna Dwaipayana, son of Parashara Varuni by a fisherman’s daughter named Satya. Dwaipayana is also stepbrother to Devavrata Bhisma, regent to the throne of Hastinapur and son of Kaurava king Shantanu, via Satya’s marriage to the king. When both of Satya’s son died childless, she asked Dwaipayana to perform Niyoga ceremony with her youngest son’s widows, producing princes Dhritarashtra and Pandu along with Vidur who was born to a handmaiden. Pandu was given the throne because of Dhritarashtra’s blindness, but he vacated it and left to live in the forest with his wives and died there. Now, the blind King Dhritarashtra rules Hastinapur with the help of Vidur, his half-brother, and Grandsire Bhisma, the regent.
The other order in this narrative is that of the Firewrights. Firewrights are descendants of Agni Angiras, also a son of Brahma. While the Firstborn strive to preserve the Divine Order on earth, the Firewrights value knowledge above everything else. The pursuit of knowledge often leads them to explore the intricacies of the Divine Order, subverting the authorities of the Firstborn, which has put both the order against each other. For years, kings of Aryavarta depended upon the Firstborn to legitimize their sovereignty on the realm, while the Firewrights served as their weapon-makers. Eventually, the Firstborn influenced the kings of Aryavarta enough to convince them that Firewrights were keen on destroying the Divine Order and therefore they needed to be punished. The kings of Aryavarta began the Great Scourge, the systematic hunting and killing of Firewrights, which reduced and forced the Firewright order into anonymity. A key figure who participated in the Scourge on behalf of the throne of Hastinapur was Govinda Shauri.
Govinda Shauri is a Yadava chief and the Commander of the armies of Dwaraka. Just like our Krishna from Mahabharata, Govinda is a man unlike anybody has ever seen. He was born to Yadava chief Vasudeva and his wife Devaki in the prison of Mathura by Devaki’s brother Kans. Govinda was smuggled out of the jail and raised in a village until he and his half-brother Balabadra defied Kans’s authority and killed him. After that, he assumed the rule as a Yadava chief like his father, but he and his people were driven out of Mathura by repeated attacks from Jarasandha, ruler of Magadha and current Emperor of Aryavarta. Govinda travelled to Dwaraka with his people and built a new city away from Jarasandha’s reach. However, to the rulers of Aryavarta, Govinda stands out like a sore thumb. He does not believe in the Divine Order the way others do. He possesses knowledge that others have never heard of or decided to deliberately avoid. He refuses to take sides in the eternal struggle between the two orders despite aiding the Firstborn cause and participating in the Scourge. He lives by his own principles, as it is apparent by his rule at Dwaraka. He is also a master politician who has only one dream, and that is to bind everyone together and create the great Empire of Aryavarta. The only thing that he remotely appears to care about, apart from the people of Aryavarta, is the princess of Panchala, Panchali Draupadi.
Unlike the popular version of Mahabharata, Panchali is not the wife of five brothers in this book. She is married to Dharma Yudhisthir, the eldest son of Pandu despite the real circumstances of his and his brothers’ conception being shrouded in secrecy. She and her brother Dhrstydymn are orphans adopted by King Dhrupad of Panchala. Shikhandin is the Panchali’s elder brother and not the most favorite son of their father, to the point that there are rumors about his impotency and the questionable paternity of his son Yudhamanyu. Syoddhan is the crown prince of Hastinapur and has a much better characterization compared to the vile and greedy Duryodhana that we usually see in our television shows. Krishna Dwaipayana, the Vyasa of the Firstborn, is portrayed as a master puppeteer who wants his progenies to rule Aryavarta, affirming the authority of the Firstborns as the protectors of Divine Order. Divine weapons such as the Brahm-astra and the Nag-astra are Firewright inventions, as are the various technological advances contributing to the prosperity of the realm. Govinda tells us the tale of the political chess match between Dwaipayana and Govinda Shauri, where both of them dream of creating an empire and neither of them is willing to refrain from using the other characters as pawns in order to achieve that goal.
Mythological tales like the Mahabharata have two aspects to it: historical and moral. The historical aspect is about authenticity. Even though a large part of world population considers Mahabharata as a fictional tale that incorporates real locations and societal practices, some view it as a real story with fictional elements. Govinda takes a similar route and gives us the “real” story (in the context of the novel) that was later exaggerated by adding elements of fantasy to it. Govinda Shauri became an incarnation of Narayana. Pandavas and Karna became children of Kunti by various Devas. The conflict of Pandavas and Kauravas replaced the eternal struggle of the Firstborn and the Firewrights, but the core narrative of the story remained the same.
Books like Shiva Trilogy and The Aryavarta Chronicles represent something that most people tend to overlook. These books are built on the same narrative that is present in almost every mythological tale involving a two-sided conflict, the struggle between order and chaos. In Shiva Trilogy, it is the conflict between the idealistic Suryavanshis and the materialistic Chandravanshis. In Govinda, it is the struggle between the Firstborn, who strive to protect the Divine Order, and the Firewrights, who put knowledge above archaic traditions. Between the Firstborn and the Firewrights, Govinda Shauri represents the point of equilibrium between two ideologies, the best of both worlds. He wants to create an empire that integrates the ideals of the Firstborn with the knowledge of the Firewrights, an idea abhorred by many from either sides. He represents the middle ground, the third option that is beneficial to most and harmful to least. This makes him unpredictable and dangerous, and therefore not a popular choice for emperor, something that he gladly accepts as a part of his life. Govinda is the tale of a man who wants to build an empire but does not desire the throne, because the true victory for him is the prosperity of the realm and he is ready to sacrifice his own life if it comes to that.
The story of Govinda continues in the other two books of the trilogy, Kaurava and Kurukshetra. The reviews for both will be published (hopefully) in near future.
