Vidura’s seven
Author’s note:
It has been said that the epic Mahabharata contains all the lessons and morals that we will ever need to know to lead our lives well. There are brave women and men, vain and evil (mostly) men, heroes and martyrs, and wise people who guide the rest through the maze of dharma and karma. With one exception of Krishna (and his contemporaries and equals Vedavyaasa and Parashurama), no one was wiser than Vidura who stood alone against evil while many men of supposedly great pedigree chose to compromise their values. Here is an attempt to shed some fresh light on Vidura’s wisdom, with due acknowledgements to the scholarly pravachanas (lectures) of Late Sri Bannanje Govindacharya on the subject. Enough literature and other forms of art have been produced on the actual Kurukshetra war, but I feel not enough has been explored and said about the dark times leading up to this terrible war.
The episode I chose places Dhritarashtra and Vidura on opposite ends of a conversation, which is as seen through Dhritarashtra’s eyes. Rather, through his mind. As always, I have stretched the boundaries of narration with what I felt were acceptable literary liberties.
Vidura’s seven
War seemed inevitable. I had the world’s largest military at my command, which was ready to wage war at my slightest nod. Still, I couldn’t help feeling utterly helpless.
I am no stranger to darkness, having lived with it all my life. I wonder if I shut the light out of my mind, like it was shut out of my eyes. I wish I had listened to wise counsel when there was still time. Still time to avert the disastrous war, a war that we cannot lose, but I am afraid we cannot win either. I am the overlord of the Kurus, I can wage a thousand wars but cannot stop one. I am Dhritarashtra, the Emperor. Yet, I have never felt so powerless.
I tossed and turned in my bed, weighing my options. I can see with my mind’s eyes the ship of hope listing and slowly sinking. The battle in my mind seemed like a preview of something darker in the future. It was then that I decided to turn to the one person I have always trusted to lay it on the table like he saw it. Vidura.
I sent for him. I could hear his footsteps, gentle yet assured, like one who knows his purpose. Why does he pause at the door? He seeks permission from the doorman, when he knows he does not need to. Is here as my dear brother like I had hoped, or as my advisor?
“What is bothering you, my dear King? You seem to be overwhelmed with guilt, as though you have stolen a treasure from somebody.” Vidura has not lost his touch, words dripping not with honey but with truth and sarcasm. I should be angry, yet, this is strangely comforting.
“Vidura, I am anxious to know what message our emissary Sanjaya has brought back from the Pandavas. He has insight into how likely the war is between my sons and the Pandavas. But he will only speak when the whole court has assembled tomorrow morning. I am unable to sleep, so I might as well spend this time listening to good advice. Please enlighten me with words of wisdom, for no one in this Empire is wiser than you.” I saw Vidura was unmoved, as though he expected this. He will not let his brother down, even if he disagrees with his King.
“There are several things to look for in a person, to see if he or she can be considered wise,” started Vidura, collecting his thoughts. “One should neither get carried away due to praise, nor get disheartened due to criticism. Gaining wisdom requires one to accept that what she does not know or understand today can exist, and that acceptance leads to inquiry which can lead to knowledge.”
“Take for instance, the desirable qualities of a Queen or a King, someone in a position of power with the ability to affect the lives of a large number of people. Like yourself, my dear King,” continued Vidura. I am still just his King, not his brother. I can command his respect, but not his affection.
“Listen to this carefully,” said Vidura. “A ruler has to use one to decide between the two, win over the three using four, establish control over the five, learn the six, and renounce the seven. This is the secret to keeping the subjects happy.”
I was not ready for this. I was already sleep deprived, and I stared blankly at Vidura hoping he would decode his puzzle for me. Why can’t I have a simple, normal conversation with him?
“An objective, unbiased and a clear mind is the first thing a ruler must have,” continued Vidura. “This is the one thing the ruler can use to decide between right and wrong, just and unjust, understand what is important and what is urgent, and all the decisions that need weighing between two compelling choices.”
This seemed simple enough, almost obvious to me. Three to seven would not be too difficult to comprehend. Perhaps three refers to the states of consciousness — awake, deep sleep and dreams, and we have to win over ourselves in each state with the knowledge gained through studying the four Vedas. This advice is relevant for not just rulers, but also for common folk.
“A King’s subjects can be of three types. Those who support him, those who oppose, and the fence sitters. To win them all over, there are four different ways — saama, daana, bheda and danda,” said Vidura. He did not touch upon the states of consciousness, but I know our literature and teachings encourage us to develop our own understanding and interpretations.
“Saama is about finesse and diplomacy, where you use a fine scalpel to delicately carve a consensus, while danda is about crushing dissent with a sledgehammer. Daana is to offer incentives for people to get on your side. Finally, bheda is the timeless art of creating rifts, and breaking the unity of the opposition. Bheda is to divide and rule,” concluded Vidura on the number four.
All this is well and good, but none of the above four have worked in our conflict with the Pandavas till date, nor do I have any hope of anything working. Saama is probably the right way to resolve our differences with them, but my dear son Duryodhana is busy building an axis in preparation for war. Now what does Vidura mean by establishing control over the five?
I could feel Vidura’s searching eyes on me. There was no use trying to hide my thoughts. I know history will not be kind to me, for generations to come will think that I could have stopped the drums of war with a wave of my hand. My only wish is that my side of the story be also told.
“Establishing control over the five senses is an absolute must for a ruler,” Vidura chose his words carefully. “For many a King conquered vast lands with his mighty armies, but failed to keep his Kingdom together because he could not get a grip on himself.”
“You must be wondering about six and seven, my dear King,” said Vidura. I was eager to get the full picture. Vidura was the son of Vedavyaasa, the Rishi who brought the Vedas to their current compiled form. He is the rightful heir to all that knowledge, with his amazing ability to extract essence from complexity.
“There are six layers of knowledge, let us look at it from the bottom which is the most basic, all the way up to the top which can only be gained with one’s own experience,” continued Vidura. “Bottom most layer is adhibhuta, the physical or material sciences. A ruler’s education, or anyone’s for that matter, must start here. While the physical sciences and enquiry are necessary, they are nowhere sufficient, for we have barely even touched the surface of this bottomless ocean. I am afraid that future generations will not go beyond this layer, for they will think physical science is where the knowledge ends, and they will forget our Rishis who told us that science is where the knowledge begins,” his voice trailed off.
I am, if I can be honest, more worried about where our current generation is headed with the roaring avalanche of war directly headed our way. Then again, Vidura was unstoppable.
“Beyond the physical sciences is adhidaiva, the system of knowledge where the universe is understood through its components. Each component has an administrator, or a daiva, who marshals resources and ensures proper functioning of the component. Take our eyes, for example. The beauty is in the subtleties, as always. It is more appropriate to say that I look through my eyes, rather than saying my eyes are looking. I can establish a layer of separation between me and my eyes, and so my eyes become a resource for me, a component. If you think a bit deeper, you will see that I do not control my eyes, I am merely a user of this valuable resource. If I could control it, my Lord, it would be as powerful as it was 50 years ago. Someone is indeed in charge of my eyes, and it’s not me. And the power that is in charge of our eyes is Surya (Sun). It is precisely this knowledge that every element in this universe is administered by a power is called adhidaiva,” Vidura smiled as I stared at him in awe.
Vidura went on to describe the remaining four upper layers of knowledge, culminating at the top with Karma. All this sounded fantastic, but I was nowhere close to a good night’s sleep yet.
“People who will inherit mother Earth millenia later will probably remember seven as the vices to avoid, even if they forget the rest of what I have said tonight,” said Vidura with a trace of what I thought was disappointment in his voice. To tell you the truth, I will find it hard to remember what he has shone such a brilliant light on. It is hard to worry about what happens millenia later when your existence today is as secure as a lamp in the wind. “Uncontrolled desires, substance abuse, gambling, extreme ego about one’s knowledge, loose talk, abuse of power, and finally unchecked spending are the seven vices that rulers have to steer themselves away from,” concluded Vidura.
The list sounded like something made with Duryodhana in mind. Surely Duryodhana has some good qualities, and no one is perfect, not even Yudhishtira.
Whether the clouds of war will be blown away, or if the darkness is here to stay, only Sanjaya can unravel in the morning. Until then, Vidura’s seven will keep me company.
