I was drawn to this book primarily because of its name - Yuganta. The word carries a musical, soulful mystery – it is romantic, it speaks of history in gigantic (end of an epoch) terms, it promises insight into one of the greatest epics of Indian literature and religion - the Mahabharata.
I have not read the Mahabharata, I have faint recollection of the televised serial, but the book’s central theme caught my attention. I wanted to know the actual story of the Mahabharata and I thought this book was my answer to a summarized English version of the epic. I was, however, pleasantly surprised to read pages of scientific and historical enquiry, of years of study and research, and deep-felt insight into the characters and the times of the Mahabharata. I confess to have found more than I had hoped for in this tiny paperback.
The most important revelation for me as a person previously ignorant of the true intent and content of the epic was that the Mahabharata was essentially a treatise of the life and times of certain people. It was a story told by ‘sutas’ or court bards, and further embellished by latter Brahmans and sutas, to make it an ever-growing epic.
Infact, Iravati traces historical evidence to prove that “Mahabharta” or the “Great Book of Bharata” was initially a Poem of Triumph (Jaya) and later grew to magnificent proportions, from the tale of Bharata, to the “Maha” tale of the descendents of Bharata and their family feud. Iravati has no qualms in saying that there were later additions to the original manuscript and many later tales were purely imaginary and full of fantasy. In the essay on the “Palace of Maya” she gives practical evidence to prove the “reality” of the palace of illusion. Similarly, she does not divinify Krishna, but depicts the humanness of his character in incidents like the burning down of the forest and ruthless massacre of the residents of Khandava.
“’Mahabharata’ is the name of a book in the Sanskrit language telling in very simple verse form the story of a family quarrel ending in a fierce battle.” Precise, down-to-earth, realistic with literary and historic value, this is how Iravati chose to introduce the Mahabharata and this is exactly how she chose to describe the main characters in this great epic.
Iravati lends flesh and bones to the characters of the Mahabharata, be it Bhishma, Vidura, Dharma (Yudhistra), Karna, Arjun or even Krishna, she analyses their human dilemmas, emotions and social stature with simplicity and relevance. However, the greatest applause goes to the characterization of the women of the Mahabharata – Gandhari, Kunti, Madri and Draupadi are seen as women who may suffer and sacrifice, but in reality they foam and froth, they seek revenge and they retaliate, they stand by their men not as mannequins, but as women with mind, spirit, knowledge, emotions and desires.
Iravati asserts that the men and women of the Mahabharata are real – with follies and fallacies, pride and valor, guile and guilt, pain and pleasure, sacrifice and sabotage, supremacy and delinquency, fear and threat, selfishness and charity, grandeur and austerity – the entire gamut of everything that screams of “humanness.”
I would suggest this book as a great weekend read, especially for women readers. A woman can empathize better with the depiction of the female characters, for example, when:
• Gandhari adorns the blindfold not in empathy of her blind husband but in utter distress for the life she is forced to lead;
• Kunti is sensitive to the needs of the childless Madri at one time, and jealous of her beauty and influence over Pandu, at another;
• Madri cannot control her passion and causes the doom of Pandu and then walks into the death pyre in retribution of the curse her beauty and womanhood brought about;
• Draupadi fumes and froths at her humiliation due to Dharma’s lack of insight and love for gambling, and leaves no opportunity to slight Dharma with demonstration of her knowledge and learning.
The above examples are snapshots of the plethora of human emotions that seep from the essays that Iravati has compiled. Similar, pathos and sensitivity is seen in the characterization of the men. This slim volume is bulky because of the weight of the character portrayal and some very sensitive rendering.
Some of my favorite touching moments in this book are:
• In the essay on “Father and Son” that lends a new perspective to the “word-play” in the Mahabharta and the need to delve deeper into the historical truth.
• The reference to the undercurrents of the emotions between Vidura and Kunti with the possibility of intimacy and union between them to bring forth children, and the description of their last days together, when they accompany Dhrithrashtra and Gandhari to the forest and then walk hand-in-hand into the forest fire.
• And the most beautiful moment is the revelation to Draupadi, at the time of death of her true lover, Bishma, when she asks “Is Love always like that? Is it always one-sided? I pine for someone who doesn’t return my love, someone else yearns for me;….”
Get your copy of “Yuganta” and find your own personal favorites, find a character close to your heart, get a new perspective of the life and times of the Mahabharata.







