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Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata by Devdutt Pattanaik. Read online. It is one of excellent work of devdutt, mahabharata abridged with illustration,must read for yazik.infoN SHASTRAS. Read "Jaya An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata" by Devdutt Pattanaik available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download.

Devdutt Pattanaik Jaya Ebook

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Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata eBook: Devdutt Pattanaik: yazik.info: Kindle Store. Editorial Reviews. Review. I had always thought of reading and knowing the Mahabharata but for download. Share. Kindle App Ad. Look inside this book. Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata by [Pattanaik, Devdutt ]. why you want to download it? It is full of lies and twists epic and see some of them. It is murder of vyasa epic in many ways. well, no one knows.

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The Litigators. John Grisham. With the beginning. So the author chooses to call his book 'Jaya - An illustrated retelling of the Mahabharata' rather than simply 'Mahabharata retold' or some such It is not just to stand apart from the other versions, no maam; he just I don't always judge a book by its cover but in this case, the cover just lured me in. It is not just to stand apart from the other versions, no maam; he justifies his choice of this title quite satisfactorily before the book ends.

Also, this book is literally 'illustrated' with his line drawings which are simple yet evocative. This book is divided into 18 parts. Ved Vyasa's Mahabharata is also divided into 18 parvas but there is no one-to-one correspondence between the divisions made by Vyasa and Pattanaik.

For example, in this book the great war has been compressed into just 1 part whereas in Vyasa's version, 4 of the 18 parvas are devoted to the war - Bhishma parva, Drona parva, Karna parva and Shalya parva.

He paced night and day, unable to eat or sleep. Bards were sent to tell him tales that would soothe his soul, but nothing could allay his fear. His father was Abhimanyu who single-handedly broke the Chakra-vyuha, most complex of battle formations. With such an illustrious lineage, he should be afraid of nothing.

Yet he cowers in his tower. Let not one slithering Naga come close to me. Every thing that entered the tower was searched; Nagas could hide anywhere.

Six nights later, on the seventh day, a famished Parikshit bit into a fruit; hidden within was a worm that instantly transformed into a fearsome serpent. It was the Naga Takshaka! The venom spread rapidly; Parikshit cried out in agony but before any of the guards could come to his aid, he was dead and the Naga had slithered away.

He ordered all the Brahmans of his kingdom to perform the Sarpa Sattra, a sacrificial ritual with the power to destroy all the snakes on earth. Soon a fire blazed in the centre of Hastina-puri and a plume of black smoke rose to the sky. Around the altar sat hundreds of priests pouring spoonfuls of ghee to stoke the flames. They chanted strange magical hymns and invoked invisible forces that dragged the Nagas out of their subterranean homes into the pit of fire. Hastina-puri saw swarms of wriggling serpents in the skies being drawn towards the sacrificial hall.

The air was filled with the heart-wrenching cries of snakes being roasted alive.

This is adharma. You are one of them! My mother was a Naga. I am you and your enemy, human and serpent. I take no sides. Listen to what I have to say, otherwise you will deny peace to all your descendants.

He saw a sage sitting under a banyan tree and asked him for some water. But the sage was deep in meditation and did not respond to the royal request. He cursed Parikshit that he would die within seven days of snakebite. Thus you see, Janamejaya, your father brought his death upon himself.

Why did he bite my father? That forest was the home of many Nagas. Its burning left Takshaka and many like him homeless and orphaned. Takshaka swore to make Arjuna, or one of his descendants, pay. The killing of your father was his revenge.

Now the Nagas burn once more in your sacrificial hall. More orphans will be created. More vengeance will be wreaked. You do what your ancestors did. And you too, like them, will suffer as they suffered. Blood will flow and widows will weep, as they once did in Kuru-kshetra.

Is that what you want, Janamejaya? The chanting stopped. The fire stilled. Silence descended as curious eyes fell on the king. You kill the Nagas for justice. The orphans you create by this yagna will also crave for justice. Who decides what justice is? How does one end this unending spiral of revenge where everyone believes they are right and their opponents are wrong? He pondered over what Astika had said.

That war was about dharma. And dharma is not about justice; it is about empathy and wisdom. Dharma is not about defeating others, it is about conquering ourselves. Everybody wins in dharma. When the war at Kuru-kshetra concluded even the Kauravas went to paradise. The Kauravas, reviled as villains by you and your forefathers, went to Swarga, that abode of pleasure where the gods reside. You may have inherited the kingdom of the Pandavas but not their wisdom.

You do not even know the true meaning of dharma that was revealed to Arjuna by God himself. It is the tale of your forefathers, and all those kings who came before them.

When Vaisampayana finally arrived, he saw in the sacrificial hall thousands of serpents suspended above a sacrificial fire, hundreds of priests around the altar impatient to complete their ritual, and a king curious about his ancestry.

The storyteller-sage was made to sit on a deer skin. A garland of flowers was placed around his neck, a pot of water and a basket of fruits were placed before him. Pleased with this hospitality, Vaisampayana began his tale of the Pandavas and the Kauravas and of all the kings who ruled the land known as Bharata. This was the Jaya, later to be known as the Mahabharata. Within the maze of stories flows the river of wisdom.

That is your true inheritance. A Sattra was a yagna performed on a grand scale with hundreds of priests over several years. While rituals helped man cope with the many material challenges of the world, they did not offer man any spiritual explanations about life. For that stories were needed. And so, during yagnas, and between them, bards were called to entertain and enlighten the priests and their patrons with tales.

In due course, the tales were given more value than the yagna. In fact, by CE, the yagna was almost abandoned. Sacred tales of gods, kings and sages became the foundation of Hindu thought.

The Mahabharata is populated not only by Manavas or humans but also by a variety of beings such as Devas who live in the sky, Asuras who live under the earth, Apsaras or nymphs who live in rivers, hooded serpents who talk called Nagas, forest spirits called Yakshas, warrior-musicians of the woods called Gandharvas and brute barbarians called Rakshasas.

Some like Asuras and Rakshasas were hostile to humans and hence deemed demons, while others like Devas and Gandharvas were friendly hence worshipped as gods and demi-gods.

The Nagas had an ambiguous status, sometimes feared and sometimes worshipped. Rationalists speculate that these various non-human races were perhaps non-Vedic tribes that were gradually assimilated into the Vedic fold.

It is said that the chief priest, Uttanaka, who was conducting the Sarpa Sattra had his own grouse against the Nagas. As part of his tuition fee, his teacher had asked him to give his wife the jewelled earrings of a queen. With great difficulty, Uttanaka had managed to get such earrings but these were stolen by the Nagas.

To avenge that theft, Uttanaka wanted to perform the Sarpa Sattra. But he did not have the wherewithal to conduct it. Thus while Janamejaya thought his was the only reason for the sacrifice, he was mistaken.

There were many besides him who wanted to destroy the Nagas. Humans call this realm Swarga. Its residents, the Devas, know it as the city of Amravati. Here there is no pain or suffering; all dreams are fulfilled and all wishes are granted. To sustain this delight, the Devas have to at regular intervals defeat their eternal enemies, the Asuras, who live under the earth.

Their victory depends on the power of yagna. Brihaspati, god of the planet Jupiter, performs the yagna for the Devas. For the ritual to be successful, Brihaspati needs his wife, Tara, goddess of the stars, to sit by his side.

Tara had grown tired of her analytical husband, who was more interested in ritual than her. She had fallen in love with the passionate Chandra who adored her.

The Devas were divided: should they force Tara to return to her husband, who saw her merely as an instrument of ritual, or should she be allowed to stay with her lover, who made her feel alive?

After much debate, pragmatism prevailed. The yagna of the Devas was more important than the happiness of Tara; without the power of yagna, the Devas would be unable to shower the earth with light and rain. Without yagna, there would be darkness and drought on earth. No, Tara had to return to Brihaspati. Tara returned reluctantly. When she came, it was clear she was with child.

Both Chandra and Brihaspati claimed to be the father. Tara remained silent, stubbornly refusing to give out the identity of the man who had made her pregnant. I deserve to know. They declared this child would be the lord of Buddhi, the intellect, that part of the mind which enables one to distinguish truth from falsehood and thereby make choices. He would be called Budh. Indra intervened in his capacity as king.

It does not matter who sowed the seed in the field; what matters more is who the master of the field is. Since that day, law took precedence over natural phenomena in heaven and on earth; fatherhood was defined by marriage. For humans, the Amravati of the Devas is the paradise of pleasure that one can go to if one lives a meritorious life. Muthuswami Dikshitar, the 18th century doyen of Carnatic music, in his kriti dedicated to the Nava-grahas, or nine celestial bodies of astrology, refers to Mercury as being neuter.

In many images of Nava-grahas, Budh is sometimes shown as male and sometimes as female, suggesting his nature is mercurial. The Devas are sky-gods, the enemies of Asuras who live under the earth.

Their fights are endless. Their alternating victory and defeat ensure the rhythmic change of seasons. In art, Budh rides a Yali, a mythical creature that has the head of an elephant but the body of a lion, a reminder of his liminal nature. It will all work out. Have faith. But Ila was no woman; she was once a man, a prince called Sudyumna, son of Manu, the first king of humans. One day Sudyumna had ridden into a forest over which the great hermit Shiva had cast a spell that turned all male creatures into females.

Lions of the forest had turned into lionesses and peacocks into peahens. Shiva had done this to please his consort, Shakti, who did not want any male, animal or human, to disturb her when she was in the company of her lord. When Sudyumna realized that he had lost his manhood in the forest, he begged the goddess to restore it. Together they had many sons. They were called the Ailas, the descendants of Ila. They were also called the Chandra-vamsis, descendants of the moon, a title that did not quite please either Brihaspati or the Devas.

This is why perhaps logical reasoning often eluded the passionate kings of this lineage. In time, the Chandra-vamsis would forget the gender ambiguity of both Budh and Ila. They would stop him from entering the battlefield. Such is the nature of man-made laws: ignorant of the past and insensitive to the present. The Mahabharata tells the stories of the Chandra-vamsis, descendants of the moon, or rather Budh-vamsis, descendants of Mercury, who were infamous for their moral ambiguity, and quite different in character from the upright Surya-vamsis, descendants of the sun, whose tales are told in the Ramayana.

Boons and curses are an integral part of Hindu mythology. They are rooted in the concept of karma that states that all actions have reactions that one is obliged to experience in this life or the next. Actions that yield positive results are punya; in narratives they take the shape of boons. Actions that yield negative results are paap; in narratives they take the form of curses. Punya is spiritual merit that generates fortune and paap is spiritual demerit that generates misfortune. The concept of paap and punya is meant to explain why bad and good things happen in the world.

The story of Ila being both male and female is found in the Mahabharata and in many Puranas. In some retellings, Ila is called the daughter of Manu.

While performing a yagna for a son, Manu mispronounced the magic formula and ended up with a daughter instead. Manu was the son of Surya, the sun-god. Besides Ila, Manu had another son called Ikshavaku whose descendants came to be known as Surya-vamsis, or the solar line of kings. This line included Ram, prince of Ayodhya, whose tale is told in the Ramayana.

Moon is associated with emotions, Jupiter with rationality and Mercury with clarity, communication and cunning. The story suggests that the Chandra-vamsis were by nature rather emotional, a trait that needed to be contained by logic. Urvashi was an Apsara, a rivernymph, who lived with the gods and only occasionally stepped on earth. She was so beautiful that when she walked, all the animals stopped to gaze at her; every tree, every bush, every blade of grass reached out to touch her.

Pururava fell in love with her. It was a new experience for Urvashi and she enjoyed it. She bore her human husband many sons. And yet, Indra could not bear this momentary separation from Urvashi.

He ordered the celestial musicians known as Gandharvas to bring her back. Someone is stealing my goats! Keep your promise, husband, and bring them back.

As he ran out of the palace behind the thieves, Indra hurled a thunderbolt across the sky. In the flash of the lightning, everyone in the city saw Pururava naked.

The condition that kept Urvashi on earth, away from the gods, was as a result broken. It was time for her to return to Amravati. Without Urvashi, a heartbroken Pururava became mad and could not rule. Such is the power of passion. The Rishis were forced to replace him with one of his more disciplined sons, one more fit to rule. Some say, Pururava still weeps in the forest and scours the riverbanks in search of Urvashi.

Others say, she has turned him into a Gandharva and he follows her wherever she goes as music maker to her dance. The obsessive passion of Pururava for Urvashi that led to his downfall would become manifest generations later in Shantanu, not once but twice, first in his love for Ganga and then his love for Satyavati, with the same disastrous consequences. Because human memory is short, and history always repeats itself.

Apsa means water and so Apsara means a water-nymph.

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Water comes to earth from the heavens in the form of rain and returns after a brief stay. This water sustains life on earth. Thus the story symbolically refers to the craving of man Pururava for water Urvashi that comes from, and eventually returns to, the sky Indra. Urvashi lays down conditions that have to be met before she accepts any man as husband. It suggests a pre-patriarchal society where women were mistresses of their own sexuality.

In Vedic society, women were considered extremely valuable because only through them could a man father a child, repay his debt to his ancestors and keep rotating the cycle of rebirths. It is she who chases him; the gods allow her to stay with him provided he never sees the child she bears him. Urvashi therefore secretly delivers the child while he is away attending a yagna, and requests the sage Chyavana to raise him in secret. Years later, the inevitable happens: the father sees the son and the nymph returns to the abode of the gods.

These kingdoms set the stage for the great war at Kuru-kshetra. So he gave up his material possessions, took the vow of celibacy and started performing ascetic practices known as tapasya. If successful, he would become more powerful than any man, or god. Fearing that Kaushika intended to displace him, Indra sent an Apsara called Menaka to distract Kaushika. Of all the damsels in Amravati, Menaka was the most beautiful.

Kaushika lost all control of his senses when she danced before him. He abandoned his tapasya, forgot his vow of celibacy, and surrendered to passion. From that union of hermit and nymph was born a girl. The child was abandoned on the forest floor by both her parents; by her father because she represented his monumental failure and by her mother because she was nothing more than proof of her success.

A Rishi called Kanva found the abandoned girl under the wings of a flock of Shakun birds who had surrounded her. So he named her Shakuntala, she who was found sheltered by birds. Kanva raised Shakuntala as his own daughter in his hermitage in the forest, and she grew up to be a very beautiful and cultured woman. He was hunting in the forest and wanted to pay his respects to the sage, and maybe rest for a few days in the hermitage. Unfortunately, Kanva was away on a pilgrimage; he found himself being welcomed by Shakuntala.

Dushyanta fell in love with Shakuntala instantly. The innocent Shakuntala, smitten by the handsome king, agreed. So the two got married with the trees as their witness and spent days in the hermitage making love. Finally, it was time for Dushyanta to return home. Kanva had still not returned and Dushyanta could not wait any longer. Many weeks later Kanva returned. He was overjoyed. Both celebrated the event and waited for Dushyanta to return.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. There was no sign of Dushyanta. In due course, Shakuntala gave birth to a son who was named Bharata. Bharata grew up in the care of Kanva and Shakuntala. Rather than wait for Dushyanta to send an invitation, Kanva felt it was best that Shakuntala go to Dushyanta on her own and introduce the boy to his father.

Shakuntala agreed and, with her son by her side, ventured out of the forest for the first time. As she left, the trees gifted her with cloth and flowers and fragrances so that she looked beautiful when she met her beloved again.

But when Shakuntala stood before Dushyanta and introduced herself and her son, Dushyanta showed no sign of recognizing her. Everyone including Dushyanta laughed. Shakuntala, a simple woman of the forest, uncontaminated by the politics of kings and kingdoms, was indignant.

I have done so. I have raised him as a mother should. Now, I request you to raise him as a father should. Suddenly, a voice boomed from the sky admonishing Dushyanta for doubting Shakuntala. She was indeed his wife and Bharata was indeed his son. Dushyanta apologized for his behaviour and blamed it all on his fear of social disapproval. He then declared Shakuntala his queen and Bharata his heir.

Bharata was one of those unique kings who descended from the solar line of kings through his mother, Shakuntala, and from the lunar line of kings through his father, Dushyanta. Since his descendants ruled all of Jambudvipa, the rose-apple continent of India, the land itself was named Bharata-varsha, or simply Bharata, after him.

Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata

Tapa means spiritual fire that is generated through ascetic practices known as tapasya. The conflict between a Tapasvin or fire-churning hermit and an Apsara or water-nymph is a recurring theme in the scriptures. It is the conflict between spirituality and sensuality. Spirituality earns merit and gives one access to the pleasures of the world, but indulgence in sensual pleasures causes loss of merit.When she came, it was clear she was with child.

Salman Rushdie. Who decides what justice is? Pururava fell in love with her. English Download options: The killing of your father was his revenge. Still above is Vaikuntha, heaven, abode of God. It is narrated to Krishna by a Yadava elder called Vikadru.