Reading the Mahabharata is always an emotionally-draining exercise, no matter how many times one has read it before or whose version one is reading. This magnum opus of human failings, ironically titled Jaya, or victory, is the story of everyman. Vyasa's immortal tale resonates with us because, as in life, there are no absolutes in his art. Every character, every situation is grey. Every dark cloud comes with a silver lining, and darkness lurks even in the brightest spaces. The sublime spiritual message of the Gita sits like a lotus in the mire of human passion.
Where love, honour and propriety are at stake, everything is fair. The war between the Pandavas and the Kauravas may as well be the war between the voices in our head. A little tug of conscience here, a little pull of desire there and the roles can be reversed. This is where author Anand Neelakantan comes in. In his latest book, Rise of Kali: Duryodhana's Mahabharata, he masters the art of reversing roles, turning heroes into villains and vice versa.
The other side of the story
Neelakantan became the modern torchbearer of the ancient underdog when he released his maiden book, Asura: Tale of the Vanquished – The Story of Ravana and his People in 2012. The book went on to become a bestseller, bringing the author and his fresh narrative into the limelight. The quality of language was, however, suspect.
Neelakantan has often admitted to not being comfortable with English, but there has been a remarkable improvement in his style of writing in the Mahabharata series. The first book, Ajaya: Epic of the Kaurava Clan – Roll of the Dice was released in 2013 and was well received. Readers awaited book II, which was supposed to be released in December 2014, but came out only at the end of July 2015.
The series may be awkwardly titled and the cover art not as attractive as Asura, but his anti-Mahabharata definitely trumps his anti-Ramayana. Neelakantan defines his characters, gives the prelude and sets the stage in the first book, Ajaya. As the title suggests, book one ends in the middle of the infamous dice game, where the fate of the Pandavas hangs in the balance.
Rise of Kali takes off from the dramatic point of Draupadi's shameful public disrobement. This is one of the most morally perplexing incidents of the Mahabharata and it is here that the author struggles with loyalties. Even the staunchest supporter of the Kauravas will find it hard to justify Draupadi's humiliation and sometimes the author seems to forget whose side he is on.
But he is soon back to defending his Kaurava heroes, weaving in fictional episodes to establish their heroism and nobility. Considering the original work was written mostly from the Pandavas' point of view, one must admire the number of scenarios he cooks up to make his point. Other deviations such as Bhishma and Vidura's resignations, Iravan's head being mounted on a pole instead of Barbarika's, Khatotkacha not being a giant rakshasa but a simple forest dweller, Krishna asking Jara to kill him, abound.
Neelakantan gives special importance to the character of Ashwatthama by introducing a fictional situation of conflict between him and Shakuni. A similar conflict is portrayed between Parashurama and Karna, which results in a war and Karna's eventual victory.
A tribal connection
Ekalavya is yet another character who is given a lot of importance in this version of the epic. In contemporary India, Ekalavya is often considered the mascot of the tribal people. The author uses this fact and offers him a place of pride in the plot.
Suyodhana (commonly known as Duryodhana) teams up with him and makes him king of the forest dwellers, just as he does for Karna. In this way, the author depicts the Kaurava crown prince as secular and fair, who grants equal opportunities to people, regardless of their caste.
Neelakantsn pushes the envelope and casts Ekalavya as something of a godfather to Duryodhana's children. He even goes so far as to suggest that the Nishada is an aspect of Shiva, and recreates the famous Kiratarjuiyam episodes as a confrontation between Arjuna and Ekalavya instead of Arjuna and Shiva!
Just as Neelakantan paints the traditional bad guys in good light, he goes on to heartlessly demonise the so-called good ones. One episode that traditionalists will find unpalatable is Krishna's ruthless murder of Ekalavya in a prison cell to save his son, Samba. The author is unforgiving about Krishna's many other unscrupulous war tactics, which are otherwise justified in the Mahabharata because of his divine agency.
Through Suyodhana's eyes, we see only a charlatan Yadava prince, who constantly cheats and connives to ensure the success of the Pandavas. The Pandavas are also depicted as heartless princes, especially when it comes to their lower caste children like Iravan and Khatotkacha.
The author is hardly able to conceal the bitterness he feels about the unfair treatment of the lower castes in the epic. The real villains, in his eyes, are people like Dhaumya and Parashurama who want to maintain the path laid down by the scriptures. We see him argue fiercely against the varna and jati systems, not once but thrice, when Balarama, Arjuna and Suyodhana are in three different conversations with Krishna.
In the chapters detailing the great 18-day war, the point of the Pandavas’ unfair strategies is driven home over and over. The deaths of Bhishma, Drona, Abhimanyu, Karna and finally Suyodhana are all known to have been brought about through some kind of treachery, but the author rubs it in further.
In fact, in Neelakantan's Mahabharata, even Arjuna does not sound convinced of the message in Krishna's Gita, let alone the readers. The author posits the centuries-old question in simple, human terms. If divinity and magic were to be stripped off the story, would the means still justify the ends? Would the Pandavas still be the heroes and the Kauravas, the villains?
Rise of Kali: Duryodhana's Mahabharata, Anand Neelakantan, Platinum Press.
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Where love, honour and propriety are at stake, everything is fair. The war between the Pandavas and the Kauravas may as well be the war between the voices in our head. A little tug of conscience here, a little pull of desire there and the roles can be reversed. This is where author Anand Neelakantan comes in. In his latest book, Rise of Kali: Duryodhana's Mahabharata, he masters the art of reversing roles, turning heroes into villains and vice versa.
The other side of the story
Neelakantan became the modern torchbearer of the ancient underdog when he released his maiden book, Asura: Tale of the Vanquished – The Story of Ravana and his People in 2012. The book went on to become a bestseller, bringing the author and his fresh narrative into the limelight. The quality of language was, however, suspect.
Neelakantan has often admitted to not being comfortable with English, but there has been a remarkable improvement in his style of writing in the Mahabharata series. The first book, Ajaya: Epic of the Kaurava Clan – Roll of the Dice was released in 2013 and was well received. Readers awaited book II, which was supposed to be released in December 2014, but came out only at the end of July 2015.
The series may be awkwardly titled and the cover art not as attractive as Asura, but his anti-Mahabharata definitely trumps his anti-Ramayana. Neelakantan defines his characters, gives the prelude and sets the stage in the first book, Ajaya. As the title suggests, book one ends in the middle of the infamous dice game, where the fate of the Pandavas hangs in the balance.
Rise of Kali takes off from the dramatic point of Draupadi's shameful public disrobement. This is one of the most morally perplexing incidents of the Mahabharata and it is here that the author struggles with loyalties. Even the staunchest supporter of the Kauravas will find it hard to justify Draupadi's humiliation and sometimes the author seems to forget whose side he is on.
But he is soon back to defending his Kaurava heroes, weaving in fictional episodes to establish their heroism and nobility. Considering the original work was written mostly from the Pandavas' point of view, one must admire the number of scenarios he cooks up to make his point. Other deviations such as Bhishma and Vidura's resignations, Iravan's head being mounted on a pole instead of Barbarika's, Khatotkacha not being a giant rakshasa but a simple forest dweller, Krishna asking Jara to kill him, abound.
Neelakantan gives special importance to the character of Ashwatthama by introducing a fictional situation of conflict between him and Shakuni. A similar conflict is portrayed between Parashurama and Karna, which results in a war and Karna's eventual victory.
A tribal connection
Ekalavya is yet another character who is given a lot of importance in this version of the epic. In contemporary India, Ekalavya is often considered the mascot of the tribal people. The author uses this fact and offers him a place of pride in the plot.
Suyodhana (commonly known as Duryodhana) teams up with him and makes him king of the forest dwellers, just as he does for Karna. In this way, the author depicts the Kaurava crown prince as secular and fair, who grants equal opportunities to people, regardless of their caste.
Neelakantsn pushes the envelope and casts Ekalavya as something of a godfather to Duryodhana's children. He even goes so far as to suggest that the Nishada is an aspect of Shiva, and recreates the famous Kiratarjuiyam episodes as a confrontation between Arjuna and Ekalavya instead of Arjuna and Shiva!
Just as Neelakantan paints the traditional bad guys in good light, he goes on to heartlessly demonise the so-called good ones. One episode that traditionalists will find unpalatable is Krishna's ruthless murder of Ekalavya in a prison cell to save his son, Samba. The author is unforgiving about Krishna's many other unscrupulous war tactics, which are otherwise justified in the Mahabharata because of his divine agency.
Through Suyodhana's eyes, we see only a charlatan Yadava prince, who constantly cheats and connives to ensure the success of the Pandavas. The Pandavas are also depicted as heartless princes, especially when it comes to their lower caste children like Iravan and Khatotkacha.
The author is hardly able to conceal the bitterness he feels about the unfair treatment of the lower castes in the epic. The real villains, in his eyes, are people like Dhaumya and Parashurama who want to maintain the path laid down by the scriptures. We see him argue fiercely against the varna and jati systems, not once but thrice, when Balarama, Arjuna and Suyodhana are in three different conversations with Krishna.
In the chapters detailing the great 18-day war, the point of the Pandavas’ unfair strategies is driven home over and over. The deaths of Bhishma, Drona, Abhimanyu, Karna and finally Suyodhana are all known to have been brought about through some kind of treachery, but the author rubs it in further.
In fact, in Neelakantan's Mahabharata, even Arjuna does not sound convinced of the message in Krishna's Gita, let alone the readers. The author posits the centuries-old question in simple, human terms. If divinity and magic were to be stripped off the story, would the means still justify the ends? Would the Pandavas still be the heroes and the Kauravas, the villains?
Rise of Kali: Duryodhana's Mahabharata, Anand Neelakantan, Platinum Press.
