The Mahabharata: A Shortened Modern Prose Version of the Indian Epic

By R. K. Narayan and Wendy Doniger

“Narayan makes this treasury of Indian folklore and mythology readily accessible to the general reader . . . he captures the spirit of the narrative.”—Library Journal

The Mahabharata tells a story of such violence and tragedy that many people in India refuse to keep the full text in their homes, fearing that doing so would invite a disastrous fate upon their house. Covering everything from creation to destruction, this ancient poem remains an indelible part of Hindu culture and a landmark in ancient literature.

Centuries of listeners and readers have been drawn to The Mahabharata, which began as disparate oral ballads and grew into a sprawling epic. The modern version is famously long, and at more than 1.8 million words—seven times the combined lengths of the Iliad and Odyssey—it can be incredibly daunting.

But contemporary readers have a much more accessible entry point to this important work, thanks to R. K. Narayan’s masterful, elegant translation and abridgement of the poem. Now with a new foreword by Wendy Doniger, as well as a concise character and place guide and a family tree, The Mahabharata is ready for a new generation of readers. Narayan ably distills a tale that is both traditional and constantly changing. He draws from both scholarly analysis and creative interpretation and vividly fuses the spiritual with the secular. Through this balance he has produced a translation that is not only clear, but graceful, one that stands as its own story as much as an adaptation of a larger work.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9780226057477

R. K. Narayan

R K Narayan (1906-2001) is the author of more than 15 novels. He is widely recognized as one of India’s most eminent novelists.

Book preview

1   The Eighth Baby

SANTANU WAS THE RULER of an ancient kingdom with its capital at Hastinapura*1. One day while out hunting, he came upon a lovely maiden by the river and fell in love with her. He announced himself and asked, Will you be my wife? Being equally attracted to him, she said, Yes, but listen carefully to what I say now. When I am married, I must be absolutely free to do what I like. At no stage should you ever question my action. I’ll stay as your wife only as long as you observe this rule. Santanu accepted the condition wholeheartedly and they were married.

In due course, she brought forth a baby, and as soon as it could be lifted, drowned it in the river. Santanu was shocked and bewildered, but could ask no questions. The next child was also promptly drowned, and then another and another. As soon as it was born, she carried off every child to the river and returned to the palace with a smile of satisfaction. Her husband never referred to this monstrous habit of hers for fear that she might leave, since in all other respects she proved a splendid wife.

When the eighth child came and she got ready to dispose of it, he followed her. Unable to control himself any more, he cried, This is too horrible. Stop it!

She replied calmly, Yes, I will spare this child, but the moment has come for us to part.

Oh, tell me why, before you go.

So she explained, "Know me now as Ganga, the deity of this river. I took human form only in order to give birth to these eight babies, as ordained. I married you because you were the only one worthy of fathering them. The children are the eight vasus.*2 In their past life, for the sin of stealing Sage Vasishta’s rare cow, Nandini, they were cursed to be born on earth. On appealing, seven of them were permitted to leave their physical bodies soon after birth and return to heaven. However, the eighth member among them, who had arranged the whole expedition to satisfy the whims of his wife, and who had actually stolen the cow—the one I am holding now—is to continue his existence on earth as a man of brilliant accomplishments, but condemned to a life of celibacy."

After these explanations Ganga said, I’ll take this child with me now, but restore him to you later.

His desperate questions, Oh, when? Where? were ignored as she vanished with the child into the