Chapter 96: The Lessons of Dharma
"Come, Yudhishthir," Rudra said, his voice gentle but firm. "Today, your lesson begins not with weapons or scriptures, but with truth."
They walked through the clean stone streets of Mahishmati. Traders opened their stalls, children ran with joyous laughter, and guards bowed respectfully as Rudra passed. Yudhishthir noticed the reverence in every eye.
Soon they reached a massive domed building with tall marble pillars and flags fluttering at the top.
"This is Nyayalay — the House of Justice," Rudra said. "Here, all matters of dispute and injustice are heard — whether of royals or commoners."
As they entered, Yudhishthir was surprised by the orderly calm of the hall. Citizens sat respectfully on either side of a central platform where a trial was taking place. A merchant stood on one side, his expensive garments now stained with sweat. Opposite him, a humble villager with tattered clothes kept his eyes low.
The proceedings were already underway. A young man — not noble in appearance, but steady and composed — sat at the judge's seat. He listened attentively as witnesses came forth. From all evidence and accounts presented, it seemed the villager had mistakenly accused the merchant of stealing from him.
The merchant stood tall and confident, saying, "Respected judge, as you've heard, no one has seen me take anything. I've always paid my dues, and this man here has no proof!"
The crowd murmured in agreement.
Yet, after a moment of contemplation, the judge raised his hand and announced, "After weighing all evidence and questioning both parties, this court finds the merchant guilty of deceit and theft. He is to compensate the villager with thrice the value of the lost grain and spend ten days serving in the community kitchens."
Gasps echoed through the chamber. The merchant stood frozen. Even Yudhishthir frowned in confusion.
As they exited the Nyayalay, Yudhishthir could not hold back his doubt.
"Gurudev," he began, "I apologize if this is improper. But the evidence clearly favored the merchant. Why then was he declared guilty?"
Rudra smiled, having anticipated the question. "Come, let's walk. I'll explain."
They walked down the stone path lined with carved murals depicting scenes of dharmic judgment from ancient times. Children played nearby, and birds flew overhead.
"The man who sat as judge," Rudra said, "is named Dayanand. He is of Shudra birth. But he graduated from Karmapeeth, where we test aptitude, not lineage. He awakened a rare Siddhi — the 'Drishti of Truth,' a subtle form of mind-reading, not absolute, but enough to sense the nature of intentions."
Yudhishthir's eyes widened.
"He sensed the merchant's guilt?"
"Yes," Rudra nodded. "The merchant rehearsed his truth well, planted fake witnesses, and used his wealth to create illusions of innocence. But his heart — ah, his heart whispered otherwise."
"And you appointed him judge?"
"I did," Rudra replied. "I tested Dayanand's character myself. His sense of right and wrong is unswayed by bias or bribes. Though of humble birth, his mind and heart are royal. I created this Nyayalay for such men — to protect those who have no voice."
Yudhishthir reflected on this silently.
As they continued walking, they approached a corridor where beautiful paintings adorned the walls. Images of cosmic battles, serene villages, gods, sages, and common folk performing daily duties in harmony.
"These are magnificent," Yudhishthir commented. "Every stroke feels alive."
"A Brahmin made them," Rudra said, smiling. "He never memorized the Vedas nor performed rituals. But when I saw his art, I asked him — 'Why don't you become a priest?' He replied, 'I find divinity in color and creation.' So I said — then that is your Dharma."
They entered the grand temple of Mahadev. As the scent of incense surrounded them, Rudra motioned for Yudhishthir to sit beside him on the steps.
"Tell me, Yudhishthir," Rudra began after a moment of silence, "Is Varna real Dharma?"
Yudhishthir looked at him quietly.
"You saw the judge. A Shudra. The painter. A Brahmin," Rudra continued. "Did their work reflect their caste or their soul?"
Yudhishthir lowered his gaze.
"You must learn this, Yudhishthir," Rudra said. "Varna was once a system of responsibility, not hierarchy. But over time, it became a tool of control — a way to hold one high and push another low."
Yudhishthir's voice trembled slightly. "Then what is Dharma, Gurudev? Have I misunderstood it? Am I a hypocrite who sees injustice yet lets tradition silence me?"
Rudra looked into his student's eyes and replied with a calm but intense voice.
"Dharma is not a book of rules. It is a mirror. One must look into it with honesty. A King's Dharma is not just in reading scriptures — it lies in protecting his people as a father protects his children. Would a true father educate one son and leave the other in darkness?"
Yudhishthir's mind stirred with conflicting thoughts.
"But... even Ram, Maryada Purushottam, abandoned Devi Sita for the sake of Praja's doubt. Was he... wrong?"
Rudra closed his eyes and replied, "He was a noble King. But nobility does not mean perfection. Had he seen his Praja as children, he might've scolded them for doubting their Queen, not sacrificed her."
He looked back at Yudhishthir and said, "True Dharma evolves with time. What was Dharma then may become Adharma today if followed blindly."
Yudhishthir was stunned. The very core of his beliefs trembled. But in that trembling, clarity began to form.
"You are not wrong in loving Dharma, Yudhishthir," Rudra said gently. "But you must now redefine it. With your own eyes. With your heart. Not from fear of tradition, but from love for truth."
The wind stirred the temple bells. The sun had reached its peak.
Rudra stood.
"You will become a King. A great one. But only if you become a father to your Praja first. Raise them not by caste, but by potential. Guide them not by punishment, but by justice. Do this, and your name will shine for ages."
Yudhishthir bowed low.
"Your words have opened my eyes, Gurudev. From this day, I vow to uphold Dharma not by tradition, but by truth."
Rudra placed a hand on his head, blessing him.
"Then rise, Dharma Putra. Let us begin your real training — not with weapons, but with wisdom."
And so began the awakening of a true King.
— To Be Continued —