Do you know how to write?
No. Why?
I've composed a great poem,
I've composed it all, but nothing is written.
I need someone to write down what I know.
What's your name?
Vyasa.
What's your poem about?
It's about you.
- Me? - Yes.
It's the story of your race, how your ancestors were born,
how they grew up, how a vast war arose.
It's the poetical history of mankind.
If you listen carefully,
at the end you'll be someone else.
Ganesha! Welcome!
Rumour has it you were looking for a scribe for the poetical history of mankind.
I'm at your service.
- You're really Ganesha? - Yes.
Ganesha in person.
I'm ready. You can begin.
Come and sit down.
There's something ...secret about the beginning.
I don't know how to start.
May I offer a suggestion?
You're most welcome.
As you claim to be the author of the poem,
why don't you begin with yourself?
Right!
A king hunting in a forest fell asleep.
He dreamed of his wife,
and there was a joyful explosion of sperm.
Very good start.
When the king awoke and saw the sperm on a leaf,
he called a falcon and said: "Take my sperm quickly to the queen!".
But the falcon was attacked by another falcon.
The sperm fell into a river.
A fish swallowed it. A few months later,
a fisherman caught the fish,
cut it open and found in its stomach
a tiny little girl
- he called Satyavati. - Satyavati...
She grew up, she became very beautiful
but unfortunately she smelled most dreadfully of fish.
This made her very sad, no one would come near her.
But one day,
a wandering hermit saw her and said:
"I like you. Let's make love here, right away,
"and I promise to turn your dreadful stench
"into a most delicious odour."
She cried: "Now? Here? I can't!"
So the hermit drew a thick mist
across the river and the fields.
She opened herself to him
and as she did so, she became fragrant,
irresistible.
They had a son?
Yes. I am that son. Vyasa.
Keep going, son of the mist.
You haven't started yet. What happened at the beginning?
It was a gold age.
There was no war, no misery.
Men were close to the gods.
There was a prince called Bhishma,
a perfect prince.
His mind was clear, his body strong...
...his heart noble.
But he couldn't be king.
Why?
Because it was impossible for him to marry, to have children.
Why?
Because his father had cast his eyes on Satyavati...
...and he burnt with passion for her.
Satyavati, your mother?
Yes, my mother.
Your mother is playing a part in your story?
Any objection?
No, no objections at all. Did she marry Bhishma's father?
Satyavati refused to marry, unless her sons could be king.
So Bhishma sacrificed himself for his father's happiness,
to avoid all family conflicts.
He swore the oath of absolute renunciation.
I abjure forever the love of women.
He said that?
He said just that, in all solemnity.
I abjure forever the love of women.
And the gods applauded his act.
In fact, they were so pleased with Bhishma
that they gave him the power to choose the time of his death.
Is it possible?
It was possible
in those days.
So Satyavati had another child?
Yes, but he was a poor weakling.
But you know, in the older days, if a king wanted to get married
he had to win a wife in a tournament,
but this young king's far too feeble to even take part
so Bhishma fought in his place.
He swept everyone off the field
and came back with three wives instead of one.
The youngest was crying.
Amba, why these tears?
Before you won me at the tournament
I had already chosen a husband in secret.
He knows that, and he loves me.
It's king Salwa.
How can you, who so revere fidelity,
how can you marry me to your half brother,
when I'm already
bound by love to another man?
Salwa's waiting for me.
Let me join him.
What you say is true, Amba.
You can go.
It's me, Amba.
So Bhishma let you go!
Yes.
Go back to him, Amba. I don't want you anymore.
What are you saying?
He got his prize,
you're soiled.
I couldn't for anything in the world let someone else's woman
penetrate into my palace.
But I'm not his,
he's never touched me,
nor grazed me with the back of his hand.
He's not even wanted me.
Salwa, I'm a virgin.
My eyes know only you.
Please, leave!
I can't. Where could I go?
I repeat: I don't want you anymore.
Bhishma frightens me and you are his prize.
You no longer exist. Go away.
Did the king marry the two other princesses?
Yes, but he died on his wedding night.
So there were no children.
Naturally.
But without children this story can't go on.
Precisely.
So the poetical history of mankind is already over.
No. My mother found the solution.
It was up to me to do the necessary.
Why did you close your eyes?
So as not to see me?
You will have a son.
He will be called Dhritharashtra.
But as you closed your eyes on seeing me
he will be born blind.
- A blind son? - Yes.
But a king cannot be blind!
What happened with the second princess?
Why is your colour draining away?
Am I so loathsome?
You too will have a son,
but he will be white as milk
and he will be known
as Pandu the pale.
Bhishma! Bhishma!
Save me.
I've been rejected by the man I love,
and you are the cause of my misery.
You can't abandon me now.
You won me, I'm your wife. Marry me.
You know I can't marry you, Amba.
No women can come into my life.
As Salwa has rejected you,
you are free. Go back to your father.
No, I'm not free, and I refuse to go back to my father,
who bartered me like an animal.
Listen, hear what I'll do.
I will walk straight ahead,
in ripped clothes, begging my way
and I will live with one thought, only one,
a thought like a blade:
how to find someone to fight you to your death.
No one can kill me. It's impossible.
I will do so all the same.
I too pronounce a vow.
In one of the worlds I will find your executioner.
There's now on this earth a woman who'll always think of you.
Never forget me, Bhishma.
I am your death.
Pandu the pale
and his brother Dhritharashtra.
Who became king?
Pandu, because his brother was blind.
You see this woman?
Yes.
Her name is Kunti.
She doesn't know it, but she's carrying the fate of the earth in her belly.
Her children will be glorious.
And without them, you wouldn't be here.
Why is she looking so persistently at the sun?
It's a secret.
King Pandu married Kunti,
and he took another wife as well, called Madri.
No sooner married, king Pandu went hunting.
Who could have imagined
that a simple hunt could seal the fate of the world?
Who are you?
I had taken the form of a gazelle to join my lover.
How could you kill us?
You have not respected the joys of love.
Pitiless man, I'll show you no pity!
I curse you! If one day
you take one of your wives in your arms,
at that moment you will die,
as I do now.
I'm cursed.
I must vanish without a trace into the mountains.
I will live without anger, without fear,
far from the need to kill.
Dhritharashtra, my brother,
you are king.
And Madri?
And me?
I have nothing to offer you.
We only want poverty and solitude
until we die.
So they left the palace,
Pandu, followed by his two faithful, loving wives,
Kunti
and Madri.
They walked for many days,
until they came to the furthest reaches of the Himalayas,
the roof of the world.
There, in the brutal cold,
they made their new home.
But the shadow of the gazelle's curse darkened their lives.
They knew how deeply Pandu longed for children,
and they knew also
that if he ever made love to one of his wives
he would die.
Sadly, he accepted the inevitable.
This he thought was his destiny.
How wrong we can be!
For Kunti held in her heart
an ancient secret.
When Kunti was very young,
a hermit gave her a magic formula
as a reward for serving him well.
With this mantra, she could evoke any god she chose.
Kunti, I'm the sun.
You sent for me, and I'm here.
I am going to be your lover and I'll give you a child.
I can reassure you, your virginity will remain intact.
Abandon all your fears, and come into my arms.
Instantly they had a son, a radiant son.
But Kunti was afraid,
she hid her fault.
She put the child in a basket
and left him to a river's swim.
A chariot driver found him and brought him up.
Karna was a magnificent child
who grew up to be a divinely gifted man.
But in his heart there was a bitter shadow.
He didn't know who he was.
Pandu,
I have a confession to make.
I possess a magic power, a mantra.
What power does this mantra give you?
The power to call down a god at will.
And to have a child by him?
Yes.
How can you be so sure?
I am sure.
Don't hesitate! Quick, say your mantra!
Which god should I call down first?
Evoke Dharma!
Beyond him, all thought must stop.
This is Yudhishthira,
our first born,
son of Dharma,
born to be king.
I beseech you,
give me another child.
Evoke Vayu, god of the wind.
He is Bhima,
son of the wind, strong as thunder.
Now I call on Indra,
king of gods.
He's Arjuna,
the perfect warrior, born to conquer.
Kunti, lend me your mantra so that I can have children too.
Madri, evoke the Aswins,
the twin gods with golden eyes.
Here are our two sons,
Nakula and Sahadeva,
as inseparable as patience and wisdom.
Five sons, descended from the gods.
They are the five sons of Pandu, the Pandavas.
We'll never leave them,
they are the heart of my poem.
And I have the same blood?
I come from the gods?
That's what the story tells.
There was a beautiful princess from the north, called Gandhari.
She'd set out on a long journey to the blind king's city.
All she knew was that her marriage had been prepared.
While waiting for the wedding, she lived in seclusion.
Each day her servant visited the city
and told her of its thousand wonders.
Princess...
What's the matter?
I saw your future husband.
Is he handsome? Strong?
Yes, he's strong. Very strong.
Then why are you crying?
Princess,
you've been betrayed.
Dhritharashtra is blind,
born blind.
That's impossible. A king cannot be blind.
I asked an old guard:
his eyes are dead.
If he's blind, he could only reign over the night,
amidst the cries of the diseased people.
What's the use of my paint,
of my dresses, if my husband will never see me?
Why my hair?
Why my flesh...
...and my eyes?
Give me my veil.
What are you looking at?
At you.
You are my last image in this world.
What are you doing?
I'm putting a veil on my eyes.
I'm tying it firmly.
I will never take it off.
Give me your hand,
lead me to my husband.
Now I can never reproach him
his misfortune.
Soon, Gandhari felt life in her womb,
but two years went by, her belly was hard,
nothing stirred.
Gandhari, Kunti has just given birth to a son.
His name is Yudhishthira.
The people say he will be king.
Get an iron bar.
What?
Obey me! Get an iron bar.
Strike me on the belly!
Do what I tell you!
Harder!
Harder still!
Again! Strike!
Go on! Again! Strike!
You're delivering me!
What has just come out of my womb?
A ball of flesh.
It's crying? It moves?
No, it's cold and hard
like metal.
Throw the ball into a well, and leave me alone.
No! Cut the ball into a hundred pieces,
put them into a hundred earthenware jars,
sprinkle them with fresh water.
Out of them, will come a hundred sons.
The first to be born was called Duryodhana.
Bhishma, what are these sounds?
Winds, animals, angry birds of prey,
and the screams of your son.
What do these omens mean?
They say Duryodhana comes to destroy.
If you wish to preserve your race,
sacrifice him.
Even if he howls,
even if he brings with him hatred and terror,
no one will kill my first born child without killing me myself.
Madri, the birds chuckle,
the insects tremble with joy, the flowers open...
It's the first day of spring,
and the sun streams through your dress.
Pandu, don't touch me.
- If you love me, you die! - I know...
But when I look at you, I prefer love to life.
Not a word!
Don't tempt death!
Death is seducing you. Keep away.
There is no risk for you.
Lie down.
No. You'll need to take me by force!
Kunti!
I wanted to save him,
but his destiny carried him away.
You are happier than I am,
because you have seen his face glow with desire.
I will follow him to the other flow.
No.
As it's in my arms that he breathed his last breath,
I will die.
I give you my sons.
They no longer have a father in this world.
They will be like my sons.
They will share everything.
Burn my body along with the king.
Come.
Help me to die.
Ganesha, you're writing everything?
I'm writing everything and I understand everything.
Now we skip.
Twenty years?
- Twenty years. - Simple.
So your heroes have now grown up...
Exactly.
One day, a stranger walked into the blind king's palace,
where Bhishma was trying to educate all the cousins together.
Bhishma!
- Bhima! Put down that tree! - No!
Who are you?
I am the new teacher.
- What's your name? - Who has sent you?
My name is Drona.
No one has sent me.
I am here for your education.
Are you really Drona?
Yes.
I've heard much of you.
Bhishma!
Is it true that you know all the possible forms of war?
As well as you, Bhishma.
And you also know sacred weapons?
Yes, I know them too.
I'm happy you have come to our city.
These are the sons of Pandu,
and the sons of Dhritharashtra,
the Kauravas and the Pandavas.
At the death of Pandu
I decided to raise them together,
but since childhood everything tears them apart.
So I see.
Duryodhana and all his brothers want to kill us!
No! Bhima tries to strangle us day after day!
Duryodhana wants the kingdom! He wants to destroy us!
Silence!
When do you begin?
I begin.
On top of this wall,
I've placed a vulture
made of straw and rags.
Yudhishthira, aim!
What do you see?
I see the vulture.
Do you see the wall?
Yes, I see the wall.
I see my bow and the arrow, I see my arm...
Back to your place!
Nakula, come here.
You too, Bhima.
You too, Duryodhana.
Aim at the bird.
What do you see?
I see the bird, the sky...
My hand...
I see the bird, I see my bow, I see the top of the wall...
I see a cloud in the sky...
Back! All of you!
Arjuna! Aim too!
Aim!
What do you see?
The vulture.
Describe the vulture.
I can't.
Why?
I can only see its eye.
Raise your arrow!
I'll make you the finest archer in the world.
But...
...I need you to make a promise.
If one day
destiny places us face to face,
you must fight me,
and you must fight to kill!
Yes, I promise.
Who's this?
Wait, you'll see.
Drona, you are my master. I know it.
My name is Ekalavya.
I come from the other side of the world to receive your teaching.
Take me in your school.
No.
Why? Like you, Drona,
I can give up riches and pleasure.
I only wish to learn.
I have enough pupils. Go away.
Thus rejected, the other, lessened, withdrew to the depths of a wood,
and there, alone, he moulded out of the earth
a living likeness of Drona.
Each day devotedly he worshipped his idol,
and trained himself under its gaze.
Watched over by the statue,
he acquired the most astonishing skills.
Drona, you haven't kept your promise!
In what way?
You promised I would be the best,
none of your pupils would be my rival.
Ekalavya has planted seven arrows
in the jaws of a barking dog,
and Ekalavya says he's your pupil.
Master, I kiss the earth before you.
I'm your pupil. Your visit brings me unexpected joy.
If you are my pupil,
you must pay me for my lessons.
Ask what you wish.
I owe you everything.
Give me the thumb of your right hand.
Here it is.
Why this sight of cruelty?
Because the earth has lost its youth,
it's gone by like a happy dream.
Now, each day
brings us closer to destruction, to barrenness.
In the palace,
the young men only thought of war.
As Arjuna showed his extraordinary skills,
his cousins watched with growing jealousy...
...and fear.
Dhritharashtra, he's incomparable!
Even his thoughts are arrows!
Son of Kunti!
Who is it?
A stranger.
Son of Kunti,
I can do all that you have done,
as well as you. Even better.
Watch.
I hit it in the left eye.
Dushassana!
What's your name?
Karna.
Welcome. Come into my arms!
You are here, but you haven't been invited. You speak...
...but you have not been addressed.
Isn't this place of arms open to all?
That is the custom.
Arjuna, wherever you look,
I will always be ahead.
Prepare yourself. We are going to fight.
Why are you waiting?
I'm ready.
Arjuna comes from a Ksatriya family.
He is of royal birth, and he...
...cannot fight an inferior person.
Tell us your father's name!
At least tell us your mother's name, and I'll let you fight.
You don't reply.
Karna...
Are you ashamed of your mother, or don't you know her?
I don't know her.
What is your origin?
I'm called the driver's son.
Withdraw. This is not your place.
Karna!
If you have to be a prince to fight, I'll consecrate you here.
Come.
I give you the land of Anga.
I name you king.
What can I give you in exchange?
- Your friendship. - It's yours,
forever, truly.
Now the fight can begin.
The son of a driver!
Sweet heaven...
Give him a whip, and the shovel for the shit!
Bhima, quiet or I'll tear out your tongue!
They set a driver's son on the throne of Anga!
Shut your mouth and don't speak of birth!
Birth is obscure,
and men are like rivers whose origins are often unknown. Drona...
I look at Karna and I'm not mistaken.
I see his power hedged with mystery,
and he'll forever be my friend.
The setting sun seems to whisper it's true.
Come, Karna.
The day is over.
Arjuna, you have rejected me.
Inevitably, one day we will fight
and I will kill you.
Mother, guess what I've won!
You must share it with your brothers.
But it's a woman!
I won her in a tournament.
All the princes of the world wanted her, but I won.
What did I say?
You said "You must share it with your brothers".
I can't take back my word.
You must do as I say.
What's her name?
Draupadi.
You must do as I say.
You must share Draupadi between you,
but she mustn't suffer in any way.
There is only one question:
do you all love Draupadi?
Yes, I already feel I love her.
I love her, deeply.
- So do I. - So do I.
Yes, I love her too.
All of a sudden, love has appeared among us
like a light.
We will marry her.
All the five of us.
Yes. This is how it should be.
Draupadi will have five husbands.
But if she likes one of us more than another?
If there is one she despises?
If jealousy tears us apart?
What I've said is said.
Destiny slipped into my words without warning.
Draupadi must be your wife,
and she can be.
Vyasa,
why did my family murder one another?
Because they forgot the essential.
And nothing could save them?
Listen to me...
The worlds swarm on an infinity of creatures,
those we see... ...those we'll never see.
Naga snakes who live in the depths of the earth,
Rakshasas, monsters of the forests of the night
who live off human flesh.
Gandhavas, frail creatures
who fly between us and the sky.
Apasaras, Danavas,
Yakshas,
and the long, glittering chain of gods
who live like all beings in the shadow of death.
Three gods rule the universe,
three, who are also one:
Brahma, the creator,
Shiva, the destroyer,
always present when History ends...
The third is Vishnu,
who's quite the reverse.
It's he who maintains the worlds.
It's he who makes them endure.
When chaos threatens, as it does now,
Vishnu takes on a human form
and descends among us to play his role.
Some hint that he might have come down as Krishna.
Is it true?
One can never be sure.
I'm going to see Krishna?
It's his flute I hear.
He's on his way?
Perhaps he's already here.
In what form?
In the form of a man.
Watch carefully.
His action is subtle, mysteriously clear.
At the same instant, they say he can be everywhere.
Here, there, he's water...
...the trembling of a leaf.
He's you. He's fire,
he's the heart of all that's invisible.
He's you as well?
Naturally.
Krishna, why have you sent for us?
I heard the earth complain.
What did she say?
She said: Men have become arrogant,
every day they give me fresh wounds,
there are more and more of them.
They are violent, driven by thoughts of conquest.
Foolish men trample me. I shudder...
...and I ask myself, what will they do next?
What can save the earth?
I sent men with huge ears into the crowd.
This is what they say:
The people want a king who will be calm and just,
a legitimate king.
Am I this king?
Who else?
Even if this title is mine,
if I claim it,
my uncle and my cousins will feel threatened,
they will plunge us into war.
How can you call me a legitimate king if I condemn the earth
to a horrifying death?
Dhritharashtra calls us his sons,
he should be proud to see one of his sons on the highest throne.
I'm too unprepared.
I have no desire for the crown.
Destruction never approaches weapon in hand.
Comes slyly on tiptoe,
making you see bad in good and good in bad.
Don't deceive yourself.
You are the son of Dharma.
I am your eyes, and your hand.
I'm your neck, and shoulders.
We are your arms and legs.
Resist what resists in you.
Become yourself.
Our youth is over.
We will go to the king.
Why did you agree to see them?
Do you want to give them a land of their own?
Cut into pieces what should remain one?
Why treat the Pandavas as your sons when they are our enemies?
Our natural enemies.
I am guided by Bhishma.
Bhishma has always been on their side.
But how could you have noticed it,
you, who see nothing?
What should I do?
Tell me.
Regain your calm.
They are here.
My sons, for you are my sons,
welcome to you all.
We come to you as our father.
Greetings, Krishna. I know you've come with them.
Greetings, Dhritharashtra.
We all respect your wisdom.
So that peace can always shine on our family,
I'm giving away part of my kingdom.
I give you the land of Khandava-Prashta.
What!
Those stinking bogs?
Those gruesome forests?
Silence, Bhima.
I accept,
and I thank you.
Why take charity like a beggar?
Yudhishthira, what demon has invaded your mind?
Calm down.
Why do you go over at their feet?
They've only one thought: throw us out of the kingdom
where our rights are as good as theirs.
And you, you say: "Thank you, I touch your feet,
"I'm most grateful".
What do you put above justice?
Above our destiny? What?
- Keep calm. - No! No!
Go. Dry up the mashes,
plough the harsh earth that awaits you,
build a dazzling city,
and throw the universe to it.
We accept and take our leave.
Father, you thought you have made peace...
...You have lost a war.
We must surprise Bhima and destroy him.
We must separate them from Krishna by cunning.
They have one wife for five.
Call in experts in erotics and ask them how to sow jealousy.
Don't despise them Dushassana.
Nothing can separate them from Krishna.
No amount of cunning can bring them down.
If you want to destroy them, accept so before attack them head on!
I'm your friend.
Why are you afraid?
Bhishma...
- Have I done well? - Yes.
The sons of my brother Pandu
are my sons.
But in your heart, you have a secret preference.
So have you, Gandhari.
And when one prefers one's own children
to the children of others, war is near.
Bhishma,
in the event of war,
which side will you take?
I will unfortunately be loyal to you.
And you, Drona?
I am at your service.
Everything I saw there drives me mad.
Their palace is incomparable.
It was built for them by Maya, the supreme architect.
It's a palace of illusions,
where thoughts become real.
Arjuna said to me:
Look at the crystal walls,
those tricks of sunlight and golden beams.
And I saw them.
Suddenly I ran into an invisible wall.
Arjuna laughed and said:
That's Maya's masterpiece.
You think of a wall, and the wall is there.
I go farther. Bhima shouts:
Watch out! There's a pool in front of you!
A pool? I don't see any pool, yet my feet are wet.
I run, I open a door... There's no door.
I crash into a wall.
I hurt myself and Draupadi cries out:
He's blind! Blind father, blind son!
Bhima jeered me.
Draupadi laughed.
Her laugh cut me to the heart.
Who is it?
It's Shakuni, your brother.
What are you doing here?
I've come to see my nephews.
They are bitter, and restless.
Duryodhana, my eldest son, doesn't eat, doesn't sleep.
Why?
Because I have see all the kings of the earth surround Yudhishthira,
I have seen his people happy,
even the aged, even the children,
Yudhishthira respected, loved...
While I, I love nothing, I am nothing.
There is a way to ruin Yudhishthira,
and I know it.
What are you hatching?
Tell me your way.
Yudhishthira has one weakness:
he loves gambling.
Double weakness, because he loves gambling
and he doesn't know how to play.
Challenge him to a game of dice.
He won't be able to refuse, but I'm here
and I know every throw, every dangerous combination.
No one can beat me.
Let me play in your place, my nephew, and I will win.
- We must play high. - We'll play high.
Dhritharashtra, I greet you!
Shakuni? Welcome. What do you want?
To distract your son.
Let us arrange a game of dice and invite Yudhishthira.
What do you intend to stake?
Whatever he proposes.
Gandhari, what do you think of the game of dice?
Don't touch the game, my son.
You'll find nothing but love, in this palace.
You are the eldest, you rule over everyone.
What more do you want?
A man says: I have enough to eat and wear,
I need nothing more. Shame!
He says: I don't know anger.
Shame!
No! I am like a dried-up stream,
like a wooden elephant! All because my father was born blind,
because one does not give a throne to a blind man.
Calm yourself. Send for your wives.
But I want to be discontented!
Dissatisfied!
A man's body grows from birth and everyone is delighted.
In the same way his desire grows,
his desire for power.
I have doubts about myself.
Sometimes, I even question my value.
I must resolve these doubts.
You have a shadow in your mind,
it sweeps you away with incredible force...
Why? Why refuse a simple game of dice?
The gods created the world as a game...
Insects play with flowers,
the stars dance their secret patterns in the sky...
Why, Dhritharashtra, must you always frown on pleasure?
A game of dice has been prepared.
I know. What do you want?
Bhishma, here your authority is not disputed.
If I come like a shadow to speak with you...
...it is to ask a favour.
Whatever you see in the course of the game,
whatever you hear, you must not interrupt the match.
In no circumstances?
In no circumstances.
Wouldn't it be better to avoid the worst?
What is "the worst"?
Destruction.
Destruction of what?
Of the way of truth,
of the order of the world...
...destruction of Dharma. That is the worst.
And if your race had to be destroyed
so as to save Dharma?
Would you be prepared to sacrifice your race?
What is your answer?
That question is with me always,
sharpening my thoughts and destroying my sleep...
...making my heart pound all night long.
It is why I ask you: do not intervene.
Let each one go to his limit.
Shakuni, it's you who are going to play?
Yes, I'll play for my nephew.
You spend your life playing.
People have seen you perform unbelievable tricks,
but cheating is a crime.
The powerful player who knows how to play
and who ponders calmly, is not worried by cheating.
Here there is no crime,
only the game, nothing but the game.
A seasoned warrior fights against beginners,
you call that cheating?
Science is not cheating.
You always enter a game with the wish to win,
that's how life is.
No cheat can ever defeat a master.
Withdraw from the match if you are afraid.
You know I cannot refuse to play once I'm challenged.
I have a gold necklace and pearls without equal,
churned in the vortex of the ocean.
I play them against you.
I have won.
I have gold and jewels locked in four hundred coffins.
I have gold and jewels. That's not what I want.
I have a hundred thousand female slaves,
young, beautiful, trained in sixty-four skills.
I have won.
Sweet fingered Shakuni,
I have as many male slaves,
obedient, adroit, dressed in the finest silk.
I have won.
I have sixteen thousand chariots with golden shafts.
I have won.
My cows, my bulls, my goats, my elephants.
I have won.
My forests!
I've won.
My capital.
I've won.
- My lands! - I have won!
- My kingdom! All that I possess! - Yudhishthira!
Bhishma! Stop the match.
You say nothing?
Yudhishthira, do you wish to stop the game?
No. Let's proceed.
I have won. I won everything!
Have you still something left?
I still have my brothers Nakula and Sahadeva,
the twins with golden eyes, sons of Madri.
They are beyond all value.
I play them against you.
I have won.
Madri's sons are ours.
I still have Arjuna,
he who can never lose,
Krishna's friend.
When he plucks the chord of his bow Ghandiva,
every living creature trembles.
He's as precious to me as my life.
I now play him against you.
I have won.
I still have Bhima.
Built like a lion, the mightiest of men.
He is strength itself.
I play him against you.
I have won!
Have you still something left?
You've all my brothers, I remained alone.
I stake myself,
Yudhishthira.
I play myself.
I have won.
And nothing is worse than to lose oneself,
for when one loses everything
freedom is the only wealth that remains.
But you have one last possession
- and you forget it. - What?
You possess a wife,
she's the only treasure I have not won.
Stake Draupadi, and win back everything thanks to her.
She's a woman who's neither too short nor too tall,
neither pale nor dark,
she's the earth's most perfect creation,
and the pool of all men's desire.
I play her against you.
Draupadi...
What do you want?
You're requested to come to the palace.
Who requests me? Why?
Because Yudhishthira has lost you.
What do you mean, he has lost me?
He has lost you at dice.
Had he nothing else to play?
He played all he had, and lost it all.
He even played and lost himself.
- He lost himself? - That's what I say.
Before losing me, or after?
Before losing you.
Return to the hall and ask him this:
Is it true that you lost yourself first, before losing me?
And if you yourself were lost, had you the right to play me?
You were staked and lost. You're ours. Come!
Allow me to dress.
I've only one robe and it is stained in blood.
I'm in my period, don't show me in this state to the kings.
Who cares? We have won you at dice.
You are now no more than a slave. Enough! Come!
Here is the new servant.
There is not a breath of life in Bhishma and Drona?
They see this shame and they do nothing!
Yudhishthira, did you have the right to lose me?
If you lost yourself first before playing me, I was no longer yours!
Can one belong to someone who has lost himself?
Bhishma, answer me!
I'm troubled. The question is obscure.
When Yudhishthira made this wager
he had already lost himself,
so he could not play his wife.
Error.
She was designated by name and well and truly won.
Draupadi satisfies five men. She's clearly public property.
Whether he lost her before or after,
I don't see the difference. Draupadi has been won.
I regret to have to say it, but it is so.
Everything has been won.
Their clothes. Down to the last clasp.
And Draupadi as well.
We want to see her naked.
Dushassana, take off her robe.
Listen to what I say!
When the battle comes,
I will smash Dushassana's chest
and I'll drink his blood. I swear I will!
I will eat his guts, and I'll drink his blood!
Don't bellow. You only frighten the flies.
Krishna...
- Krishna... - Silence...
Watch!
A miracle is taking place under our eyes.
It's a prodigy of Krishna.
A prodigy?
Where is your prodigy?
She's wearing layers and layers of cloth.
Stop, Dushassana. Let her go.
Take her away, put her with the slaves. Let her scrape the dishes!
Let me go. Where is Dharma?
I see nothing clearly.
Draupadi, your new masters are here.
- Choose a new husband. - Karna!
And you hold your tongue. You don't own yourself anymore.
You haven't even the right to be angry.
Draupadi, you want another man.
Look at my thigh.
Duryodhana, Dushassana and all your brothers...
and you Karna, and you also Shakuni, you are lost.
A savage death will drag you to the ground.
Dushassana, my hair will stay unbound till your death.
I will wash my hair in your blood.
And you, Duryodhana, death will strike you in the thigh.
A jackal cried.
Yes, near the temple.
Draupadi...
Choose a favour. Whatever you wish, and I will grant it.
What do you choose?
That Yudhishthira be free.
Yes, he is free. But you deserve a second favour. Choose.
That Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva be free.
They are free. But you deserve a third favour. Choose.
I don't want a third favour.
Why?
Because greed devours all beings and is Dharma's ruin.
I refuse greed. Save my husbands.
You ask nothing for yourself?
I want nothing. Above all no favour.
Her husbands were drowning...
Draupadi is the raft that saves them.
Have no fear, Yudhishthira.
Go towards happiness,
Take back your clothes and leave in freedom.
Don't let them go, otherwise it's war.
We've humiliated Draupadi, they can never forgive us.
They want to recover everything, they are already preparing a massacre.
Call them back. Let's play a final round.
Father, call them back. They are marching towards our death.
Yes, call them back.
My son is right. Better a game than the war.
- One moment! - What do you want?
You're recalled for a final match. The whole is ready.
You hesitate...
What does this call of destiny conceal?
Leave the destiny alone.
We need to make ourselves strong, to recover our possessions...
Come.
You said the whole is ready?
Yes, for the final round.
With one throw you can win back your wealth, your kingdom
and more besides. With one throw.
Leave this place.
Yudhishthira you're in a dream, it leads to darkness.
Come with us.
- No, I must play. - Why?
I can't refuse my rivals a last chance of salvation.
What are you saying?
Shakuni condemns to death those who asked him to cheat.
I repeat: I can't deny them a last chance of salvation.
I follow you.
We will play one single throw. Listen carefully...
If we lose,
we will spend twelve years in exile,
clothed in rags, and the thirteenth year in an unknown place,
hidden and disguised.
If during the course of the thirteenth year we are discovered,
we will spend a further twelve years in exile.
If you lose, the exile is yours.
At the end of the thirteenth year,
either you or we, will regain the kingdom.
Let's play.
All our treasure...
All our women, all our lands,
all our herds, against exile in the wilderness.
Let's play.
They have lost. The Pandavas!
They thought they were on top of the world, and now they are rejected and cast out.
Draupadi, choose a husband amongst us.
One day, I will remind you of your words
and I'll drink your blood, vile swine!
- The big beast, the fat cow! - Dushassana!
I will open your belly,
and Arjuna will kill Karna.
Yes, I will kill Karna.
I said so and I will do it.
I will always be ahead of you.
Don't forget...
Take your bow with you, and practise.
- I won't forget. - Each day,
I will think of your death.
Death? Karna, each of your thought, each breath
brings you nearer to death.
I made a vow. I'll say no more.
Starving, naked...
...what will you live of in the desert?
- Vyasa? - I'm here.
Describe their departure.
They walk barefoot. The whole city watches them in silence.
Yudhishthira walks ahead,
then comes Bhima, with staring eyes fixed on his two arms.
With each step he takes, Arjuna stirs up clouds of sand.
Sahadeva and Nakula are soiled with dust and mud
from head to foot.
Draupadi is last, her head bowed towards the ground.
Why? What do these attitudes mean?
Bhima is contracting his arms, the most powerful arms in the world.
In the grains of sand he scatters,
Arjuna sees a thousand arrows fly.
The twins hide their beauty,
so that no woman would be tempted to follow.
And Draupadi murmurs,
in her bloodstained robe:
"One day we will see widows,
"their children dead, their hair unbound,
"on the day of their period,
"honouring cold corpses with their cries."
I can't see them anymore.