Skip to main content

Ekalavya And Dronacharya



Long-era ago, In India lived a boy named Eklavya, son of a tribal chief in the forest of the kingdom Hastinapur. Eklavya was a brave and handsome boy who was loved by all. His father saw that something was troubling him. Many times he saw his son lost in deep thought and other boys used to play and hunt for pleasure.


One day the father asked his son, “Why are you so unhappy? Why don’t you play with your friends?”


“I want to be a Archer. I want to be a disciple of the great guru Dronacharya, the greatest tutor of Archery in Hastinapur. His Gurukul is a magical place where ordinary boys are turned into mighty warriors.”, He replied. “I know that we belong to the hunting tribe, but I want to be a warrior, father, not a mere hunter. So please allow me to leave home and become the disciple of Dronacharya.”, He added


His father knew it was not going to be easy for him but he didn't want to refuse the only wish of his son. So, father gave his blessings. Eklavya set on his way to reach part of the forest where Drona taught the princes of Hastinapur.


When the boy reached Drona’s gurukul and saw it consisted of several huts surrounded by trees and an archery yard. There he saw a man standing near a tree busy instructing a boy. Though Eklavya had never seen Drona before, he put his guess at work. He went near Drona and bowed. The sage was surprised to see a strange boy addressing him. Who are you? he asked.


“Dronacharya, I am Eklavya, son of the Tribal Chief in the western part of the forests of Hastinapura.” Eklavya replied. “Please accept me as your disciple and teach me the wonderful art of Archery.”


Drona sighed. “Eklavya… if you are a tribal hunter, you must be a Shudra, the lowest social community according to the Vedic Caste System. I am a Brahmin, the highest caste in the kingdom. I cannot teach a Shudra boy” he said.


The innocent tribal boy was deeply hurt by Drona’s refusal to teach him. “It’s not fair!” he thought miserably. “God has given knowledge to all, but man alone differentiates his kind.” He left the place with a broken heart But it could not shatter his ambition to learn Archery. He was still as determined to learn Archery.


“I may be a Shudra but does it make any difference?” thought he. “I am as strong and zealous as Drona’s princes and disciples. If I practice the art everyday, I can surely become an archer.”


Eklavya reached his own forests and took some mud from a nearby river. He made a statue of Dronacharya and selected a secluded clearing in the forests to place it. Eklavya did this because he faithfully believed that if he practiced before his Guru, he would become an able archer. Thus, though his Guru shunned him, he still held him in high esteem and thought of him as his Guru.


Day after day, he took his bow and arrow, worshiped the statue of Drona and started practice. In time faith, courage and perseverance transformed Eklavya the mere tribal hunter into Eklavya the extraordinary archer.


One day while Eklavya is practicing, he hears a dog barking. At first the boy ignored the dog, but continuous disturbance in his practice angered him. He stopped his practice and went towards the place where the dog was barking. Before the dog could shut up or get out of the way, Eklavya fired several arrows in rapid succession to fill the dog’s mouth without injuring it. As a result it roamed the forests with its mouth open.


As fate would have it, that day, Drona was instructing the prince about some finer points of archery by making them learn in the real-life condition of the open jungle. As they were busy practicing, they suddenly chanced upon the “stuffed” dog, and wondered who could have pulled off such a feat of archery. Drona was amazed too.” Such an excellent aim can only come from a mighty archer.” he exclaimed.


He told the Pandavas that if somebody was such a good archer then he surely needed to be met. The practice was stopped and together they b



Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

McDow Hole – Anatomy Of A Texas Ghost Story

  Spooky Texas legend of the McDow Hole, where ghost sightings of pioneer woman Jenny Papworth and her baby have long been reported.  Written by Bob Hopkins . I first heard the legendary tale of the Ghost of the McDow Hole in the fifteenth year of my youth. It was near Halloween in October 1975 when a friend related the tale of the ghost that haunts a creek bed in rural Erath County and naturally I believed every word of it in the twilight of an evening spent with friends telling ghost stories. I would again hear the tale over the years while living in North Central Texas. It wasn’t until my chance encounter of meeting an author of the legend in 2002 that my curiosity began to peak and like any good investigator I felt it my duty to dig deeper into the hundred year old tale of pioneer folklore to see how much of the story was true and how much was fabricated. I would discover many similarities in fact and fiction that I believed would leave any reader with the same curiosity that I fel
Post a Comment
Read more

Mama Coon Coon: A Louisiana Swamp Folktale

  Now I’ll just bet that none of you have ever heard the story of Mama Coon Coon and the blue waters of the bayou, have you? Well, we know the story, and I think we need to tell it to you right now. Once upon a time, the waters of the bayou were black – as black as ink. Now, even though these waters were black, they were still filled with lots and lots of fishes, shrimp and crab. And all of the fishermen would wake up early in the morning, long before the sun had even come above the horizon, and they would cast their nets down into the deep, black water. And what a wonderful sight it was at the end of the day to watch those fishermen pulling in their nets overflowing with all kinds of fishes, shrimp and crab. Dulac Louisiana Bayou by  Clem . Licensed under  CC BY-SA 2.0 . Now all the fishermen fished early in the morning, with the exception of one fisherman – or should I say fisherwoman. Her name was Mama Coon Coon. You see, that is the name the local village children gave her because
Post a Comment
Read more

Belle Boyd, Confederate Spy

  One warm spring day, I left my home in Washington, D.C. and took a long drive through the rolling, peaceful farm country in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley. I worked in the city as a tax accountant, but most of my co-workers didn’t know about my secret hobby – I was a Civil War collector. Ever since I was a child, I had collected old Civil War books, maps, clothing, and in later years, weapons. Now as a middle-aged man, my interest had grown to what some would call an obsession. Although it’s hard to believe today, this peaceful Virginia valley was the scene of some of the bloodiest battles of the war. Driving through this historic land not only satisfied my hunger for history, but calmed my nerves far away from the hustle and bustle of home. Some folks say that ghosts wander the earth in places where horrible deaths took place, their lives suddenly ripped away from them before they knew what happened. So it’s no wonder that so many Civil War ghost stories come from the Shenandoah Valle
Post a Comment
Read more