Kingdom, Curse and Life
Pandu was an excellent archer. He became the successor to his kingdom and was corronated Emperor of Hastinapur. Pandu later conquered the territories of Dasarnas, Kashi, Anga, Vanga, Kalinga, Magadha, etc and thus re-established their superiority over all the kings and increasing his empire.
Pandu married Madri, daughter of the King of Madra, and Kunti, daughter of King Kuntibhoja of Vrishni. While hunting in a forest, (looking from a long distance, his vision partially obscured by plants and trees) Pandu mistook Rishi Kindama and his wife for deer and shot arrows at them, killing the conjugal couple. The dying sage placed a curse on Pandu. Since he had killed them in the midst of lovemaking, the curse was that were he to approach a woman with the intent of making love, he would die. Upset and seeking to repent his action, Pandu renounced his kingdom and lived as an ascetic with his wives.
Childless at the time, Maharaja Pandu left his kingdom in the command of his elder brother, the blind Dhritrashtra, who was then crowned as king of Hastinapura. When Pandu expressed to Kunti his despair at the prospect of dying childless, Kunti used the boons given to her by Sage Durvasa to bear three sons—Yudhishtira (by Lord Dharma), Bhima (by Lord Vayu), and Arjuna (by Lord Indra). Kunti also shared her boons with Madri, who bore Nakula and Sahadeva, twins from the physicians to the gods, the Ashwini Kumara twins. Thus the five Pandavas of Pandu were born.
Read more about this topic: Pandu
Famous quotes containing the words curse and/or life:
“Does Job fear God for nothing? Have you not put a fence around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. But stretch out your hand now, and touch all that he has, and he will curse you to your face.””
—Bible: Hebrew, Job 1:9-11.
Satan to God.
“There a captive sat in chains
Crooning ditties treasured well
From his Afric’s torrid plains.
Sole estate his sire bequeathed,—
Hapless sire to hapless son,—
Was the wailing song he breathed,
And his chain when life was done.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)