Krishna and Sanjaya - The Gift of Divine Vision

Sanjaya bowed before Krishna, uncertain why he had been summoned. He was a charioteer's son, a court messenger—no one of importance in a world of kings and warriors.

Krishna: "You know why you're here,"

Krishna said.

Sanjaya: "I don't, Lord. I am no one."

Krishna: "You are the king's eyes. You have been his eyes for decades. Now I will make you more."

Sanjaya's confusion deepened.

Sanjaya: "More?"

Krishna: "Tomorrow, the war begins. Dhritarashtra will not ride to battle—he is blind and old. But he will want to know. Every victory, every death, every moment. He will need someone to see for him."

Sanjaya: "I can report—"

Krishna: "Reports are delayed. Incomplete. Filtered through messengers who have their own fears and biases. I offer you something else. I can give you divine vision. The ability to see the entire battlefield at once, to hear every conversation, to witness the war as the gods witness it."

Sanjaya's heart raced.

Sanjaya: "That's... an incredible gift."

Krishna: "It's a terrible burden. Think carefully before accepting."

Sanjaya: "A burden? To see like the gods?"

Krishna: "To see everything means seeing suffering you cannot prevent. It means watching men you've known since childhood die, knowing you cannot warn them. It means hearing final words never meant for other ears. It means carrying the weight of complete knowledge in a situation where you have no power to act."

Sanjaya: "But I would be helping the king—"

Krishna: "You would be destroying the king's peace. Every report you give will shatter him further. He loves his sons—even the wicked ones. You will describe their deaths in detail only possible through divine sight. You will see his heart break a hundred times."

Sanjaya: "Then why offer this to me?"

Krishna: "Because the truth must be told. Because someone must remember exactly what happened, not the legends that will grow after. Because you are the only one who can bear this burden without breaking."

Sanjaya: "How do you know I won't break?"

Krishna: "Because you have spent your life serving a man you disagree with. You've watched Dhritarashtra make terrible decisions, counseled against them, been ignored, and stayed anyway. You know how to witness folly without participating in it. That's rare."

Sanjaya was silent for a long moment.

Sanjaya: "If I refuse?"

Krishna: "Then someone else will describe the war. Incompletely. Inaccurately. The story that survives will be half-truth. In a thousand years, no one will know what really happened."

Sanjaya: "And if I accept?"

Krishna: "Then everything will be remembered. The glory and the horror. The dharma and the adharma. Nothing hidden. Nothing polished. The Mahabharata will exist because you chose to see it."

Sanjaya: "That's a heavy responsibility."

Krishna: "All real responsibilities are heavy. Light burdens are not worth carrying. You don't have to decide now. Sleep on it. But know this: the vision, once given, cannot be taken back. You will see the whole war. You cannot close your eyes once they're opened."

Sanjaya: "Will I see... you? What you really are?"

Krishna: "You will see what Arjuna sees. When he sees my cosmic form, you will see it too. It will change you. Probably shatter some of what you thought you knew. Still interested?"

Sanjaya thought of Dhritarashtra—the blind king he had served for thirty years. The king who had made endless mistakes but whom Sanjaya could not abandon. If someone must report this war, let it be someone who loves the man he's destroying.

Sanjaya: "I accept."

Krishna placed his hand on Sanjaya's forehead. For a moment, the world exploded into infinite perspectives—every angle at once, every sound simultaneous, every life a thread in an incomprehensible tapestry.

Then it settled into something bearable. Something that could be reported.

Krishna: "Go back to the king, Tomorrow, the story begins. Remember every word. You are the only reason it will survive."

Sanjaya bowed, already feeling the weight of what he would witness.

Sanjaya: "Lord, one question."

Krishna: "Ask."

Sanjaya: "When I describe your teachings to Arjuna—the Bhagavad Gita—will anyone believe a charioteer's son could remember such words?"

Krishna: "They will believe because the words will ring true. And because in the end, truth matters more than the messenger's status. You may be a charioteer's son, Sanjaya. But you're about to become the most important witness in history."