Vidura Counsels Dhritarashtra to Stop the War

Vidura: "Brother, I beg you. One last time. Stop this madness."

Vidura stood before the blind king's throne, his voice cracking with emotion he usually controlled.

Dhritarashtra: "The dice have been cast. The war will happen."

Vidura: "The dice were loaded, brother. You know that. Shakuni cheated at every throw. The exile was unjust. The refusal of five villages was absurd. At every turn, you could have spoken—and you chose silence."

Dhritarashtra: "What would you have me do? Oppose my own son?"

Vidura: "Yes! That's exactly what a father does! A father opposes his son when his son is wrong. A father teaches. A father corrects. You've given Duryodhana everything except the only thing he needed—a word of no."

Dhritarashtra: "He wouldn't have listened."

Vidura: "Perhaps not. But you would have done your duty. Now you've done neither—neither stopped him nor taught him. Brother, I have served you faithfully for decades. I have given you counsel you ignored, warnings you dismissed, predictions that came true. Please, for once—listen to me."

Dhritarashtra: "I'm listening."

Vidura: "Call off the war. Give the Pandavas their five villages. Let them live in peace and Duryodhana keep the rest. They'll accept it—they don't want to fight."

Dhritarashtra: "And Duryodhana?"

Vidura: "Will rage. Will sulk. Will threaten. And then he'll realize he still has an empire and brothers who live. Isn't that better than graves?"

Dhritarashtra's blind eyes welled with tears.

Dhritarashtra: "You don't understand. You've never had children. You don't know what it's like to love someone so much that their happiness becomes more important than your wisdom."

Vidura: "I know what it's like to love you. To watch you destroy yourself for a son who wouldn't sacrifice a moment's pleasure for your peace. He doesn't love you, brother. Not the way you love him. He uses your love as a weapon against your judgment."

Dhritarashtra: "How dare you—"

Vidura: "Because someone must! Because if I don't say it, no one will! Duryodhana will bring you a kingdom of corpses. He'll give you victory over ashes. And when it's done—when all your nephews are dead, when all your sons are dead, when everything you touched has turned to dust—he still won't understand what he did wrong. Because you never taught him."

Dhritarashtra was silent for a long time.

Dhritarashtra: "Leave me,"

he finally said.

Vidura: "Brother—"

Dhritarashtra: "I said leave me! I know everything you've said is true. Every word. And I can't act on any of it. Because you're right—I love him more than I love wisdom. More than I love dharma. More than I love myself. I will let my son destroy us all because I cannot bear to see him unhappy."

Vidura: "Then you doom us all."

Dhritarashtra: "I know. I know, Vidura. I've always known. Now go. Let me sit with my weakness in peace."

Vidura left. He would not speak to his brother again until the war was over and the kingdom was ruins.

Some advice is perfect. And perfectly useless.

Because wisdom without will is just words.