dharme cārthe ca kāme ca mokṣe ca bharatarṣabha
yad ihāsti tad anyatra yan nehāsti na tat kva cit
yad ihāsti tad anyatra yan nehāsti na tat kva cit
"In the realm of dharma, artha, kama, and moksha, (ethics, economic development, pleasure, and liberation), whatever is found in this epic may be found elsewhere, but what is not found here will be impossible to find anywhere else."
Mahābhārata, Adi Parva 56.33)
2.14: “Yudhiṣṭhira Will Be Captured”
Again the armies collided on the field of Kurukṣetra for the eleventh day of battle. Karṇa, coming fresh into the fight, carved a path of destruction through the Pāṇḍava forces. The Kaurava soldiers were delighted as they witnessed him causing havoc among their foes. “Surely the Pāṇḍavas will soon flee. Here is Karṇa, capable of crushing the celestial armies. Bhīṣma has treated Kuntī’s sons with tenderness, but Karṇa will not spare them.”
The din of battle resounded for miles, sending animals in distant forests bounding away in fear. Billowing clouds of dust, like heaps of tawny silk, rose up and obscured the sun. Weapons fell in thick showers on both armies, and the terrifying slaughter began once again.
Droṇa charged headlong into the Pāṇḍava army. He fired thousands of razor-sharp arrows that tore apart the warriors who stood before him. The fighters fell like rows of cranes before a gale. Invoking celestial weapons, Droṇa destroyed his enemies as Indra destroys the Asuras. The Pāṇḍava army quaked before Droṇa as he ranged about like Yamarāja holding his death-dealing staff.
Yudhiṣṭhira, alarmed at the destruction of his forces, spoke to Dṛṣṭadyumna. “Check Droṇa’s onslaught! No time should be lost!”
With a roar, Dṛṣṭadyumna charged Droṇa, followed by Bhīma, the twins, Abhimanyu, and other warriors. They surrounded Droṇa and rained their arrows on his chariot. Droṇa’s eyes rolled in anger. Working his bow with blinding speed, he repulsed his attackers like a storm blowing off clouds. He sent men and chariots reeling across the battlefield in all directions. Like one insane, he roamed the field releasing fire-like weapons. Beholding Droṇa rushing upon them like an angered Yamarāja, the Pāṇḍava forces fled in confusion and terror.
The terrific sound of Droṇa’s bowstring was heard continuously. Just as Bhīṣma had done before him, he slaughtered the Pāṇḍava soldiers. At the same time, other great heroes among the Kauravas engaged with their counterparts. Many furious one-to-one battles took place between the leading warriors of both armies.
Droṇa, his mind fixed on his promise to Duryodhana, ploughed relentlessly into the Pāṇḍava forces. Yudhiṣṭhira was stationed in their midst, protected by many maharathas who covered his chariot on all sides. Arjuna was close by, contending with a number of powerful chariot fighters who had been assigned the task of leading him away from his brother.
As Droṇa burst through the ranks of soldiers in front of Yudhiṣṭhira, he was met by Kumāra, a Pañchāla prince protecting Yudhiṣṭhira’s chariot wheels. As Yudhiṣṭhira fired his long shafts at Droṇa, Kumāra rushed toward him. The prince sent a volley of arrows at Droṇa that checked his progress. He pierced the Kuru preceptor with hundreds of shafts, laughing and roaring all the while. Not tolerating his attack, Droṇa regained his senses and fixed a broad-headed arrow onto his bow. Drawing it back to his ear, he fired it with deadly accuracy, severing Kumāra’s head from his body. Another Pañchāla prince, Simhasena, then struck Droṇa with a hundred ferocious arrows, supported by his brother, Vyaghradatta, who came at Droṇa screaming out his fearful battle cry. They both pierced Droṇa’s arms and chest with their steel shafts. Unperturbed, Droṇa sent two razor-headed arrows in swift succession that cut off their heads. As those handsome heads, decked with golden earrings and helmets, dropped to the earth, Droṇa pressed toward Yudhiṣṭhira. Seeing him approach the Pāṇḍava king, the Kaurava troops cried out, “Yudhiṣṭhira is captured!”
Cries of distress went up from the Pāṇḍava army as Droṇa came ever closer to Yudhiṣṭhira. Hearing the shouts, however, Arjuna rushed toward Droṇa, mercilessly mowing down the warriors who stood in his way. All that could be seen of Arjuna or his chariot as he fought his way toward his brother was a constantly spreading network of arrows. Above that shower flew Hanumān roaring frightfully from the banner.
Duryodhana ordered thousands of chariot fighters to charge Arjuna. Recklessly, they advanced toward him. The battlefield around Arjuna appeared to be one mass of arrows. Charging into the impenetrable wall of shafts, the Kauravas were cut down, their chariots smashed. Droṇa found it impossible to approach Yudhiṣṭhira. His supporting divisions could do nothing to help him. They were being destroyed by the inflamed Arjuna. Those that were not killed turned and fled in fear.
As Arjuna created a fearful destruction among the Kaurava army, the sun touched the western horizon. Droṇa blew his conch to withdraw his troops. Gradually the two armies disengaged and returned to their camps, praising each other’s heroism.
* * *
Droṇa was dejected as he took his place by Duryodhana’s side in the tent. He had been helpless in the face of Arjuna’s prowess. Shamed at his inability to contain his own disciple, he said to Duryodhana, “I told you already that when Arjuna is by Yudhiṣṭhira’s side, I will not be able to capture him. You must contrive some means to take Arjuna from his brother. I will then snatch Yudhiṣṭhira, even before the eyes of Dṛṣṭadyumna and all the other troops. I will either achieve this or slay at least one of the Pāṇḍavas’ greatest fighters--whoever comes to Yudhiṣṭhira’s aid. However, you need to ensure that Arjuna is busy elsewhere on the field.”
Hearing Droṇa speak Susharma said, “Arjuna has humiliated me many times. He bears malice toward me and my brothers. Remembering his antagonism I can hardly sleep at night. Let us therefore undertake the task tomorrow of contending with him. With fifty thousand chariot fighters who will not retreat behind us, we will challenge Arjuna to combat. Either he will lay prostrate on the field, or the earth will be relieved of the burden of my brothers and me and our entire army.”
Duryodhana praised Susharma and a cheer went up from the other kings. With his four brothers, Susharma took an oath before the sacred fire that he would fight to the death with Arjuna the following day. After Brahmins had sanctified his promise with mantras and holy water, he stood up and exclaimed, “If we do not slay Arjuna or become slain by him, let us attain the regions reserved for those who kill Brahmins, for drunkards, for those who forsake one who has sought shelter, for those who have intercourse with another’s wife, who are slayers of cattle, who abandon their own mother, or who are atheists. We claim those regions if we flee from Arjuna in battle tomorrow. Otherwise, may we attain the everlasting realms of happiness.”
After taking this vow, Susharma and his brothers retired for the night, leaving Duryodhana enlivened and hopeful. Even if Susharma could not kill Arjuna, which seemed likely, he would at least give Droṇa the freedom he needed to capture Yudhiṣṭhira. Duryodhana smiled at Karṇa. Perhaps he would not need to slay Arjuna after all. Between the promises of Droṇa and Susharma, it seemed the war would end in another way. The Kaurava prince did not care. As long as he emerged victorious, by whatever means, that was all that mattered. He rose from his seat and swept out of the assembly with his head held high, Karṇa following, grasping the hilt of his broad sword.
* * *
Early on the twelfth morning, news again reached Yudhiṣṭhira that Droṇa was intent on capturing him. He heard from his spies about Susharma’s promise. When Arjuna was informed, he said to his brother, “Still you need not fear, O King. Here is Sātyaki, my disciple and my equal in every respect. He will remain by your side at all times. Even if I am away, you cannot be captured while he is present.”
Reassured, Yudhiṣṭhira issued orders for the day’s battle. His forces were soon moving toward the fight, causing the earth to vibrate and raising clouds of dust as they proceeded in the formation shaped like an alligator.
As soon as Arjuna appeared before him, Susharma, who stood ahead of the Kaurava army, challenged him. Bound by kṣatriya codes, Arjuna accepted the challenge and charged. He was immediately surrounded by the thirty thousand chariots of the Samshaptakas and Trigartas. As the rest of the Pāṇḍava forces moved on across the plain to engage with the other Kaurava troops, Arjuna began a furious battle with those fearless warriors. They let out deafening roars and hurled their weapons at him. Hearing their elated shouts, Arjuna said to Kṛṣṇa, “Just see, O son of Devakī, how these men, who are about to fall in battle, are transported with joy when really they should be weeping. Or perhaps they are happy as they see before them heaven’s glowing regions, which can never be attained by cowards.”
Arjuna lifted his gold-encrusted celestial conch and let out a mighty blast. All four quarters were filled with the sound. Horses excreted and men fell from their chariots. Others were paralyzed with fear and stood motionless for a few moments. When the sound died away, they regained their senses and again roared. Taking up their bows, they fired thousands of shafts fletched with kanka feathers. In an instant Arjuna had shot arrows to counter every one of his opponents’ swift-coursing shafts. They fell in pieces to the ground. Arjuna pierced all the foremost charioteers who were bearing down upon him. Susharma and his brothers responded with sharp-pointed arrows that struck Arjuna’s arms and chest. A huge shower of other steel arrows fell on Arjuna’s chariot, like a swarm of black bees going toward a tree full of blossoms.
Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot and baffled the enemy attack. As he emerged from the hail of shafts, Arjuna fired razor-headed arrows that cut down his foes’ standards. With arrows shot in swift succession he slew the four horses of Sudhaman, one of Susharma’s brothers, and then cut off his head. As the prince fell from his chariot, his four brothers increased the fury of their attack. Tens of thousands of other chariot fighters and horsemen hurled their weapons at him from all sides. At the same time, the Nārāyaṇa army from Dwārakā rushed into the fight with terrible cries. Arjuna was completely engaged in the battle as the rest of the Pāṇḍava forces met the Kauravas some distance away.
With their forces arrayed in a formation resembling an eagle, the Kauravas closed on their enemies. Droṇa, stationed at the head of the array, at once made for Yudhiṣṭhira. Sātyaki charged Droṇa, releasing his swift arrows by the hundreds. He attacked the Kuru preceptor and rendered his two charioteers unconscious with a volley of arrows. Piercing his horses with even more arrows, he brought Droṇa’s chariot to a halt.
Droṇa was filled with rage, and he gazed at his antagonist with bloodshot eyes. Considering that Sātyaki’s time had come, he shot a dozen snake-like shafts that sundered his bow and pierced his armor. Unperturbed, Sātyaki grasped another bow and replied with thirty of his own arrows. They struck Droṇa and he spun round in his chariot and dropped his bow.
Seeing the preceptor hard-pressed by Sātyaki, other Kaurava fighters came to his aid. At the same time, other Pāṇḍava warriors joined Sātyaki and a fierce general fight followed. Droṇa quickly regained his senses and fought on in total rage. Thousands of Pañchāla and Matsya soldiers surrounded him and he killed them all, including the two powerful princes, Satyajit and Satanika.
Seeing his troops being mowed down, Dṛṣṭadyumna came forward with Śikhaṇḍī. Along with Sātyaki, Chekitana, and many other Pāṇḍava heroes, they managed to hold Droṇa in check. As that battle raged, the soldiers on both sides fell in waves. The battlefield was a morass of flesh and blood. Droṇa fought like a man possessed. The Pāṇḍava army quaked in fear as he released his celestial weapons that slew them by the thousands. Droṇa forced all his attackers to turn away from him in the fight. He could hardly be looked upon and the Pāṇḍavas surrounding him were routed.
Duryodhana laughed and spoke to Karṇa, who was there at his side. “Behold, Radheya, how these troops flee from the battle. They seem to spin around and around as they look for a path by which to escape from Droṇa. I think they have lost all taste for battle. Surely they are seeing the world as being full of Droṇa. How will they return to the fight? What can even Bhīma do against the warlike preceptor?”
Karṇa was in a graver mood. “That Pāṇḍava hero will never abandon the fight so long as life remains in him. Nor will his brothers turn away from battle at any time. Remembering the woes you inflicted upon them, they will rush against us again and again. Even now the mighty Bhīma is coming forward. Doubtlessly he will slay our forces in vast numbers. See too how Sātyaki and Dṛṣṭadyumna are rallying back to the fight, along with the twins and numerous other maharathas among our foes. All of them are bearing down on Droṇa with a singleness of purpose. Let us prepare our forces without delay.”
Duryodhana looked across the field. He saw Bhīma’s chariot, drawn by its four red horses, racing toward Droṇa. Bhīma was flanked by Dṛṣṭadyumna and Sātyaki. The three warriors roared like lions as they approached the Kuru commander. Behind them came a great wave of chariot fighters and horsemen, releasing showers of arrows as they charged. Duryodhana broke from Karṇa and raced across the field, issuing orders for Droṇa’s protection. A number of Kaurava heroes came between the Kuru preceptor and his assailants and soon the fight resumed with full force.
Duryodhana personally attacked Bhīma, his mind seized with anger. At the head of a massive elephant force, he challenged the Pāṇḍava with insulting words. Bhīma laughingly shot spiked arrows at the elephants. Drawing his great bow back to his ear he sent his shafts with such force that they felled the elephants one after another. Bhīma’s chariot moved like the wind from side to side as he rained down his irresistible weapons. He dispersed his attackers like a tempest scattering clouds. The blood-soaked elephants, pierced all over, appeared beautiful, like dark clouds lit by the rays of the setting sun.
Excited, Duryodhana approached Bhīma and pierced him with a number of shafts. Bhīma turned his blood-red eyes toward the Kaurava and licked his lips. Instantly he shot dozens of gold-winged arrows, which pierced Duryodhana deeply. With a broad-headed shaft he brought down the black, gem-encrusted serpent banner that flew above Duryodhana’s chariot. He then severed Duryodhana’s bow with another shaft and sent up a roar.
Seeing the Kaurava leader afflicted by Bhīma, the barbarian king leading the elephant division came forward on his massive beast. Without delay Bhīma struck the elephant between the eyes with a powerful shaft that stopped it in its tracks. With four more arrows he brought the elephant crashing to the ground. As it fell like a mountain struck by a thunderbolt, the barbarian chief tried to leap clear; but even as he jumped, Bhīma cut off his head with a razor-headed arrow fired with deadly accuracy.
Seeing their leader slain, the other elephant warriors fled. Duryodhana tried to rally them, but without success. He moved away from Bhīma and saw Bhagadatta coming up fast to assist him. The mighty fighter on his invincible elephant Supratika rushed toward Bhīma, seeming to fly over the battlefield. Bhīma fired his long shafts at the charging beast, but they fell harmlessly from its body. In a moment the elephant reached Bhīma’s chariot and crushed it along with its horses as Bhīma threw himself clear.
Supratika reared up again and again, screaming in fury and looking around for Bhīma. The Pāṇḍava ran beneath the beast and struck it with his bare arms. In pain the elephant whirled around like a potter’s wheel. Bhīma came out from beneath it and the elephant seized him in its trunk. Bhīma spun round and freed himself from the twine of the trunk and again hid beneath the screaming beast that was endeavoring to kill him.
Yudhiṣṭhira saw Bhīma and ordered a division of his own elephants to assist him. As Supratika was diverted by the attack of enemy elephants, Bhīma saw his chance and he dashed away.
A battle then ensued between Bhagadatta and the Pāṇḍava forces mounted on elephants, led by the Dasharna king. They surrounded Bhagadatta and covered him with volleys of arrows. Bhagadatta fended off their shafts with his whirling hook. Goading Supratika forward, he trampled and crushed the enemy forces like a storm crushing a forest. Chariots, horsemen and infantry were mangled as the great beast rampaged across the field. Impervious to its foes’ weapons, the elephant caused chaos among the Pāṇḍava forces. Soldiers fled and their animals cried in terror. Rising above the sound were Supratika’s frightful screams as it thundered about the field unchecked.
Some way off, Arjuna battled on alone against the Samshaptakas and the Nārāyaṇa army. As he fought, he could hear Supratika’s screams. Recognizing the sound he said, “O Madhusudana, it is clear that the Pragyotisha ruler is annihilating our army. I doubt if anyone can stop his elephant except us. What then is my duty, O Kṛṣṇa? I think I should proceed at once to where Bhagadatta is roaring out his battle cry. Dispatching him and his beast to Death’s abode, I will then return to this fight.”
Kṛṣṇa agreed and urged Arjuna’s horses toward the rest of the Pāṇḍava army. As they raced away, however, the Samshaptakas called out from behind, “Why do you flee from the fight? Turn and face us again, for you have not yet defeated us.”
Arjuna was caught in a dilemma. He wanted to save his army from Bhagadatta, but he could not avoid the Samshaptakas. No kṣatriya worthy of the name could refuse a challenge. He told Kṛṣṇa to stop the chariot and turn round. First he would wipe out the entire Samshaptaka force, then deal with Bhagadatta. As Kṛṣṇa wheeled the chariot around Arjuna still could not fix his mind. There were hundreds of thousands of warriors supporting Susharma and his army. They were spread out over a large area and it would take hours to overcome them. By then, Bhagadatta and his unstoppable elephant might have done untold damage.
Suddenly the Samshaptakas launched a coordinated attack on Arjuna. Countless arrows descended upon his chariot, striking both him and Kṛṣṇa. Kṛṣṇa dropped the reins and fell back in a swoon as the barbed steel shafts covered Him. The chariot stopped and vanished beneath the hail of arrows. Losing his patience, Arjuna decided to invoke the brahmāstra weapon. He fixed a golden arrow to his bow and chanted the sacred mantras to bring the awful weapon into being. With consummate skill he directed it at his foes, continuously firing long shafts imbued with the power of the brahmāstra.
A solid wall of blazing arrows went toward the Samshaptakas. The warriors fell to earth with their heads, arms and legs severed. Chariots were smashed into fragments and elephants cut to pieces. Horses and riders fell dead by the thousands. The whole army appeared to be on fire, struck by the beautiful but deadly shafts shot by Arjuna’s mystic powers.
Kṛṣṇa returned to His senses and said, “Well done, Pārtha. I think this feat of weaponry would have been hard for Indra, Kuvera, or even Yamarāja himself. Our enemies are routed. Those staying in the fight are being slain like insects entering a fire.”
Arjuna asked Kṛṣṇa to go quickly to Bhagadatta. He could return later to deal with the rest of the Samshaptakas and their supporting armies. As swift as the wind, the chariot flew over the battlefield and soon arrived where the battle with Bhagadatta was taking place. Seeing Arjuna entering the fight, Duryodhana detailed a large force of chariot fighters to attack him. They rushed in a body toward Arjuna and rained their arrows, darts and lances upon him. Bearing the attack with fortitude, Arjuna continuously worked the Gāṇḍīva bow and sent whistling shafts at all the warriors who came at him. Fearless of their lives, the Kaurava troops charged at Arjuna with shouts and roars. The Pāṇḍava cut them down with his arrows as a farmer cuts a field of wheat.
Seeing Arjuna annihilating the troops, Bhagadatta raced toward him. He showered a downpour of arrows onto Arjuna’s chariot and directed Supratika to trample him. Arjuna calmly resisted his attack with volleys of his own shafts, even as the shore resists the ocean. The two warriors hurtled about the field, locked in deadly combat. Bhagadatta sent hundreds of arrows at both Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa, but Kuntī’s son cut them down before they could reach him. Supratika charged at Arjuna like a mountain rocking across the field. Impervious to Arjuna’s arrows the animal screamed in fury as it bore down on the golden chariot. Kṛṣṇa masterfully drove the horses and evaded the charge, feinting to the left of the beast. As he passed to Bhagadatta’s side, Arjuna saw his opportunity to slay the unprotected warrior and his animal, but remembering the rules of combat he desisted from the act.
Seeing Arjuna’s chariot slipping past, Bhagadatta’s elephant was overpowered by rage and ran pell mell through the Pāṇḍava forces. Hundreds of chariots, with their warriors, horses and charioteers, were crushed and slaughtered. Arjuna was infuriated by Bhagadatta’s remorseless attack. Moving quickly to the front he sped four arrows at him which cut apart his bow. With two more arrows he slew the two warriors who sat behind Bhagadatta.
The Pragyotisha monarch threw fourteen lances at Arjuna in quick succession. Those jewel-encrusted javelins, with shining steel points, blazed as they sped toward the Pāṇḍava, their many small bells tinkling delightfully. Arjuna immediately shot arrows that cut each of the lances into three pieces. As the lances fell to the earth he fired another dozen shafts that broke Supratika’s armor. It fell from the elephant’s body in fragments like meteors falling from heaven. The dark beast then appeared like a mountain suddenly freed of its surrounding clouds.
Bhagadatta hurled a long dart at Arjuna, its tip glowing red and emitting sparks as it flew. Arjuna calmly cut it in two with a single razor-headed shaft. He then cut the kings white umbrella and tall standard. With a further ten shafts he pierced Bhagadatta, who replied with two dozen long lances. One of the lances struck Arjuna’s diadem and knocked it from his head. Replacing his diadem, Arjuna gazed at Bhagadatta with steely eyes. He shouted out, “Take a last look at this world, O King.”
Bhagadatta quickly took up a new bow and covered Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa with a shower of barbed arrows. Arjuna released a cluster of flat-headed shafts that cut his bow to pieces and pierced all his limbs. Taking up his golden hook, Bhagadatta thought of the Vaiṣṇava weapon, which was in his possession. Reciting the ancient aphorisms to invoke that irresistible weapon, he charged his elephant hook with its potency and hurled it at Arjuna. All the warriors witnessing the fight between Arjuna and Bhagadatta gasped as they saw the missile, capable of killing all creatures, fly toward Arjuna.
Suddenly Kṛṣṇa stood up from His place on the chariot. Throwing out His arms He received the weapon full on the chest. As it struck Him, it turned into a garland of celestial flowers and draped itself around His neck.
Arjuna was mortified. Why had Kṛṣṇa interfered? Keeping his eyes on Bhagadatta, who had been stunned by Kṛṣṇa’s thwarting of the Vaiṣṇava missile, he said, “O lotus-eyed one, Your promise was that You would drive my horses and never enter the fight. Why have You interceded? I could understand You taking it upon Yourself to protect me when I am incapable or about to fall, but here I stand with all my faculties and weapons. Not even the combined celestials and Asuras could defeat me. How have You felt it necessary to act as You just did?”
Slowly circling the chariot around Bhagadatta, Kṛṣṇa replied, “Hear, O sinless one, the origin of the weapon that Bhagadatta released for your destruction. Long ago, when I awoke from slumber in My form as Mahavishnu, the Earth goddess came to Me seeking a boon. Knowing that I was inclined to grant favors at that time, she said, ‘Please bestow upon my son Naraka the Vaiṣṇava weapon. Let it be that he cannot be slain by any being.’
“I replied, ‘O goddess, it shall be so. Your son will be invincible, protected by My weapon.’ She then went away and her son received the weapon, which he later passed on to Bhagadatta. This weapon can slay any being within the three worlds, including Indra and Rudra. Therefore, for your sake, O Arjuna, I baffled the missile. Now you may slay your opponent, this implacable enemy of the gods Bhagadatta, even as in days gone by I slew Naraka in a great fight.”
Understanding that Kṛṣṇa had saved his life, Arjuna fixed his gaze on Bhagadatta. He swiftly covered him with hundreds of straight-flying shafts. As Bhagadatta parried the attack, Arjuna took up a long golden lance. He drew it back and, invoking the power of Indra, hurled it with all his strength at Supratika. It went into the elephant’s head right up to its golden wings. Supratika stopped in its tracks, its limbs paralyzed. Although goaded by Bhagadatta, it slowly fell to the earth like an enormous hill uprooted by a thunderbolt. As his elephant screamed Bhagadatta leapt from its back.
Before Bhagadatta reached the ground, Arjuna shot a crescent-headed shaft that tore open his breast and cut his heart in two. His bright turban fell from his head like a petal falling from a lotus whose stem has been violently struck. He dropped to the earth with his golden garland broken and scattered. His arms and legs spread akimbo, he appeared like a god fallen from heaven when his pious credits have expired.
Arjuna circumambulated his foe in respect. Then, turning his chariot toward the Kaurava army, he rushed back into the battle.
Śakuni’s two brothers then attacked Arjuna with mighty yells. They were backed by a thousand Gandhara horsemen. The warriors fell upon Arjuna, releasing hundreds of arrows. Unperturbed, Arjuna took up a couple of razor-headed shafts and beheaded both princes. The horrified Śakuni then charged at Arjuna. Invoking a mystical Asura weapon, he spread a fearful illusion that covered the Pāṇḍava. Clubs, iron balls, rocks, darts, barbed shafts, bludgeons, swords, tridents, axes, and other weapons fell on Arjuna from all sides. Ferocious animals, burning with hunger, attacked Arjuna along with Rākṣasas, carnivorous birds and demons. A thick gloom enveloped his chariot and harsh voices reproached him from out of the darkness.
Arjuna invoked the lustrous celestial weapon known as the Gotishka and the darkness dispelled. All his illusory assailants vanished, but huge waves of water then appeared and rushed toward him. Arjuna quickly discharged the Aditya weapon to dry up the waters. Seeing his illusions nullified, Śakuni turned and took to his heels like a cowardly deserter. Arjuna turned on the Gandhara forces and slaughtered them like a lion killing small animals.
Other Kaurava warriors charged into the fray and a general fight ensued between the two armies. Yudhiṣṭhira remained near Arjuna, with Dṛṣṭadyumna and Sātyaki by his side. The Kaurava forces were broken and dispersed by Arjuna and Bhīma, who fought together like a couple of enraged gods.
Abhimanyu fought with Karṇa, keeping the powerful warrior engaged, while Dṛṣṭadyumna directed his weapons at Droṇa. As the foremost fighters contended, Arjuna drove back Duryodhana’s huge army with his hundreds of thousands of shafts. Bhīma spun around on foot, creating a carnage with his whirling mace.
Droṇa fought intensely, but he could not find any opportunity to seize Yudhiṣṭhira. He slew numerous powerful fighters and wrought a massive destruction among the soldiers, but the invincible Sātyaki guarded Yudhiṣṭhira closely and, assisted by Dṛṣṭadyumna and the Pañchāla forces, kept Droṇa at bay.
As the sun reached the meridian, Droṇa, seeing the Kauravas getting the worst of the fight, decided to regroup. He sounded the retreat and recalled the vast army to the western side of the field, where they were encamped.
Duryodhana was angry. “O preceptor, why have you not fulfilled your vow? You did not capture Yudhiṣṭhira, and Arjuna ranges unchecked across the field. Are your words to prove false?”
Droṇa felt his patience tried. “It does not behoove you to address such harsh words to one who is always striving to serve you. I have told you many times that no one in the universe can conquer Arjuna. He has even held the three-eyed Mahadeva in battle. Now that Yudhiṣṭhira is aware of our aims, he is keeping himself well-guarded. It will be difficult to capture him, but I will try my utmost. My word that I will kill one mighty hero will be kept. I will now form an array that even the gods could not penetrate. The remaining Samshaptakas should again challenge Arjuna and take him to the southern side of the field. We will then try to trap Yudhiṣṭhira and, in so doing, will at least take the life of someone who comes to protect him.”
Droṇa gazed across at the Pāṇḍava army. If one of their principal fighters could be killed, it would be a blow to their morale. He decided to form the Kauravas into the chakravyuha, the circular array. That arrangement would likely result in one of the Pāṇḍava heroes being trapped, perhaps even Yudhiṣṭhira. Only Arjuna knew the secrets of that formation. No one else among the Pāṇḍavas could resist or break it. Unless, that was, Arjuna had taught it to someone. Droṇa began giving the commands. He would soon find out.
2.15: Abhimanyu’s Incomparable Power
After deciding to regroup the Kauravas, Droṇa went over to Susharma and said, “O King, your vow remains unfulfilled. Arjuna will doubtlessly accept your challenge again. Go with your brothers and draw that hero toward the south. We will try again to trap Yudhiṣṭhira.”
Susharma immediately left with his three remaining brothers. They were followed by the surviving Samshaptakas, Trigartas and Nārāyaṇas. All the warriors blew their conches and roared, their minds fixed on victory or death.
Seeing Susharma stationed across from him blowing his conch and shouting a challenge, Arjuna broke away from the Pāṇḍava army and rushed once more toward him. Gradual maneuvering brought him toward the south, as Droṇa arranged the rest of the Kaurava forces into the chakravyuha.
Soon the circular array was formed, with the invincible Kaurava chiefs stationed at its key points. In ranks the soldiers advanced toward the Pāṇḍavas. Duryodhana and his brothers stood in the center of the formation, supported by Karṇa and Kṛpa. At its head stood Droṇa and his son, backed by many kings and their forces, who spread out behind him in a vast circle.
As Droṇa closed on his foes, he let loose hundreds of winged arrows. Immediately, a massive wave of shafts flew toward the Pāṇḍava army, along with lances, darts, iron balls and battle-axes. The warriors’ cries filled the air.
Seeing that his enemies had arranged themselves in the impenetrable chakravyuha, Yudhiṣṭhira became thoughtful. Only Arjuna knew how to break that array. He had mentioned it to his brothers, but he had not told them the secrets he had learned from Droṇa. But Yudhiṣṭhira recalled Arjuna saying how he had once discussed the knowledge with Subhadrā and that Abhimanyu had overheard him speaking. The prince was their only chance. Yudhiṣṭhira called for him and said, “O son, I think that apart from yourself there are none in our army who can break the arrangement of troops now advancing toward us. Your father, Kṛṣṇa and Pradyumna are the only warriors on earth who know the secret of breaking it--and I understand that you are a fourth knower of this secret, having heard it from your sire. O heroic prince, Droṇa surely intends to push through our forces with this unbreakable formation. Throwing us into disarray, he will then try to capture me. Tell me, dear child, can you smash through these troops today?”
Abhimanyu stood proudly in his chariot. Clad in bright armor, his bow clasped in his hand and his standard waving in the breeze, the handsome youth looked exactly like a powerful hero among the gods. Although only sixteen years old, he was already one of the foremost fighters in the Pāṇḍava army. But he seemed uncertain as he replied to Yudhiṣṭhira. “O King, what you say is true. I am conversant with the method of breaking and entering this array, but I do not think it possible for me to get out again. My father has not yet taught me that knowledge. I will be like an insect impelled by anger to rush into fire. If any danger should befall me, I will be trapped.”
Yudhiṣṭhira reassured him. “Do not fear, O mighty-armed one. My brothers and I will be right behind you, along with Dṛṣṭadyumna, Sātyaki, and all the Pañchālas, Kekayas, Matsyas and Prabhadrakas. We will protect you from all sides.”
Bhīma, who had overheard the conversation, added, “We will follow you closely, O hero. Once we enter the array, we will smash it apart.”
Hearing his uncles’ assurances, Abhimanyu became confident. He raised his sword and loudly said, “Today I will achieve something that will glorify both my mother’s and my father’s family. I wish to please my father and my uncle. All creatures will see me, a single child of the Vrishnis, crush the enemy host. I will not consider myself the son of either Pārtha or Subhadrā if anyone I encounter today escapes with his life, or if I fail to enter the array.”
Yudhiṣṭhira blessed the prince. “May your words prove true, O son of Subhadrā, and may your strength increase even as you speak. Go now and we shall be not far behind you, supported by troops who are no less than the celestials.”
Abhimanyu looked at the advancing Kauravas. He ordered his charioteer, “O Sumitra, urge the horses toward Droṇa’s divisions. I will break his formation apart as the sun dispels clouds.”
Sumitra, the son of Kṛṣṇa’s charioteer, Dāruka, drove toward Droṇa. As the chariot thundered across the field he spoke with apprehension. “It is my duty to protect you, O best of men. Consider carefully the heavy burden that has been placed upon you. Droṇa is adept at all kinds of weaponry. He is surrounded by warriors who have yet to be defeated, all arranged in a mighty formation. You, on the other hand, are a child raised in luxury. You have not known the rigors of hard battle. This will certainly be your most difficult fight.”
Abhimanyu laughed. “O charioteer, who is this Droṇa? Who indeed are all these kṣatriyas supporting him? I would fight with Indra mounted on Airāvata and attended by the immortals. How are these foes competent to fight a battle with even a sixteenth part of me? I, who have the world-conquering Viṣṇu as my uncle and the famous Arjuna as my father, will not quake with terror at the sight of any enemy within the three worlds. Drive on, O Sumitra. Make straight for Droṇa.”
Sumitra looked at the solid wall of enemy troops. With a heavy heart he urged on the horses, which were caparisoned in gold and silver. The chariot raced toward Droṇa, with Abhimanyu firing volleys of arrows at him and all the warriors by his side.
Seeing the standard bearing the karnikara tree, Droṇa recognized Arjuna’s son. As the prince charged toward the Kauravas, he seemed like a young lion attacking a herd of elephants. Droṇa issued orders and began the counterattack.
Abhimanyu carefully directed Sumitra, and his chariot feinted from side to side as he came at an oblique angle toward the Kaurava ranks. Maintaining his fierce attack on Droṇa, he simultaneously hurled arrows at the warriors fighting at his sides and rear. As they fell back under his assault, Abhimanyu suddenly veered away to the right. Stunning Droṇa with a hundred steel shafts, he raced past him and broke into the formation as the Kauravas looked on in amazement.
A frightful encounter ensued as the outer rank of the formation broke apart. The confused battle between the prince and the densely packed troops appeared like the eddies produced when the Ganges meets the ocean. Large numbers of elephant fighters, horsemen, charioteers and foot soldiers closed in around Abhimanyu, all roaring in delight.
Subhadrā’s son began to cut down his foes with his arrows. He rushed about amid his enemies like a whirlwind. It seemed to the Kauravas as if they were contending with hundreds of Abhimanyus. As various musical instruments sounded, shouts of “Slay him!” “Fight with me!” and “Where are you going?” mixed with battle cries, the twang of bowstrings, and the clash of weapons. The cries of elephants, the roar of warriors, the tinkling of ornaments, and the clatter of chariot wheels combined to create a deafening and confused din that made everyone’s hair stand on end.
Abhimanyu ranged about slaughtering the Kaurava warriors by the hundreds of thousands. His speed and agility were incomparable. The soldiers who faced him were like moths flying into fire. Abhimanyu quickly covered the earth with the bodies of slain warriors, like a priest laying kusha grass on the ground during a sacrifice. Well-muscled arms graced with bracelets and gold bangles were lopped off, still clutching weapons. Other arms lay with their hands stretched out, looking like five-hooded serpents thrown about by Garuḍa. Handsome heads adorned with fine helmets and smeared with the best of perfumes rolled on the ground like ripe fruits fallen from trees.
Once within the Kauravas’ vyuha, Arjuna’s son careened in all directions. None of his foes could fix their aim on him, so swift was his momentum. His arrows flew like streams of golden sunlight. He brought down huge elephants with their riders, scattering their armors and caparisons. Horsemen fell from their saddles, slain by shafts that passed clean through their bodies. Their horses reared in fear and were cut down by Abhimanyu’s relentless volleys. The animals lay about weltering in gore, their eyes bulging and tongues hanging out.
Sending men and beasts to the blissful regions of departed heroes, Abhimanyu charged repeatedly, uttering fearful war cries. As he displayed various maneuvers, the Kaurava heroes thought him beautiful. They shouted in appreciation. Despite their best efforts to train their weapons on him, they could find no gaps in his defenses. Rather, as they approached him they were struck by dozens of his speeding arrows.
The Kauravas appeared like the Asura army mangled by Skanda. Subhadrā’s son moved fearlessly and swiftly through them, leaving a trail of carnage. Thousands of Kaurava fighters threw down their weapons and fled the fight. Forsaking their wounded relatives and friends, they ran wildly in all directions. Elephants ran screaming and swift horses galloped at full tilt away from Abhimanyu, leaping over the fallen soldiers who filled the blood-soaked earth.
Duryodhana was incensed. Reckless of his own safety, he rushed at Abhimanyu with a roar. Seeing this, Droṇa was alarmed and he shouted to the warriors around him, “Save the king!” Aśvatthāmā, Kṛpa, Karṇa, Śakuni, Śalya, and another half dozen heroes all converged on Abhimanyu. The young prince was covered with a thick downpour of arrows. Spinning on the terrace of his chariot he countered the arrows with his own, as Sumitra maneuvered his chariot clear. He pierced every one of his assailants with stinging arrows that could hardly be seen as they flew.
The Kaurava warriors then attacked Abhimanyu on all sides. They rained down their shafts by the thousands, but the prince either warded them off or dexterously evaded them. Some shafts penetrated his defenses and pierced his armor, but he did not flinch. Taking careful aim, he sent a dozen arrows that broke apart the chariot of King Ashmaka, a powerful Kaurava ally. With a further six arrows he slew the king’s four horses, his charioteer, and the king himself.
Seeing the monarch slain, the Kaurava soldiers turned and fled. Duryodhana and Karṇa fought side by side, sending their arrows at Abhimanyu in volleys. Bearing the arrows like a mountain bears showers of rain, Abhimanyu sped at Karṇa a powerful arrow capable of piercing his armor. It struck him on the shoulder and dug deep into his body. Pained, Karṇa shook like a hill in an earthquake and fell into a swoon.
Abhimanyu then stunned Duryodhana with sixteen arrows and followed that by slaying four more kings supporting the Kaurava. Śalya and Aśvatthāmā assailed him from both flanks at once. Exhibiting the speed and skill of his father, Abhimanyu shot his steel-tipped shafts at Śalya and sent him reeling in his chariot. As the arrows struck Śalya, Abhimanyu spun around and released a dozen more at Aśvatthāmā. Droṇa’s son was rocked by their force and he squatted down on the terrace of his chariot.
The Kauravas facing Abhimanyu fled in greater and greater numbers. Only the foremost heroes could stand against him. Even they were soon overpowered by his furious attack. As he ranged about on his glittering chariot, Siddhas and Cāraṇas praised him from the skies. The Kauravas also cheered him, feeling simultaneous awe and anger as they were forced back by his peerless martial skills.
Abhimanyu slew thousands of Kauravas--anyone who came before him. Śalya’s younger brother Madra, seeing Śalya afflicted by Abhimanyu, rushed angrily at him. He hurled twenty blazing darts at him, but the prince cut them to pieces. Abhimanyu counterattacked Madra with long shafts that shattered his chariot and cut off his arms, legs and head simultaneously. As Madra fell dead from his chariot, thousands of soldiers in his army charged angrily at Abhimanyu. Calling out their names as they attacked, they shouted, “You will not escape with your life today, even if it costs us our own lives.”
Subhadrā’s son met their attack with a deadly volley of arrows. He invoked celestial missiles he had received from his father and uncle. His bow resembled the blazing summer sun as he sent waves of horseshoe- headed and calf-tooth-headed shafts slamming into the Kaurava warriors, tearing them apart. With crescent-headed and barbed shafts Abhimanyu mangled his foes mercilessly. He carved through their divisions unchecked, dispersing them as the sun disperses mist.
Droṇa could not conceal his admiration for Arjuna’s son. Duryodhana had come up to him and the preceptor said, “Just see, O King, how this youthful prince advances against our forces, giving delight to his friends and relatives. I do not think any bowman is his equal. Surely he could annihilate our entire host, if he so desired.”
But Duryodhana was enraged. Still, he smiled and said to Karṇa, who had stopped next to him, “It is clear the preceptor is affectionate toward Arjuna’s son. Otherwise, why does he not slay him? None can resist the angry Droṇa when he stands with his weapons in battle. He spares this youth out of love for Arjuna. Protected by Droṇa, Abhimanyu is able to exhibit his prowess. Well, the time has come to kill him. O Karṇa, waste no time in slaying this arrogant child. Crush him at once!”
Dushashana heard his brother’s words and replied, “Leave this to me. I will slay him before the Pāṇḍavas’ eyes. Hearing that I have killed this boy, Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, the two braggarts, will surely go to the regions of the departed. Without doubt, all their kinsmen will be consumed by grief and will follow their path. Wish me well, O King. I will now challenge Subhadrā’s overly proud son.”
Dushashana rushed at Abhimanyu with a loud cry. He fired a shower of arrows, decked with buzzard feathers, that covered Abhimanyu’s chariot. The young prince smiled as he recognized his antagonist--and he struck him at once with two dozen shafts. Not tolerating the attack, Dushashana increased the ferocity of his own assault. He fired at Abhimanyu arrows and darts that blazed brilliantly as they flew toward him. The prince countered the missiles and returned his own in large numbers. Both combatants exhibited various maneuvers in their chariots, showing skills that delighted the onlookers. The Kauravas sounded all kinds of musical instruments and cheered as Dushashana pressed his attack on Abhimanyu.
Holding off his opponent’s attack, Abhimanyu called out to him, “By good luck I find before me a vain warrior of cruel deeds and lost righteousness--he who ever brays of his own prowess and knows only sinful deeds. With joy you pierced Yudhiṣṭhira and Bhīma with your wicked words. Pay for that crime now, O evil-minded one. Suffer for the sin of grasping the sinless Draupadī’s hair. Reap the fatal fruits of your ignorance, violence, covetousness and persecution of others. I shall now chastise you severely before all these warriors, thus freeing myself from the burden of anger I bear against you.”
In a matter of seconds Abhimanyu fixed an effulgent golden arrow on his bow and fired it with all his power. It dug deeply into Dushashana’s shoulder and he dropped his bow. Abhimanyu struck him with a further twenty-five shafts that burned like fire. Pierced on his chest and arms, the Kaurava squatted in pain and fell into a swoon. His charioteer quickly carried him from the fight.
Seeing Dushashana overpowered, Karṇa came to challenge Abhimanyu, but he too could not defeat the young warrior. Abhimanyu gradually forced him back with dozens of arrows. With his standard cut down and his armor shattered, Karṇa fell back and turned away. He was being supported by sons of Adhiratha, whom Karṇa considered his own brothers. One of them rushed at Abhimanyu in a rage. He launched a hundred arrows at him and sent up his battle cry. Abhimanyu turned to face the impetuous warrior. The young prince, whose mind was free from malice, struck Karṇa’s brother with thirty powerful arrows. He broke his standard, killed his horses, and shattered his chariot wheels. As his antagonist fired back, Abhimanyu lopped off his head with a crescent-headed shaft.
The Kaurava troops cried out in sorrow. None of them were able to face Abhimanyu, who stood on the field like a blazing sacrificial fire. He blew his conch and began to range among the Kauravas, sending deadly shafts in all directions. He slew thousands of men as he fought within the circle formation.
Yudhiṣṭhira, Bhīma, the twins, Dṛṣṭadyumna, Drupada, Virata and other chiefs among the Pāṇḍavas had watched Abhimanyu break into the Kauravas’ midst. As he entered the vyuha like an elephant breaking through a copse of trees, he left a large gap in the outer ranks. The Pāṇḍavas made swiftly for the gap, intending to follow the boy into the formation.
Suddenly Jayadratha came forward and challenged the Pāṇḍavas. Placing himself between them and the smashed vyuha, the Sindhu king attacked all of them with profuse arrows. Empowered by Śiva’s boon, Jayadratha fought fearlessly. He checked all four Pāṇḍavas. According to Śiva’s boon, the Sindhu monarch did not encounter Arjuna, who was fighting with the Samshaptakas far away on the battlefield. Arjuna’s brothers could not overpower Jayadratha as they hurried to follow Abhimanyu.
The Pāṇḍavas were astonished. Unaware of the boon, they were amazed at Jayadratha’s ability to hold them all at bay. Even though the advancing Pāṇḍava warriors trained their weapons on him, they could not get the better of him. As they struggled to get past Jayadratha, the Kauravas reformed. The Pāṇḍavas looked on helplessly as the chakravyuha closed, trapping Abhimanyu inside.
Dozens of powerful Kaurava heroes came up to assist Jayadratha, praising his prowess in holding off the Pāṇḍavas. A fight took place on the edge of the Kaurava formation, while Abhimanyu wrought havoc within it. Faced by impenetrable ranks of warriors, the Pāṇḍavas saw no way to reach Arjuna’s son.
* * *
Within the formation Duryodhana grew increasingly anxious. No one seemed able to stop Abhimanyu. Whoever went before him was either immediately slain or forced to retreat. He had overpowered all the great Kaurava heroes, including Karṇa, Kṛpa, Aśvatthāmā, Śalya, Kṛtavarmā and Bāhlika. Duryodhana himself had been stung by his shafts, and even Droṇa seemed unable to check him.
As Duryodhana gazed at Abhimanyu hurtling among his forces like a fireball consuming everything in its path, Śakuni said, “We will not be able to slay this prince by fair means. Find some other way to kill him. All of us together must assail him before he destroys everyone.”
Hearing the suggestion, Karṇa said to Droṇa, “O preceptor, tell us how to kill Abhimanyu.”
Droṇa looked at Abhimanyu with respect and admiration. “Have any of you seen any weakness in that prince? Although you have all attacked him with care, you have not seen the slightest gap in his defenses. Indeed, all you could see was his whirling bow, constantly drawn to a circle, firing flaming shafts. That slayer of hostile heroes is affording me great delight, even as he afflicts my limbs with his burning arrows. I see no difference between him and his illustrious father.”
Karṇa grew impatient upon hearing Abhimanyu praised. His voice rang out again. “O Brahmin, I too have been wounded by this boy. Only my adherence to kṣatriya duty keeps me on the field. He has almost slain the king himself, and he is annihilating our troops. Please tell us how we can check him.”
“Abhimanyu is virtuous and faithful,” replied Droṇa. “He is powerful and has been taught by both Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa. Arjuna has shown him how to encase himself in impenetrable armor. None of us will be able to strike him down.”
Droṇa lowered his head as he went on, “There is, however, a way by which we may be able to overcome him. O Karṇa, listen carefully. If you can cut his bow, the reins of his horses and his chariot wheels, then at the same time Kṛtavarmā can kill his horses and Aśvatthāmā can kill his charioteer, while Kṛpa, the king and I will attack him directly. Perhaps if six of us attack him simultaneously, we will be able to overpower him.”
Droṇa knew his advice was not in keeping with the codes of combat, but there seemed no alternative. Ultimately, as the Kaurava commander it was his duty to protect the army by whatever means. Heavy-hearted, Droṇa prepared to attack Abhimanyu along with the other five Kaurava chiefs. They surrounded the prince and Karṇa cut apart his bow. Kṛtavarmā then killed his steeds and Aśvatthāmā his driver. As Droṇa and Kṛpa assailed him from the front, Duryodhana attacked him from behind. With his horses killed and his chariot immobilized, the prince leapt down clutching his sword and buckler. Swiftly whirling his sword he cut down the arrows that sped toward him.
The six Kauravas closed on Abhimanyu as he fended off their attack with his sword and shield. Realizing he was hemmed in, Abhimanyu suddenly leapt high into the air. By his mystic power he remained in the sky. With his golden armor gleaming in the afternoon sun, he appeared like a great eagle as he roved about in the air. He displayed various motions known as the Koriska and others, wheeled about, and brandished his brilliant blue sword. Beneath him, the Kaurava soldiers were filled with fear, expecting him to fall upon them at any moment.
Droṇa gazed up and fixed his aim on Abhimanyu’s sword. With a razor-headed shaft he cut that weapon off at the hilt. At the same time, Karṇa broke apart his shield with four swift shafts. Abhimanyu descended weaponless from the sky and picked up a chariot wheel. Remembering how Kṛṣṇa had run at Bhīṣma holding a chariot wheel, he rushed at Droṇa. Covered in blood, his long hair flying in the wind, and his handsome face covered with dust from the field, the prince was beautiful as he ran with the wheel raised above his head. Even though overpowered and outnumbered, the son of Kṛṣṇa’s sister showed no fear.
As the boy came rapidly toward them with the steel-rimmed wheel, Droṇa and Kṛpa broke it into many pieces with their arrows. Abhimanyu snatched up a heavy mace that lay near him and bounded toward Aśvatthāmā, whirling the mace over his head. Seeing him charging at him like the three-eyed Śiva at the end of the yuga, Aśvatthāmā jumped off his chariot. As he landed on the ground, Abhimanyu’s mace descended like a blazing bolt and smashed the chariot to pieces, killing the horses and charioteer.
With arrows protruding from every part of his body, Abhimanyu whirled about, wielding his mace. In a matter of minutes he slew Śakuni’s brother Kalikeya, along with eighty of his followers. He then slew ten chariot fighters, followed by a dozen elephants and fifty Kekaya warriors. Dushashana’s son, Durjaya, charged on his chariot toward the prince. Abhimanyu quickly brought down his mace from above his head and killed Durjaya’s four horses, pressing them into the earth. Durjaya leapt clear, taking his own mace with him. Landing on the earth near Abhimanyu, he bellowed out a challenge.
Abhimanyu ran straight at Durjaya. The two combatants fought angrily, striking each other with their maces and producing sounds like thunderclaps. Finally, in one wheeling maneuver, they struck each other on the head and fell senseless to the ground.
After a few moments, Durjaya rose and lifted his mace again. Abhimanyu, fatigued from his long fight against so many opponents, slowly rose to his haunches. As he tried to get to his feet, Durjaya struck him on the crown of his head with his full force. Crushed by the blow, Abhimanyu dropped lifeless to the ground. As the Kauravas looked on, he fell backwards to the earth with his limbs thrown out.
Droṇa and the other Kuru chiefs surrounded the fallen prince. He appeared like a wild elephant slain by a hunter. Thousands of troops came around him. They looked on him as if he were a forest fire extinguished after consuming a forest during the summer season, or a tempest that had died down after crushing countless trees. He lay with a peaceful expression on his handsome face, his red eyes gazing up at the sky. Even in death he was as lustrous and splendid as the full moon in autumn.
The Kauravas roared with delight. Their indefatigable opponent was finally brought down. They danced about on the field waving their weapons. Overwhelmed with relief at being delivered from danger, they embraced one another and laughed loudly.
In the sky many ṛṣis and Siddhas looked down on the prince, who seemed to them like the moon dropped from the heavens. They let out cries of woe and exclaimed, “Alas, assailed at once by six Kaurava maharathas, this hero now lies slain. This was highly unfair.”
All around Abhimanyu was a scene of utter destruction. Innumerable men and animals lay slaughtered amid shattered chariots, weapons, armor and ornaments. The field was all but impassable, choked with the dead and the dying. Arms, legs and heads lay all around in a bloody mass. The battlefield assumed an awful appearance, which struck terror into the hearts of cowards.
The sun had reached the western horizon just as the prince was slain. With joy, the Kaurava troops withdrew from the field, leaving Abhimanyu lying amid the carnage he had created.
Hearing the Kauravas’ cheers, Yudhiṣṭhira could guess what had happened. As soon as he saw Jayadratha holding him and his brothers back, he had feared the worst. His fears were confirmed as news of Abhimanyu’s death reached him. Yudhiṣṭhira was distraught. He thought of Arjuna, still contending with the Samshaptakas. Soon he would return. What would he say when he heard that his young son had been sent alone into the chakravyuha? Yudhiṣṭhira trembled. Why had he allowed the boy to go? Only because he feared his own capture. He had caused Abhimanyu’s death. Turning to his other brothers, Yudhiṣṭhira said, “Subhadrā’s heroic son, having never shown his back in battle, has been slain. The child has now ascended to heaven. After slaying numerous warriors, he has followed in their wake. Doubtlessly the boy, who was equal in power to Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, has reached Indra’s opulent mansion.”
Although himself afflicted by grief, Yudhiṣṭhira tried to console his brothers and followers. “We should not grieve for this boy, who performed pious deeds. He has surely attained the regions of righteousness that are ever sought by the virtuous.”
In silent grief the Pāṇḍavas withdrew. As they made their way to their tent, they moved like wooden dolls. They slumped into their seats and sat gazing at the ground. Yudhiṣṭhira wept. “Desiring to please me, the prince penetrated Droṇa’s array like a lion entering a herd of cattle. He forced the best of the Kurus, all accomplished in weapons and fighting, to turn back. After crossing the Kauravas’ ocean-like array, killing many of their heroes, Kṛṣṇa’s nephew has gone to the next world. How can I even look at Arjuna or the auspicious Subhadrā bereft now of their beloved son? What meaningless, disjointed, and incoherent words will we speak to Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna when they return?”
Yudhiṣṭhira held his head in his hands. “Desiring only my own safety, I sent this child into battle. I have thereby injured Subhadrā, Arjuna and Keśava. A foolish man seeks his own gain without seeing the painful consequences that will result. Thus did I act covetously, oblivious to what was sure to happen. How could I have placed that child, who deserved every luxury and indulgence, in the thick of battle? Now he lies slain on the cold earth. We too will soon have to join him, consumed by the grief-laden glances of Arjuna.”
Yudhiṣṭhira’s cries filled the tent. All the warriors and kings present also wept. Abhimanyu had been a great favorite among them. Even though he was only sixteen, he had not hesitated to join his father in the war. His guileless and cheerful attitude had endeared him to everyone.
“Although he was the son of one who could afford protection from the entire celestial host, still he has been killed. Surely now the Kauravas have become afraid. Filled with rage at the unfair killing of his son, Arjuna will annihilate them all. Soon the mean-minded Duryodhana, seeing his forces massacred, will give up his own life in grief. Alas, beholding the incomparable Abhimanyu fallen to earth, I can derive no pleasure either from victory, the kingdom, or even immortality itself.”
As Yudhiṣṭhira lamented, Vyāsadeva suddenly entered the tent. Yudhiṣṭhira composed himself and stood to receive the sage. Along with his brothers, he worshipped him and offered him a fine seat in their midst.
When Vyāsadeva was seated at his ease, Yudhiṣṭhira said, “O great Ṛṣi, Subhadrā’s son has been slain in battle by a number of vicious bowmen who surrounded him on all sides. A mere child, he has been killed while contending with overwhelming numbers. Wishing to do us good, he penetrated the hostile array, but was trapped and slaughtered without mercy while we were held back by the Sindhu king. Alas, my heart has been seized by an unbearable sorrow.”
Vyāsadeva’s reply was gentle. “O King, O son, you possess superior wisdom and should not lament like this. Men of your caliber are never confused by calamity. The heroic Abhimanyu has reached paradise after slaying numerous enemies. His deeds far exceeded his years and he has attained everlasting fame. Why do you grieve? O Yudhiṣṭhira, no creature can violate the law of death. Death takes gods, Gandharvas, Dānavas, and all others away without fail.”
Comforted by Vyāsadeva’s presence, the Pāṇḍavas listened to his soothing words. When he stopped speaking Yudhiṣṭhira said, “So many of the earth’s rulers now lie shorn of pride and power. Striving in battle, filled with hopes of victory, they have fallen into the fire of their enemy’s anger. Now they lie motionless on the earth. Seeing such slaughter we have come to understand the meaning of death. O learned sage, why does death take men away? Wherefrom did death arise? O grandsire, please explain this to us.”
Vyāsadeva closed his eyes. Although he was emaciated and covered with dirt from his continuous austerities, he shone with a mystical effulgence that spread around him like the glow of the moon. Sitting cross-legged on the costly seat, he seemed like a dark gem set in gold. After a few moments, he began to narrate the ancient history of the origin of death in the world--how Brahmā first brought it into being. The sage then told the Pāṇḍavas about the many kings who had succumbed to death in the history of the world, even though they were rich in asceticism and pious merits.
After mentioning each of the departed kings and describing their sacrifices and pious acts, Vyāsadeva concluded, “When such personalities had to die, each of them far superior to the prince in point of piety, you should not lament for the boy. By laying down his life in battle he has gone to regions only attained by those who perform the foremost of sacrifices. There he will reside in unending bliss. No enjoyment in this world would be able to entice him away from where he has now gone, O King. He shines like a god in a splendid new body. We should grieve for those still living rather than those who have attained such an end.”
Vyāsadeva exhorted Yudhiṣṭhira to remain firm and to finish the fight. Grief achieved nothing other than to reduce the energy of those who indulged in it. The sage concluded, “Know this as truth, dear child. Rise up and gird your loins. Having heard about death and about Abhimanyu’s glorious end, give up your lamentation and remain firm in your duty.”
Yudhiṣṭhira asked the sage how Jayadratha had been able to hold him and his brothers in check, and Vyāsadeva told him about Śiva’s boon. “Thus was that weak king able to achieve this astonishing feat. Had it not been for him, you would have followed the boy and saved his life. Destiny is supreme, O King. No man can change fate’s course. Knowing this, take heart and perform your God-given duty. Surely the Lord’s inscrutable will is meant for the world’s welfare. If you simply follow His will, then you will understand everything in time.”
Vyāsadeva stood up and bade the Pāṇḍavas farewell, then disappeared. Yudhiṣṭhira was consoled, but he was still worried how to broach the news to Arjuna. He would be back at any moment. No one would have dared inform him of his son’s death on his way back to the tent. They would leave it to Yudhiṣṭhira to do. The king looked at Abhimanyu’s empty seat, now draped with his banner. Breathing heavily, Yudhiṣṭhira watched the tent entrance as it flapped in the evening breeze.
2.16: Arjuna’s Great Vow
As the sun set, Arjuna asked Kṛṣṇa to drive him back to camp. After slaying thousands of Samshaptakas, he got down from his chariot and, along with Kṛṣṇa, offered prayers to Sandhya, the goddess of twilight. The two friends then mounted the chariot and made their way through the deepening darkness toward Yudhiṣṭhira’s tent. As they traveled Arjuna suddenly felt an inexplicable anxiety. He said, “O Govinda, why am I suddenly feeling misgivings? Why is my speech faltering? I see evil portents all around me and my limbs are becoming weak. I fear a great calamity has occurred. May all be well with the king, my venerable superior, and his followers.”
Driving the chariot expertly through the day’s carnage, Kṛṣṇa replied, “Seeing all these slaughtered Kauravas I think everything fares well with your brothers and ministers. Do not give way to evil thoughts. Probably a trivial calamity has taken place.”
Arjuna, still anxious, tried to accept Kṛṣṇa’s words. He said nothing as the chariot moved across the field. He thought of Droṇa. The preceptor had been intent on capturing Yudhiṣṭhira. Had he succeeded? Arjuna trembled at the thought. If anything had happened to Yudhiṣṭhira, or any of his brothers, he would be unable to live. Even if it were the dead of night he would challenge the entire Kaurava army to come out and fight, and he would exterminate every last one of them.
Within an hour they reached the camp. As they entered its perimeters, Arjuna looked around and said, “O Janārdana, I do not hear the auspicious sounds of drums and other instruments signifying our success. The bards and minstrels are not singing songs describing our victories. Everyone is turning their faces away when they see me. No one has come forward to salute me in the usual way. O Madhava, is everything well with my brothers? Seeing these men so obviously distressed, my mind is disturbed. Is Drupada well? Has the Virata ruler encountered a calamity? O you of undeteriorating glory, what has happened to our warriors?”
Then Arjuna began to suspect the truth. Abhimanyu had always greeted him when he returned to camp, but today there was no sign of the boy. On his way back he had heard from some of his soldiers that Droṇa had formed the chakravyuha. He knew there were only two warriors on the field who could break into the array: Abhimanyu and himself.
Arriving at the royal tent, Arjuna dismounted and went in with Kṛṣṇa by his side. As he entered, he saw his brothers sitting with downcast faces. No one said anything as Arjuna walked in. They could not hold his gaze and shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Then Arjuna saw his son’s empty seat. His heart stopped. He approached Yudhiṣṭhira and bowed at his feet. Standing, he looked into his brother’s downcast face. “O King, you are pale. I also see that Abhimanyu is not here, nor does anyone welcome me. I heard that today the Kauravas formed the chakravyuha. Save and except Abhimanyu, no one could have penetrated that formation in my absence, but he did not know how to get out of it. Did you ask my son to enter that terrible arrangement? Has that fierce bowman, that slayer of hostile heroes, after breaking into the enemy ranks and killing thousands, gone himself to Death’s mansion?”
Arjuna began to cry. Falling to his knees, he cried out to Yudhiṣṭhira in a piteous voice. “Tell me how he fell, he who possessed mighty arms and red eyes, who was born into our race like a lion born on a mountainside and who resembled Indra himself. How was he slain in battle?”
Arjuna saw tears in Yudhiṣṭhira’s eyes. His own eyes flooded as he realized what he had feared most was true. Yudhiṣṭhira’s silence confirmed it. Taking a deep breath, Arjuna fought to control his mind. His head fell to his knees and he sobbed. After a few minutes, he looked up and continued in a broken voice. “What foolish warriors, urged on by evil destiny, ventured to slay my son? How has that youth, who resembled the high-souled Kṛṣṇa Himself in prowess, generosity and Vedic knowledge, been killed? If I do not see that hero, who is my second self, Keśava’s favorite, and so dearly loved by Kṛṣṇa’s sister, then I too will become a guest in Yamarāja’s abode. If I cannot behold him, that modest boy of gentle speech and kind deeds, with curling dark locks, eyes like a young gazelle, the tread of a furious elephant, and shoulders like a mighty lion, then I will leave at once for Death’s limitless domain.”
Kṛṣṇa stood by Arjuna’s side and placed an arm around his shoulders. The Pāṇḍava grieved loudly for some time, describing his son’s many qualities. His brothers and allies sat in silence, their hearts riven by grief as he continued.
“Although younger, that boy was my superior. He was virtuous, grateful, obedient to his elders, and always desirous of doing us good. Self-controlled and sinless, he pursued only the path of piety and truth. He was faithful and devoted to serving God in all his acts. In battle he would never strike first, nor would he attack a helpless foe. He was the terror of his enemies and the shelter of his friends. How has such a boy been slain?”
Arjuna fell to the ground, repeatedly crying out his son’s name. Composing himself with difficulty, he said, “Today my son lies on the bare earth like one forlorn, although he was always attended by the most beautiful women. He who was formerly attended by servants and bards chanting his glories is now attended by jackals and vultures. His face, which was worthy of being shaded by royal umbrellas, is now shaded by dust and dirt. Alas! How unfortunate I am to lose you, and how fortunate are the gods to gain you. Surely Yamarāja, Indra, Kuvera and Varuṇa, after receiving you as a welcome guest, are now making preparations for your worship.”
Arjuna looked up at Yudhiṣṭhira, who looked back at his brother with compassion. His eyes bloodshot and his face streaked with tears, Arjuna asked, “Please tell me, O best of men, has my son gone to heaven? Did he have to contend single-handedly with numerous heroes and give up his life after killing them by the thousands? Surely he would have thought of me. Afflicted by the mean-minded Duryodhana, and by Droṇa, Karṇa, Kṛpa and others, he must have thought, ‘My father will rescue me.’ I think all those ruthless warriors felled him while he was calling out to me. Or it may be, as he was conceived in the womb of a Vrishni princess, that he did not make such exclamations.”
Arjuna censured himself. How had he allowed himself to be taken away from the main fight? Obviously Duryodhana had concocted a plan that required his absence. Why had he not seen it? If he had, Abhimanyu would still be alive. Without thinking about his kinsmen’s welfare, he had rushed off desiring glory in battle. Now his son was dead.
Arjuna cried out, “Without doubt, my heart is made of stone that it does not shatter into fragments. It will surely break apart when I hear the lamentations of Subhadrā and Draupadī. What will I say to those gentle ladies? How can I tell them that Abhimanyu now embraces the cold ground, weltering in his own blood? What indeed will I say to Uttarā, his chaste and beautiful wife? The Kauravas may rejoice only for as long as I do not return to the field. For slaying my son they will have to grieve as I do now.”
Arjuna turned to Kṛṣṇa. “Why did You not tell me what was happening today, O Madhava? Surely then I would have burnt the cruel Kauravas immediately. How could they aim their deadly shafts at such a tender boy, attacking him when I was absent? I do not think he found any protector while among those vicious men. How could You allow this, O Kṛṣṇa?”
Kṛṣṇa comforted his friend with sober words. “Do not give way to grief. This is the inevitable end of heroes who never think of retreating. Those who know the Vedas have said that this is the highest and most desirable goal for a kṣatriya who knows his duty. Heroes always covet such an end. There is no better death for a warrior than to fall in battle while facing the enemy. Undoubtedly Abhimanyu has gone to regions only reached by the most pious men. Do not lament, for you are plunging your brothers and followers in sorrow. You know everything and it behooves you to console your kinsmen at this time. Take hold of yourself and throw off this grief.”
Arjuna turned slowly to Yudhiṣṭhira. “O lord of the earth, tell me exactly how my lotus-eyed son was slain.” His voice had become cold. His grief was giving way to an intense fury. “How did he fight our wicked foes? I will consume all of them with their elephants, chariots and horses. Why, O brother, did you not do so yourself? How was my son slain when you, Bhīma, the twins, and so many other heroes were present? Surely you all possess no prowess. Before your eyes my son was killed.”
Arjuna gazed at his son’s empty seat. What was the use in blaming anyone for Abhimanyu’s death? Destiny had willed it, as it willed the death of every living creature. Yet still it was hard not to see how things might have been different. Why had he not been by Abhimanyu’s side when he needed him most? Arjuna shook his head as he continued. “I should rather blame myself. Knowing you all to be cowards, I went away. Alas, are your weapons and armor mere decorations? Are your bold words meant only to impress an assembly? All of you together could not protect my son.”
No one spoke as Arjuna strode over to his seat, his long sword swinging by his side, the Gāṇḍīva in his hand. His eyes blazed and hot tears ran down his cheeks. He sighed repeatedly. No one dared to look at him. Only Yudhiṣṭhira and Kṛṣṇa, who were always agreeable to Arjuna, were able to say anything. After a few moments Yudhiṣṭhira said, “O mighty-armed one, when you had gone to fight the Samshaptakas, Droṇa exerted himself to capture me. He formed the unbreakable chakravyuha and advanced toward us, showering his fire-like shafts in all directions. At that time, I asked your son to penetrate the formation and allow us all to enter. Without delay the boy rushed forward and entered the array like Garuḍa entering the ocean. We followed him with upraised weapons, but somehow the puny Sindhu ruler held us in check. We have since heard from Vyāsadeva that Jayadratha received a boon from Mahadeva that he would be able to stop us in battle. Your son was alone in the formation. Six Kaurava maharathas surrounded him. They destroyed his chariot, armor and weapons. Worn with fatigue, he was finally slain by a seventh, Dushashana’s son.”
Arjuna wailed. Yudhiṣṭhira paused, then went on. “Before dying, he slew countless heroes, many of them kings and maharathas. Now he has ascended to heaven. Through the inscrutable workings of fate, he has attained his destined end. Thus we have all been plunged into a burning grief.”
Crying out, “O my son!” Arjuna rolled on the ground. Everyone gazed at each other with vacant eyes. They said nothing as Arjuna expressed his grief. Gradually, he composed himself and got to his feet. Shivering as if with fever and wringing his hands, he spoke in a low, controlled voice that seethed with rage. “I say this truly: tomorrow I will slay Jayadratha, if indeed he does not forsake Duryodhana in fear of his life. If he stays in the battle and does not seek shelter of either Kṛṣṇa or yourself, O King, he will die tomorrow. Whoever tries to protect him--be it Droṇa, Kṛpa or anyone else--will find himself struck down by my arrows. That Sindhu ruler caused my son’s death. For this act of violence toward Abhimanyu and I, he will die.”
Arjuna felt all his anger directed toward Jayadratha, who had already shown himself to be a despicable wretch when he had assaulted Draupadī. This time he would not escape. Although Abhimanyu was assailed by six Kaurava warriors at once and finally slain by Durjaya, it was Jayadratha who was to blame. Many times warriors found themselves overwhelmed by superior odds, but their allies and supporters could always come to their rescue. Abhimanyu would surely have been saved if the Pāṇḍavas had been able to reach him. Jayadratha’s act was mean and unforgivable. Arjuna clasped his Gāṇḍīva tightly. Soon that low-minded Sindhu ruler would reap the result of his hatred for the Pāṇḍavas.
Looking around at his brothers and allies, Arjuna went on. “If I do not kill that wretch tomorrow, then may I never attain the regions meant for the righteous. Let me instead go to the hell reached by those who ravish their own mothers, or those who are malicious, ungrateful or miserly. Let me reach the dark worlds inhabited by rapists, slayers of Brahmins, betrayers of trust, men who seduce other’s wives, who are unkind to guests, and who deceive and cheat others. If I do not kill Jayadratha tomorrow, then such will be my end.”
Arjuna’s voice seemed to shake the earth. “Now listen to one more vow I will make. If I do not slay Jayadratha by sunset tomorrow, I will enter blazing fire. Neither the celestials, Asuras, mortals, winged creatures, Rākṣasas, ṛṣis, nor any other moving or unmoving creature will prevent me from achieving my aim. If Jayadratha enters the nether regions or somehow ascends to heaven, I will still find him and sever his head from his body. When this night passes away, Abhimanyu’s enemy will see me as his death personified wherever he goes.”
After solemnly speaking these words, Arjuna violently twanged his bowstring, producing sounds that reached the heavens. At the same time, Kṛṣṇa, also excited with rage, blew His conch shell, creating a sound that seemed to make the universe vibrate.
As word of Arjuna’s vow got round the camp, the sounds of numerous drums and other instruments could be heard, along with the fierce cries of many warriors. The whole camp was filled with a joyous uproar. Surely the next day the Kauravas would face their worst calamity so far. The enraged Arjuna was a foe to be feared indeed.
* * *
In the Kauravas’ camp there was much rejoicing. Abhimanyu was one of the greatest warriors among the Pāṇḍava army. It was almost as if Arjuna himself had been slain. Surely Arjuna would now be discouraged and lose his taste for battle. Now that yet another of his sons was slain--this time the beloved Abhimanyu--Arjuna’s energy would be sapped by grief. Duryodhana praised Droṇa and sat in his assembly to discuss the next day’s strategy. It should prove easier to encounter their dispirited enemies. Perhaps the same formation could be employed again. Maybe another powerful fighter could be trapped and slain.
As the Kauravas were speaking, they heard the din from the Pāṇḍavas’ camp, reverberating like the roar of the ocean. The Kauravas looked at each other in surprise. Why would the Pāṇḍavas be rejoicing? Should they not be feeling despair?
Suddenly Jayadratha burst into the tent. His face was a mask of terror. He stood panting before Duryodhana, sweat running down his face. The Kaurava chief saw him trembling like a sapling in a storm. He asked him the cause of his fear and Jayadratha replied, “He who was begotten on Pāṇḍu’s wife by the lustful Indra, that one of perverse intellect, has vowed to kill me tomorrow. May good betide you all; I will now return to my home to save my life. Or, if you wish me to remain, you had better assure my safety. In my view, O King, you, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Karṇa, and all the other rulers here are capable of saving a man who is seized by Death himself.”
Jayadratha looked around the assembly with wild eyes. His boon from Śiva could well prove to be his destruction. He had enjoyed his moment of glory, but now as a result he faced the most deadly danger. Arjuna was famous for keeping his vows, and he would now be angry. The Sindhu king continued. “Having heard the Pāṇḍavas’ rejoicings, I am struck with anxiety. Our spies have told me that Arjuna has vowed either to kill me tomorrow or to enter fire. Thus the Pāṇḍavas are filled with joy rather than grief. I think it will be wisest for me to return to my own country. No one can prevent Arjuna from fulfilling his vow, not even the gods. We are about to suffer the greatest destruction of our forces yet. Let me now go, my identity concealed.”
Duryodhana laughed. “O foremost of men, do not be afraid. What person can seek to slay you when you stand amid the kṣatriyas assembled here? I will protect you, along with Droṇa, Kṛpa, Karṇa, Aśvatthāmā, Śalya, Bāhlika, and the other invincible heroes. Together with our troops we will stand between you and Arjuna. He will not even be able to get near you tomorrow. Drive the fear from your heart.”
Duryodhana realized that it would be a formidable task to check Arjuna from fulfilling his vow. At the same time, this was a real opportunity to attain victory. If Arjuna failed, he would certainly remember his promise to take his own life. With both Abhimanyu and Arjuna dead, the Pāṇḍavas would then be finished. Duryodhana looked down at the quaking Jayadratha. It would be worth deploying the whole army to protect him.
Jayadratha went over to Droṇa. “What is the difference between me and Arjuna in the proficiency of arms? You have taught us both. How is Arjuna superior to me? Of what should I be wary when the battle comes tomorrow?”
Droṇa replied, “I have taught both you and Arjuna equally, but by his practice of yoga and asceticism, he has become superior to you. Still, I will do everything in my power to protect you from him. Tomorrow I will form such an array with all our troops that Arjuna will never reach its end. Even the gods will not be able to pass the arrangement I will create to protect you.”
Droṇa smiled. Jayadratha had only himself to blame for his present predicament. Like Duryodhana, his hatred for the virtuous Pāṇḍavas would lead to his destruction before long. He placed a hand on Jayadratha’s shoulder. “If somehow you should be slain, then you will attain heaven. Do not be afraid of death. You have performed sacrifices and carried out your sacred duty as a kṣatriya. Therefore, fight without fear, your mind fixed on victory or paradise.”
Although he assured Jayadratha and understood Duryodhana’s mind, Droṇa knew that Jayadratha was as good as dead. Certainly Arjuna alone would not be able to cross the entire Kaurava army, but Arjuna was not alone. With Kṛṣṇa driving his chariot, he could cross the universe, passing the four Lokapālas in order to steal the gods’ divine nectar. Even without fighting, Kṛṣṇa would no doubt find some way to protect His friend. And he would need to, for the Pāṇḍava hero would face an almost impossible task the next day.
Cheered on by Droṇa, the warriors shouted and blew their conches. The Kaurava leaders began to plan their strategy for the following day. Jayadratha felt his fear vanish and he set his heart on battle. Perhaps Arjuna’s vow would be a blessing in disguise. Śiva’s boon may yet prove to be a boon indeed if it ended up causing the Pāṇḍavas’ destruction.
* * *
After hearing Arjuna make his vow, the Pāṇḍavas and their followers spent a little while discussing their strategy and then retired for the night. They would decide the next day’s battle plans in the morning, after they received information from their spies as to how the Kauravas were reacting to the news of Arjuna’s promise.
Arjuna sat alone in his tent, burning with grief and anger. He could hardly wait for the battle to begin. For over an hour he sat on his bed without moving, his face covered by his two hands. As he sat shedding tears, Kṛṣṇa came in and sat down by his side. He spoke softly, but reproachfully. “O Pārtha, without first seeking My advice you have made a difficult vow. That was rash. You have placed a heavy burden on your shoulders. Alas, how will we avoid becoming the butt of ridicule? I have heard from spies that Droṇa vows to protect Jayadratha. He will form a tremendous array guarded on all sides by the best of the Kauravas. Six mighty maharathas, namely, Karṇa, Aśvatthāmā, Bhurisrava, Kṛpa, Vrishasena and Śalya, will stand in the van of that array. Droṇa himself will stay within a secondary formation, Jayadratha by his side. You will first need to vanquish those six heroes and pass through a thick array of fighters before you can come anywhere near the Sindhu king. Then you will have to fight with the preceptor.”
Arjuna did not reply. Kṛṣṇa placed an arm around his shoulder. “In the morning we will consult with your brothers and allies. We need to come up with a strategy to ensure that your vow can be kept. However, O son of Pāṇḍu, it will not be easy to accomplish.”
Arjuna lifted his head. His voice was almost a growl. “The six chariot fighters you have named are not equal to even half of my power. You will see me cut apart all their weapons. The Sindhu ruler is a dead man. Before the eyes of his wailing followers and of Droṇa I will sever his head from his body. Even if a celestial army headed by all the principal gods protects him, even if I must fight against the personified oceans, mountains, heaven, earth, quarters, their regents, and all mobile and immobile beings, still You will see him slain by my arrows. I swear by truth itself that nothing will stop me. Especially with You at my side, O Janārdana, my success is certain.”
Arjuna continued expressing his determination and confidence for several minutes. He was prepared to face even Death personified armed with his irresistible staff. “Tomorrow You will see me rip open the enemy ranks with blazing shafts, like thunderbolts rending a mountain. Arrows shot with the speed of the mind will fall by the tens of thousands from my Gāṇḍīva. I will not restrain myself at all. All men will witness the power of the weapons I have obtained from Yamarāja, Kuvera, Varuṇa, Indra and Maheśvara. I will throw the Brahmā missile and annihilate anyone who tries to stand in my way. The earth will be filled with the bodies of men, horses and elephants, all bleeding copiously and deprived of life.”
Arjuna got to his feet and stood before Kṛṣṇa with the Gāṇḍīva clasped in his hand. His face was flushed and his lips trembled. “The sinful Jayadratha has forgotten his kinship with us and bears us only hatred. I will strike him down tomorrow, making his friends and followers grieve.”
Arjuna ached for the battle to begin. His arrows seemed ready to leap from his quivers and the Gāṇḍīva vibrated in his hand. He could not understand Kṛṣṇa’s apprehension. What possibility was there of the Kauravas standing against him in his present mood? He placed his bow in its golden case. Unfastening his gleaming armor, he asked, “O lord, master of the senses, why do You admonish me? You know my prowess and You know Your own power. When we are together, what are we not able to achieve? Jayadratha may be counted among those already slain in battle. I am Arjuna, of unwavering vows, and you are Nārāyaṇa. Truth resides in the Brahmins, humility is seen in the pious, prosperity attends sacrifice, and victory, O Keśava, is always with You. When this night has passed, You should ready my chariot, filling it with every weapon. A great task is at hand.”
Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa sat together breathing like a pair of infuriated serpents. Afflicted by grief, Arjuna felt unable to rest. Kṛṣṇa also displayed great sorrow. While the Pāṇḍavas had been in the forest He had helped raise Abhimanyu, acting as a loving father toward His nephew. The boy had always been with Him. Kṛṣṇa had personally taught him many of his martial skills, and they had often hunted and sported together in the forests around Dwārakā.
Seeing both Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa excited with rage, the gods headed by Indra became anxious. Surely the universe might be destroyed if they both gave vent to their anger. Many ill omens were seen. Dry winds blew, thunder rumbled in the clear sky, and thunderbolts fell to earth. The earth trembled and rivers flowed backwards, while the cries of jackals and crows echoed everywhere.
Arjuna asked Kṛṣṇa to go to the women’s quarters and console Subhadrā. The Vrishni princess, along with Draupadī and other royal ladies, had come to the battlefield to be with their husbands. Kṛṣṇa went to her tent and found her lying on the ground, weeping like a female osprey. Taking a seat near her, He spoke consolingly. “O daughter of the Vrishni race, do not give way to this grief. Abhimanyu has met the end always sought by heroes. After slaying the enemy by the thousands, he has ascended to the highest regions of heaven. Although a mere youth, he has attained a destination difficult to reach even for accomplished yogīs. Surely this is his good fortune. O amiable one, you are the wife of a hero, the daughter of a hero, and the mother of a hero. Born also into a race of heroes, you should not lament one who has met a hero’s death. Nor will his death go unavenged. Tomorrow you will hear that Arjuna has severed Jayadratha’s head from his trunk. Rise up and renounce your fever of grief. You must now console your daughter-in-law, beloved sister.”
Subhadrā looked at Kṛṣṇa from where she lay. Her eyes were red and her face streaked with mascara. Her ornaments were strewn around her on the floor. Nearby her garland lay crushed. Her words were frequently interrupted by sobs.
“Alas, son of my unfortunate self, why did you go to war? O son, equal to Arjuna in battle, how could you perish? How can I see your dark and handsome face now soiled with dust and smeared with blood as you lay on the cold ground? Having the Pāṇḍavas, Vrishnis and Pañchālas as your protectors, by whom have you been slain like one helpless? Fie on Bhīma’s strength, Arjuna’s prowess, and the Pañchālas’ might! What use is their power when they could not save a child from dying before their eyes? Today I see the earth vacant and destitute of all beauty for I cannot see my son. My eyes are blinded by grief and my mind is utterly confounded. O my child! You were like a hoard of treasure seen and lost in a dream. Alas, everything in this world is fleeting and unreal, like foam on an ocean.”
Kṛṣṇa remained silent as His sister poured out her sorrow. She tossed about on the costly carpet covering the floor of her tent. Her silk garments were in disarray and her raven-black hair hung loose and disheveled. Beating her breast, Subhadrā cried out to her slain son. “O my child, how shall I comfort Uttarā? Overwhelmed by sorrow she resembles a cow bereft of its calf. Surely the ways of destiny are mysterious, for even though you had Keśava as your protector, you have been slain by evil men. O beloved son, may you attain that end reached only by the most pious men, that end which is reached by those of the strictest vows, who are self-controlled, modest, truthful, charitable, and devoted to duty. May you ascend to the eternal regions that belong to men who are faithful and always devoted to the Lord’s service, who have given up all selfish thoughts and live only for the welfare of others.”
As Subhadrā rolled about in grief, Draupadī came into her tent, accompanied by Uttarā. Also lamenting, they dropped to the ground next to Subhadrā. The three ladies appeared like three mad creatures as they fell about uttering pitiful cries.
With tears in His eyes Kṛṣṇa sprinkled cool water on their faces, His voice shaking as He addressed them. “O Subhadrā, throw off this grief. O Pāñcālī, O Uttarā, take heart. O most beautiful ladies, rather than lament we should pray that all the members of our race attain the same state that Abhimanyu has attained. All other warriors united can only dream of achieving the feats he has single-handedly accomplished in battle.”
Kṛṣṇa took His leave from the ladies and went back to Arjuna’s tent. It was past midnight and the servants had spread out an auspicious bed of kusha grass decorated with flower garlands and sprinkled with perfume on a thick rug. With His weapons by His side, Kṛṣṇa reclined peacefully, placing His head on His arm. Within the tent Brahmins performed the usual nightly ceremony of offering the victims of battle to Śiva, so that he might guide them safely to their next destination.
Arjuna worshiped Kṛṣṇa with various offerings, then lay next to Him on his own bed. Kṛṣṇa said, “O son of Pṛthā, rest now. You will have to achieve tremendous feats tomorrow.”
Arjuna was assuaged by Kṛṣṇa’s care. He lay gazing up at the high roof of the tent. His mind flickered between thinking of Abhimanyu and thinking of Jayadratha. That sinful wretch should have been slain long ago when he first insulted Draupadī. This time Yudhiṣṭhira would not protect him. He would soon taste the fruits of his wicked inclinations. As Arjuna lay thinking in this way, he fell into a fitful sleep.
2.17: Arjuna Slaughters the Kauravas
Some time before sunrise on the thirteenth day of battle, Yudhiṣṭhira rose from his bed, awoken by bards and minstrels singing his praises. Melodious songs were played as the Pāṇḍava king performed his ablutions, assisted by a hundred servants who fetched water in golden jars as well as soaps, unguents, perfumes and other items. His limbs were daubed with pure sandalwood paste as Brahmins chanted holy Vedic mantras. Servants then brought Yudhiṣṭhira his fine white garments and adorned him with fragrant lotus and champaka flower garlands.
Having bathed and dressed, the king faced east and worshipped Kṛṣṇa with Vedic prayers, his heart absorbed in love. After this he went before the sacred fire and made offerings to Viṣṇu and the gods, invoking auspiciousness and praying for victory in battle.
Emerging from his tent, Yudhiṣṭhira saw a number of aged and venerable Brahmins. The old sages, a thousand in number, were accompanied by a further eight thousand disciples. They uttered benedictions and blessed Yudhiṣṭhira, who distributed charity to them. The king gave away jars of gold to each of the Brahmins, as well as cows, horses, cloth, honey, ghee, fruits, and other valuable items.
Then he entered the council chamber. He sat upon a throne made entirely of gold and covered with a precious silk carpet. When he had taken his seat, his orderlies came and decorated him with ornaments of pearl, gold, and priceless gems. The monarch shone like a mass of clouds emitting bright flashes of lightning. He was fanned by gold-handled yak-tail whisks as white as the moon. Bards again sang his praises and the music and voices of the Gandharvas could be heard in the sky. Outside the tent a tremendous clatter of chariot wheels and horses’ hooves resounded as the other kings and warriors came to council. Conch-shell blasts filled the air, and the measured march of infantry seemed to shake the earth as the troops headed for the field.
As the kings took their places in Yudhiṣṭhira’s council chamber after first bowing before him, a guard informed him that Kṛṣṇa had arrived. Yudhiṣṭhira ordered that He be shown in immediately and offered a fine seat by his side. He personally stepped down from his throne as Kṛṣṇa entered and showed Him to His seat. Taking the offering of arghya held out by a Brahmin, Yudhiṣṭhira performed the worship. Kṛṣṇa waved to Sātyaki to sit with Him, and the two Yādavas shared the same large throne next to Yudhiṣṭhira.
When he had again taken his seat, Yudhiṣṭhira began by addressing Kṛṣṇa. “O Madhusudana, have You passed the night in happiness? Like celestials relying on the thousand-eyed Indra, we depend on You alone for victory and indeed for eternal happiness. Our very existence depends upon You. If it pleases You, therefore, we ask that You somehow manage things so that Arjuna’s vow is fulfilled. Help us to cross this ocean of grief and wrath. O Madhava, become our raft so that we do not sink in the vast Kuru sea. All glories to You, O Kṛṣṇa, O Viṣṇu, O Hari, O Janārdana. You are the foremost of all men. Nārada has pronounced You to be the best and most ancient of all beings. You always protect Your surrendered servants, and we seek Your protection today.”
Kṛṣṇa appeared pleased as Yudhiṣṭhira stopped speaking. He replied in a sonorous voice, “In all the worlds, including the heavens, there is no archer like Arjuna. That handsome hero will slay all your enemies. I will drive his chariot and will do everything in My power to assist him. Today you will see Jayadratha compelled to travel that road from which no traveler ever returns. Vultures, hawks and jackals will feast on his flesh tonight. O Yudhiṣṭhira, even if Indra and the gods come to his aid, he will still be delivered to Death’s domain. Tonight, the victorious Arjuna will report to you that he has slain the Sindhu monarch. Dismiss your grief and be attended with prosperity, O King.”
As Kṛṣṇa spoke, Arjuna entered the assembly. He came and bowed before Yudhiṣṭhira, who immediately stood to embrace him. Still holding his brother, Yudhiṣṭhira said, “It is evident, O Dhanajaya, that you will have a great victory today. Your appearance at this moment portends it, as does Kṛṣṇa’s infallible blessing.”
Arjuna touched his brother’s feet and went over to Kṛṣṇa, bowing low with folded palms. He then took his seat and the Pāṇḍavas discussed the day’s strategy. They had heard from their spies of Droṇa’s plans to create a formation surrounding Jayadratha, protected at every point by the foremost warriors. Deciding upon a suitable counter-array, the Pāṇḍavas got up and went out for the battle.
Kṛṣṇa fetched Arjuna’s chariot and equipped it with every kind of weapon. Dressed in effulgent gold armor, He drove the chariot to the royal tent. Arjuna came out and circumambulated the chariot with his Gāṇḍīva in hand. He then mounted the chariot like the sun rising over the eastern mountains. Sātyaki climbed aboard with him and the chariot moved off. Setting out to slay Jayadratha, Arjuna appeared like Indra accompanied by Varuṇa and Sūrya setting out to kill the Asuras.
Countless musical instruments rang out, while bards and Brahmins sang Arjuna’s glories and uttered benedictions. Hearing the chants and cheered by the other warriors as he went toward the battlefield, Arjuna felt confident and eager for the fight. From behind him a delightful breeze blew, bearing the fragrance of celestial blossoms.
Arjuna said to Sātyaki, “I think my victory today is assured. These signs all around us point to it and my mind feels enthused. I will soon penetrate to the spot where Jayadratha stands, passing through all the heroes who desire to see my prowess and then go to Yamarāja’s domain. O mighty-armed one, do not forget your prime duty to protect Yudhiṣṭhira. None can vanquish you in battle, and the king is as safe with you as he is with me. With you by his side, I will be able to attack Jayadratha with a peaceful mind.”
Sātyaki said that he would not leave Yudhiṣṭhira as far as he was able. The two heroes continued to talk as Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot toward the Kurukṣetra plain, where millions of men had already assembled for the battle.
* * *
As sunrise approached, Droṇa issued orders for his great formation. Calling for Jayadratha he said, “I will detail Karṇa to stand by your side. He will be supported by my own son, as well as Śalya, Kṛpa and Vrishasena. They will have with them a force of one hundred thousand horsemen, sixty thousand chariots, twenty thousand infantry, and fourteen thousand elephants. This detachment, with you in its midst, will form itself into an array shaped like a needle. The formation will be protected by a second, impenetrable array in the shape of a lotus. I will be at the head of that second formation. The king and his brothers, as well as numerous other powerful warriors, will stand in that array. At the front of these two formations I will create a semi-circular array filled with warriors who will not retreat. At the foremost point before that will be an array resembling a cart, which will serve to draw in and capture any soldiers foolish enough to assail us from that direction. Indeed, I do not think that even Śakra, thunderbolt in hand, could reach you today.”
Comforted, Jayadratha made his way to his position in the army. As he passed through the troops they shouted out their battle cries. “Where is Arjuna?” they cried. “Bring Bhīma here, I am ready to do battle!” The warriors whirled their polished maces and brandished their swords. Maddened with pride, they roared tumultuously. They slapped their arms and blew their conches, proceeding swiftly and joyfully toward the battlefield.
Gradually, carefully following Droṇa’s detailed directions, the Kauravas formed themselves into the strategic array he had designed. It stretched for miles and appeared like a collection of clouds covering the earth. The wonderful configuration appeared so formidable that no one could imagine penetrating it. At its rear stood Jayadratha, heavily guarded on all sides.
Droṇa, clad in a coat of white mail and a beautiful turban, moved about making the final arrangements. Seeing his shining chariot, with its crimson horses and its standard bearing the mark of a Brahmin’s waterpot and deerskin, the Kauravas were delighted.
In the sky the Siddhas and Cāraṇas looked down with wonder at the Kauravas, spread out in their tremendous formation. “Surely they will devour the whole earth with its mountains, oceans and forests.”
Duryodhana looked at his army with satisfaction. He still had many infantry, chariots, cavalry and elephants left. He gazed across at the advancing Pāṇḍava forces. How would Arjuna ever fulfill his vow? His promise had been rash. By sunset the war would be over. Taking up his ornate bow, Duryodhana ordered his charioteer to move off, eager for the battle to begin.
As the Pāṇḍavas approached their enemies they saw Droṇa’s formation with amazement. It seemed to have no end and it appeared like the ocean rolling across the battlefield toward them. Undaunted, Arjuna said, “O Kṛṣṇa, just see Droṇa’s attempt to thwart my vow. The front lines are at least twenty miles across, and it must be twice that distance deep. But I will seek out its weak points and break it apart with fiery arrows. Before Droṇa’s eyes I will cut down the sinful Jayadratha.”
As the two armies converged, one of Duryodhana’s brothers, Durmarshana, came to the front of the Kauravas. Roaring furiously he exclaimed, “Watch as I check Arjuna, like the shore resisting the ocean. Let everyone see the irate and indominatable Dhanañjaya collide with me, like one mass of rocks colliding with another. O warriors, stay or turn back as you wish. I will fight with the Pāṇḍavas alone to enhance my glory and fame.”
Durmarshana rushed across the field to begin the fight. He saw Arjuna’s chariot at a distance, with Hanumān sitting on its towering standard. The roars of the celestial ape could be heard throughout the Kaurava forces. They mingled with the sounds of Arjuna’s conch, which he blew repeatedly as he closed upon his foes. Both sounds filled the Kauravas’ hearts with anxiety as they again remembered how fiercely Arjuna fought when he was angry. Droṇa had his musicians strike up cheering melodies, but a deafening clamor already filled the field.
Arjuna saw Durmarshana charging at him and he said, “Drive swiftly toward the Kaurava prince, O Madhava. I will meet his challenge and send him and all his followers reeling.”
Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot straight into the mouth of the cart formation at the Kauravas’ head. As Arjuna faced Durmarshana he was immediately surrounded by thousands of chariot fighters. Thinking of his son he began to slay them mercilessly. Worked up to the highest pitch of fury, he scattered his shafts in all directions. The opposing warriors’ heads fell like lotuses torn from their stems. Gold armor spattered with blood lay gleaming on the ground. Chariots were smashed, elephants slain, and horses deprived of their riders. Headless infantrymen ran about wildly, still clutching their swords, before falling lifeless to the earth.
After a brief fight, Durmarshana was routed and put to flight. Wounded all over his body, his armor shattered and standard broken, he raced away from his enemy. Arjuna spared his life only to honor Bhīma’s vow.
In a short time Arjuna had slain several thousand of his foes. His chariot hurtled about with such speed that the Kaurava troops felt there were hundreds of Arjunas. In their fear and confusion, they struck and killed each other. Crying in agony and steeped in blood, many heroes lay dying on the field. Whoever came toward Arjuna soon found himself pierced by a fatal shaft. No one could detect any weakness in him as he danced on the terrace of his chariot, his bow always drawn to a circle. Kṛṣṇa’s driving was unrivalled and He constantly thwarted the Kauravas’ attacks.
Droṇa and the other Kaurava chiefs were astonished to see Arjuna annihilating their troops, even as the sun destroys darkness. The killing of Abhimanyu had clearly turned him into a different person. He had been formidable before, but now he was fighting with a frenzied passion, showing no quarter. The warriors surrounding him broke and ran.
Seeing Arjuna pressing steadily through the Kaurava ranks, Dushashana came forward on his chariot and challenged him. He was supported by a mighty division of elephants that quickly surrounded Arjuna. The tuskers had large bells around their necks which clanged as they raced about the field.
Arjuna sent up a fierce war cry and began to kill the elephants with winged arrows that pierced their tough hides. Like a killer whale plunging through the ocean, he penetrated the elephant division and brought them down one after another. He struck each elephant with a hundred shafts and they fell like cliffs broken by thunderbolts. Gushing streams of blood, they dropped, screaming, to the ground. The warriors fighting on their backs were swept off by Arjuna’s shafts, which penetrated two or three of them at once.
Seeing the elephant force in disarray, Dushashana fled. It was impossible to face Arjuna in his present mood. The Kaurava raced up to Droṇa and sought his protection. Droṇa licked his lips and moved through his forces toward Arjuna. Seeing his preceptor advancing upon him with upraised weapons, Arjuna folded his palms and bowed his head. He called out, “O Brahmin, wish me well and bless me. I desire to pass through this impenetrable array. You are the same to me as my own father, or as Yudhiṣṭhira or Kṛṣṇa. Thus even as Aśvatthāmā deserves your protection, so do I. Let me pass. I wish to slay the Sindhu ruler. O lord, O best of men, see to it that my vow is fulfilled.”
“O Bhibatsu, you will not be able to conquer Jayadratha without first defeating me.”
Droṇa then shot a hundred arrows at Arjuna in swift succession. The Pāṇḍava skillfully countered them and replied with a hundred of his own. Droṇa warded off Arjuna’s attack with ease and at once pierced both him and Kṛṣṇa with shafts resembling blazing tongues of fire. He cut Arjuna’s bowstring and covered his chariot with arrows. Arjuna attacked him back with six hundred arrows fired with such speed that it appeared as if he had shot only one shaft. He followed that with another seven hundred, then a thousand, then ten thousand, training them on the warriors who supported Droṇa.
Seeing him again slaying large numbers of the Kaurava troops, Droṇa pierced Arjuna’s chest with a powerful barbed arrow. Hit hard by that shaft, Arjuna trembled like a mountain during an earthquake. Quickly regaining his composure, he broke off the arrow which was embedded in his armor. He focused his attention on Droṇa and sent showers of arrows at him. Droṇa replied by covering Arjuna with shafts. Neither Arjuna nor Kṛṣṇa nor their chariot was visible as Droṇa assailed them with countless arrows, which fell in unbroken lines.
Working hard, Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot away from Droṇa’s arrows. As the chariot came clear of the attack he said, “O Pārtha, there is no time to waste. Jayadratha still stands a great distance from here. This battle with Droṇa could go on all day. Leave him aside and proceed ahead with all speed.”
Arjuna realized that Kṛṣṇa was right. There was little chance of defeating Droṇa, nor did he relish fighting with him. Once again folding his palms, Arjuna called out, “O my lord, I will now take my leave. You are my preceptor and I do not wish to fight with you further. There exists no man in all the worlds who can vanquish you in battle. Please bless me. I am going on.”
Kṛṣṇa urged on Arjuna’s horses and the chariot raced away, leaving Droṇa to the right. As they passed him he shouted, “Where are you going, Dhanañjaya? Have you become afraid?”
Droṇa again released volleys of arrows at Arjuna, but Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot so fast that all of his shafts fell short. With Droṇa still calling, Arjuna sped away, leaving him far behind. He was joined by Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas, two powerful Pañchālas who had fought their way through to him. They protected him on either side of his chariot as he rushed forward into the hostile array.
As Droṇa turned to chase Arjuna, the Pāṇḍava commander, Dhristaketu, challenged him with a roar. Droṇa turned to face him and was immediately struck by a volley of shafts. Droṇa’s horses, chariot, and charioteer were all covered by Dhristaketu’s arrows. Droṇa blazed up like an infuriated mountain lion suddenly roused from slumber. He released a razor-faced arrow that cut apart his opponent’s bow. Dhristaketu then took up another bow and in an instant fired a hundred more arrows. Not minding the attack, Droṇa shot four crescent-headed shafts that slew his enemy’s horses and cut down his charioteer. Dhristaketu leapt from his stationary chariot, mace in hand, and charged Droṇa. Whirling about as he ran, he hurled the mace with all his power and it flew at Droṇa spitting fire. Droṇa at once shot dozens of hammer-headed shafts that smashed the mace to pieces. Dhristaketu then picked up a long lance from the earth and threw it violently, but again the Kuru preceptor cut it down in mid-flight. Droṇa then set a long, anjalika shaft on his bow. Empowering it with mantras, he fired it from his fully-drawn bow and it struck Dhristaketu on the chest. The shaft pierced right through the Chedi king and entered the earth behind him.
Seeing his foe falling to the ground, Droṇa looked around for Arjuna. The Pāṇḍava had disappeared into the throng. Droṇa decided to make his way swiftly toward Jayadratha. No doubt he would get his chance to meet Arjuna there before too long.
After leaving Droṇa, Arjuna plunged into the Kauravas. Like maladies afflicting the body, he afflicted his enemies with fiery shafts. Roaring and blowing his conch, he attacked the Kauravas as if demented. He launched blazing arrows from the Gāṇḍīva end to end. They fell unfailingly upon men, horses and elephants, leaving them floundering. Kṛtavarmā challenged Arjuna, setting at nought their long-standing friendship. The Pāṇḍava and the Vrishni fought. No difference could be detected between the two as they matched weapon for weapon. It appeared as if Yamarāja were contending with Death personified. Arrows charged with mantras collided in mid-air with mighty explosions. Both men circled each other and released a continuous stream of shafts. Both were pierced in all parts of their bodies as they sought for weak spots in their foe.
Kṛṣṇa again said to Arjuna. “Do not spare him. You are losing too much time. Forgetting your relationship with him, crush him at once.”
Charged with Kṛṣṇa’s admonition, Arjuna shot a cluster of shafts at Kṛtavarmā that broke his bow and sent him reeling. Taking his opportunity, Arjuna rushed past him and pressed on into the Kaurava ranks. As Kṛtavarmā came back to his senses, he was assailed by Arjuna’s two protectors, who kept him at bay as Arjuna pushed forward.
Then the Kalinga king, Srutayush, charged Arjuna. Whirling a huge mace, he closed rapidly on the Pāṇḍava. Arjuna sped three dozen shafts at him and the king took up his own bow, sending fifty arrows back. After an exchange of shafts, Srutayush leapt down from his chariot and ran at Arjuna with his mace held aloft. Srutayush, the son of the River Parnasa, had received a boon from Varuṇa that his mace would prove irresistible to all. However, the god had warned him, “Do not attack anyone who is not fighting or this weapon will kill you.”
In the heat of the battle, Srutayush’s forgot Varuṇa’s warning. As he reached Arjuna’s chariot he swung his mace at Kṛṣṇa and dealt him a great blow. Kṛṣṇa received the blow on his broad shoulders without shaking, even as a mountain is unshaken by a tempest. In accord with Varuṇa’s words, however, Srutayush’s mace turned as he lifted it to again strike Kṛṣṇa. It smashed into his own head and killed him. The Kauravas wailed on seeing the hero killed by his own weapon. His army fled, crying out in fear.
Sudakṣiṇa, a Kambhoja prince, challenged Arjuna and fired hundreds of arrows at him. Arjuna warded off the shafts and Sudakṣiṇa hurled a dreadful iron lance, furnished with bells and a long, spiked point. It blazed brilliantly and emitted sparks as it flew. Hit by the lance, Arjuna fell to his knees in a swoon. Kṛṣṇa swiftly circled the chariot around as Arjuna recovered his senses.
Getting to his feet, Arjuna licked the corners of his mouth and glared at Sudakṣiṇa. He drew the Gāṇḍīva back to his ear and shot a volley of shafts that smashed the prince’s chariot. Arjuna then struck him on the chest with an arrow charged with the force of a thunderbolt. With his chariot falling apart all around him, the prince dropped headlong to the earth like a tree cut at its root.
After killing the prince Arjuna encountered the armies of the Surasenas, Abhisahas, Sinis and Vasatis. Driving into their midst, he dispersed them with his weapons. Oblivious to the immense volumes of arrows which fell upon him, which were either struck down by Arjuna’s own shafts or deflected from his impenetrable armor, he annihilated the warriors as if appointed by Yamarāja to bring on the end of the yuga. Continuously pressing forward toward Jayadratha, he left a trail of devastation. Sixty thousand of his antagonists were slain in less than an hour. The survivors turned and fled, crying out to Duryodhana and Droṇa for protection.
Three of Srutayush’s sons then attacked Arjuna, hoping to avenge their father. They were powerful fighters. For some time, Arjuna’s chariot was hardly visible beneath the shower of weapons they launched at him. Arrows, darts and lances rained down on both Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa. They appeared like the twin peaks of a great mountain lashed by a violent storm. Gradually, however, Arjuna checked his opponents’ missiles and his chariot again appeared on the battlefield. Placing a long golden arrow onto the Gāṇḍīva, he invoked the Śakra weapon, presided over by the king of the gods. Thousands of shafts went toward the princes like streaks of lightning, cutting down all their arrows and other missiles. Those deadly shafts struck the princes with terrible force, severing their arms, legs and heads from their trunks. Many thousands of Kaurava warriors supporting the princes were also annihilated.
Having swept away the three Kalinga princes, Arjuna sent up a triumphant cry and charged into the thick array of Kauravas between himself and Jayadratha. While the other Pāṇḍavas and their forces engaged with the principal Kaurava warriors, Arjuna ploughed through their army like a raging fire. All the other Pāṇḍava fighters were left far behind as he battled his way through the enemy.
Hearing that Arjuna was steadily approaching the Sindhu ruler, Duryodhana spoke with Droṇa, who had resumed his position near the Kaurava prince. Droṇa had thought it best to stay near Jayadratha, supporting his generals. He would stand a better chance of checking Arjuna when flanked by Kṛpa, Karṇa and Aśvatthāmā. The Pāṇḍava would be hard-pressed to get past him again.
Duryodhana looked apprehensively at his commander, “O preceptor, Arjuna is crushing our forces. Like a fire among dry weeds, the Dhanañjaya fire, strengthened by the wind of his anger, is swallowing up my forces. The warriors protecting Jayadratha are trembling with fear. You are our only shelter. Everyone came to the fight today believing that Arjuna would not escape with his life when you faced him. O illustrious one, it seems you are attached to the Pāṇḍavas and therefore I have become confused, not knowing what to do next.”
Duryodhana’s tone was imploring. He looked anxiously about the field. Karṇa stood at a distance with his weapons at the ready, but even he would find it hard to check Arjuna in his present mood. Only Droṇa could stop him, if he so desired. There was not a warrior in all the worlds who could overpower Droṇa in battle. As Arjuna’s instructor, he knew everything about his mode of fighting and any possible weakness. There could only be one reason why he had not already slain Arjuna.
Duryodhana frowned. “To the best of my ability I have always tried to please you, great Brahmin, but it seems you do not value my service. O man of infinite prowess, although we are devoted to you, it appears you do not wish us well. Although you live on our bread, still you injure us. I now see that you are like a razor soaked in honey. If you had not assured me, I would not have prevented Jayadratha from returning to his kingdom. Fool that I am, I believed you, and as a result I have virtually offered him as a victim to Death. Indeed, a man might escape even when he enters Death’s jaws, but there is no chance that Jayadratha will escape when he faces the infuriated Arjuna in battle.”
Duryodhana wept tears of frustration, trying by any means to incite Droṇa to attack Arjuna. Afraid that he may have had the opposite effect, he spoke more gently. “O hero, forgive my ravings for I am afflicted by grief. I fall at your feet. Please save Jayadratha, and indeed our army, from the enraged and invincible Arjuna.”
Droṇa looked wearied. How many times did Duryodhana have to be told? “I am not offended by your words, O ruler of men. You are the same to me as my own son. Thus I have tried in every way to assist you. I have tendered you wholesome advice, but you have not listened. I have made vows for your benefit, fully intent on keeping them. Before all men I promised to capture Yudhiṣṭhira, but it was to no avail. Again, I vowed to protect Jayadratha, but how is it possible when we face Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa together on one chariot? I can only endeavor to my full extent; I cannot control the results. Destiny is the ultimate controller, despite man’s exertion, and the Lord of destiny sits by Arjuna’s side.”
Droṇa shook his head and looked around at the thick ranks of warriors protecting Jayadratha. Doubtlessly they would all soon lie dead. Arjuna would spare none in his efforts to slay the Sindhu king, and Kṛṣṇa would do anything to protect his friend’s promise. He had already shown that enough times. Duryodhana, however, was faithless and could not understand this simple truth.
With a sweep of his hand Droṇa indicated the forces surrounding him. “These troops are the last line of defense for Jayadratha. I will not personally confront Arjuna again, as I am needed here. Nor will he fight with me at present. When I tried engaging with him, he simply left me standing.”
Droṇa could understand that the situation was desperate. The Pāṇḍavas had thought out their strategy well. Their forces had pressed ahead behind Arjuna, taking advantage of the chaos he was causing. All the chief Kaurava warriors were engaged in different parts of the field, either fighting or remaining in critical positions for Jayadratha’s protection. Someone had to check Arjuna, but Duryodhana was the only one available.
Droṇa continued, “O great hero, you are a mighty maharatha, possessed of fame and skilled at defeating your enemies. Go to where Arjuna stands. Challenge him yourself and arrest his progress.”
Duryodhana looked up in astonishment. “O preceptor, how do you honestly expect me to stop Arjuna? I may be able to conquer Indra, armed with his thunderbolt and heading the host of gods, but it will not be possible to conquer Arjuna. He has already overcome you and Kṛtavarmā, as well as slaying all of the Kalinga rulers. He has also slaughtered myriads of fierce barbarian fighters. How will I face him? O great one, I am dependent on you. Please save my honor.”
“What you say is true, O King. No one can defeat Arjuna. Under normal circumstances I would not risk you against him, but we face a dire calamity. Still, you need not fear. I will make you invincible even to Arjuna. I will tie on your armor in such a way that will make it impenetrable to both human and celestial weapons. Even if the creatures of the three worlds come together against you, still you need not fear. Arjuna knows how to do this, but no one else on this battlefield. Take off your armor, O King, and I will tie it on again while reciting the ancient mantras uttered by Brahmā himself. You may then proceed fearlessly against the mighty Pāṇḍava.”
Duryodhana quickly removed his golden armor. After Droṇa had touched water for purification and rinsed his mouth, he replaced it while intoning mantras. When he had finished he said, “You will now be able to face any foe with impunity. This celestial armor, invoked by my prayers, was originally given by Brahmā to Indra. Clad in this armor, Indra fought and defeated Vṛtrasura, who had overpowered all the other celestials. O King, go forward and face Arjuna. There is no time to lose.”
* * *
As the sun reached the meridian on the thirteenth day, many terrific battles were being fought between the respected heroes on both sides. Dṛṣṭadyumna was steadily pressing forward, hoping to meet Droṇa in single combat. Bhīma constantly sought out Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons, while Yudhiṣṭhira engaged with Śalya and his division of warriors. Sātyaki encountered Bāhlika, Sahadeva fought with Śakuni, Ghaṭotkaca and his Rākṣasa hordes with Alambusha and his supporters, and the other chief fighters among the Pāṇḍavas fought opponents of equal might. Fighting with human and celestial weapons, the great warriors created a beautiful sight on the battlefield as they attacked and counterattacked each other, displaying all their skills.
Meanwhile, Arjuna continued to plow through the tightly packed Kaurava troops. Hearing news of his progress, Jayadratha shook with fear. Karṇa and Aśvatthāmā stood by his sides, grim-faced. Still some twenty miles from Jayadratha, Arjuna fought on remorselessly. With his fiery shafts he created breaches in the enemy defenses, and Kṛṣṇa would then quickly drive the chariot through. Wherever the chariot went, the Kauravas were driven back like darkness at sunrise. Arjuna’s arrows slew men standing a full two miles away. His well-tempered and polished steel shafts dropped from the sky like showers of meteors. As Arjuna annihilated the troops who opposed him, Kṛṣṇa baffled their attacks by His skillful driving, exhibiting various expert maneuvers as the chariot moved with circular, backwards, and sideways motions.
Sometimes Arjuna’s progress was swift and at other times slow, but no one saw him cease fighting for a moment. His bow was constantly drawn and arrows flew out in endless streams. It took great courage to even look at him. Thousands of warriors, careless of their lives, rushed against him and perished like insects falling into a fire.
As the sun began its downward course, Arjuna was attacked by Vinda and Anuvinda, the two princes of Avantī. Both were maharathas and they came at Arjuna from both sides at once. Roaring in delight, the fearless warriors charged at Arjuna, releasing their long-shafted arrows by the hundreds.
Surprised by their sudden appearance, Arjuna was hit hard by more than sixty arrows. Kṛṣṇa was pierced with the same number and the horses were all caught with twenty arrows each. Blazing in anger, Arjuna shook off their shafts and aimed his own arrows at his antagonists, looking for their vulnerable points. He struck both of them and stopped their forward charge. The two princes screamed out their battle cries and covered Arjuna with a downpour of arrows. Ignoring the attack, Arjuna carefully aimed a couple of broad-headed shafts and cut apart both their bows. With two more arrows he cut off their standards, and with another dozen he slew their charioteers and horses. All this happened in a matter of moments. Before the princes could do anything Arjuna shot a crescent-headed shaft with full force that severed Vinda’s head.
Seeing his brother slain, Anuvinda leapt from his chariot bellowing with rage. Clutching his mace he raced toward Arjuna. Anuvinda swerved from side to side as he ran, determined to avenge Vinda’s death. Reaching Arjuna’s chariot, he brought the mace down with all his power onto Kṛṣṇa’s forehead. Kṛṣṇa remained firm. Utterly enraged to see Anuvinda strike Kṛṣṇa, Arjuna shot five short shafts that cut off his arms, legs and head. The prince fell down like fragments of rocks shattered by an explosion.
Seeing both their leaders killed, the Avantī army rushed in a body at Arjuna. The Pāṇḍava slew them with arrows shot from the Gāṇḍīva which appeared like showers of sparks flying up from a great fire. Whirling about in his chariot, he consumed the army like a fire consuming a forest at the end of the summer. Thousands of other troops then came at Arjuna. His chariot was completely lost in the enemy ranks. Kṛṣṇa found it impossible to move in any direction. As the battle raged on, He said, “O Pārtha, such is the intensity of this fight that even our celestial horses are becoming weary. We are still far from Jayadratha and they need rest.”
Fighting continuously, Arjuna replied, “O Madhava, I will create a path through these foes. You may then take the chariot through, unyoke the horses, and let them rest. Draw out the arrows from their bodies while I keep these warriors in check.”
Arjuna directed a great stream of arrows at his enemies and forced them back. He then leapt down from the chariot, still releasing countless shafts, and Kṛṣṇa drove away from him. The Kauravas, seeing Arjuna standing on the ground, felt that their opportunity for victory had arrived. Roaring even louder, they ignored Kṛṣṇa and the chariot and trained all their weapons on Arjuna. Arjuna fought on foot against them. He spun around and shot searing arrows in all directions. The amazed Kauravas could not find any gap in his defenses. To approach him was to rush into a solid wall of arrows. The meeting of Arjuna’s shafts with those of his adversaries created a sheet of fire in the sky. Scorched, the Kauravas fell back.
Arjuna ran over to where Kṛṣṇa had released the horses. Kṛṣṇa told him that they needed water and Arjuna replied, “It shall be done.” Drawing back his bow with a golden arrow fixed to it, Arjuna uttered incantations to invoke the Varuṇastra. He shot the arrow at the earth and at once a large lake appeared, with swans, ducks, and other aquatic birds swimming amid lotuses and lilies. The clear pond had been transported from the heavenly regions and was cool and pleasing. A gentle breeze blew over it and celestial sages were seated on its banks.
Invoking another mystical weapon, Arjuna constructed a shelter on the lakeside made entirely of arrows. Kṛṣṇa laughed and applauded him. He led the horses into the shelter where, after drinking their fill, they lay on the grassy ground. Kṛṣṇa then removed their arrows and gently massaged their bodies.
The Kauravas had rallied and again surrounded Arjuna, who continued to fight on foot. Showers of arrows, darts and lances fell upon him, but he stood as firm as Mount Meru. He received the massive downpour of weapons like a mountain receiving rain. Even as the single fault of covetousness destroys all a man’s good qualities, he single-handedly destroyed his enemies. Contending alone against countless warriors seated on chariots, horses and elephants, Arjuna appeared wonderful. Celestials praised him and the Kauravas themselves applauded his prowess. They marveled at the sight of the lake and the shelter he had created. Despite strenuous exertions, they could not overcome him even though he was disadvantaged by the loss of his chariot. His speed, lightness of hand and agility were too great. As he held off the Kaurava forces, Kṛṣṇa harnessed the horses and drove up to Arjuna’s side. As He did so, the mystical lake, with its birds, aquatics and ṛṣis, vanished.
Mounted again on his chariot, Arjuna sounded his conch. Kṛṣṇa urged on the horses, and the chariot rushed into the thick of the Kauravas, with Arjuna spraying deadly shafts on all sides. Like a storm agitating the ocean, he created havoc among the enemy ranks. The Kauravas were beaten back and unable to check his progress. Some of them called out, “Fie upon Duryodhana! It is his fault that the earth now faces such a calamity. These two heroes will spare no one.” Other Kauravas said, “Dhṛtarāṣṭra should begin the preparations for Jayadratha’s last rites. The Sindhu ruler will be killed today.”
Arjuna pressed forward relentlessly. Only four hours remained until sunset and he still had ten miles of troops to cross. The bravest of the Kauravas rushed against him, but like rivers entering the sea they did not return. Other cowardly warriors, like atheists turning away from scripture, turned back from the fight, thus incurring condemnation and sin.
The fire-colored chariot Kṛṣṇa drove appeared like Sūrya’s chariot driven by Aruna. It tore through the Kaurava ranks. Rested and refreshed, the horses raced ahead, seeming to rise up into the sky at every moment. Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa appeared like two fiery suns risen together at the end of the age. Anyone coming near them was burnt by the fire of Arjuna’s weapons and fell lifeless to the earth. The Kauravas facing Arjuna became dispirited and hopeless. They struggled vainly to check him from reaching Jayadratha, but in less than an hour Arjuna could see in the distance Droṇa’s tall standard. With a triumphant shout he said, “See there the preceptor’s banner, O Madhava. I think we are drawing close to the Sindhu king. He cannot be more than a few miles away.”
Kṛṣṇa again advised Arjuna to circumvent Droṇa so as not to lose time, but Droṇa had already seen him and was shooting arrows that flew more than two miles and pierced both him and Kṛṣṇa. Bleeding from their wounds, they appeared like two flowering karnikara trees. Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot away from Droṇa’s attack, placing a body of Kaurava troops between them. He then moved in a great circle around Droṇa’s division. Arjuna continuously launched his blazing shafts in unending lines that struck down men, horses and elephants alike.
As Arjuna came within a few miles of Jayadratha, he was suddenly met by Duryodhana. With his impenetrable armor shining brilliantly, the Kaurava prince sent up a mighty roar and charged. Drawing up his chariot at a short distance from his enemy, he shouted out a challenge.
Kṛṣṇa stopped the chariot and said, “Behold Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s powerful son standing fearlessly before you. He has constantly hated the Pāṇḍavas and is an accomplished warrior, capable of contending with innumerable warriors at once. I think, O sinless one, that the time has come when you should fight with him. Upon him rests victory or defeat. Vomit upon him the venom of your wrath, O Pārtha. It is your good fortune that has brought him before you alone. Why has he risked his life in this way? Surely he will soon regret his folly. Strike down this evil-hearted one and the war will be over. O Arjuna, kill him and cut the root of the wicked Kauravas.”
Arjuna stared angrily at the bellowing Duryodhana. “Let it be so. Go closer to this wretch so that I may punish him with sharpened shafts. I will now avenge the wrongs he committed against Draupadī.”
Kṛṣṇa drove the chariot toward Duryodhana. Seeing the Kaurava chief exhibiting no fear, even though there was sufficient cause, many warriors looked on and applauded. Others cried out in sorrow, considering Duryodhana to be like a libation of ghee poured into a sacrificial fire. “The king is slain! The king is slain!” they cried in terror.
Hearing their cries, Duryodhana laughed. “Dispel your fears. I will soon send these two to Death’s abode.”
Duryodhana taunted Arjuna. “O Pārtha, let me see your prowess. Release all the weapons you have learned from Droṇa and received from the celestials. Watch as I repulse your attack. Then I will sever your head along with Kṛṣṇa’s.”
Duryodhana immediately pierced Arjuna with three arrows that flew invisibly toward him. With four more he pierced each of his horses, and with another ten he struck Kṛṣṇa. With another well-aimed arrow he cut the whip in Kṛṣṇa’s hand, which fell to the ground in two pieces. Arjuna drew the Gāṇḍīva back to his ear and fired four steel-headed shafts that screamed through the air. Hitting Duryodhana’s armor they fell harmlessly to the earth. Arjuna released another sixteen arrows which were again deflected from his armor. He shot twenty more shafts with even more power, but these were also ineffective against Duryodhana’s armor.
Seeing this, Kṛṣṇa said with surprise, “I have not seen this before. Your arrows, capable of penetrating the earth, are falling uselessly from Duryodhana’s armor. Is everything well with you, O Pārtha? Is the Gāṇḍīva losing its power? Why are you unable to pierce your enemy? This is not the time to fail. What is the cause?”
Arjuna understood. Looking at the laughing Duryodhana, he replied, “I think Droṇa has tied on Duryodhana’s armor today. It contains the might of the three worlds. Only Droṇa knows its secret and he has taught it to me. No weapons can pierce this armor. Surely You know this, O Kṛṣṇa, because You know everything. Yet see how this fool stands before me. He is like a woman clad in armor and does not know how to take advantage of his position. Even though he is protected by an impenetrable coat of mail, I will still defeat him. Watch as I send him reeling from my attack.”
Duryodhana stood fearlessly in his chariot and called to Arjuna derisively, “Try again, O Pārtha. I think you are losing your touch.” He fired a thick volley of shafts that covered both Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa. The Kauravas watching the fight were delighted to see Duryodhana impervious to Arjuna’s attack. They roared and beat their drums.
Fending off Duryodhana’s arrows, Arjuna became incensed. With a taut smile he slew Duryodhana’s four horses. He then broke apart his chariot with a hundred hammer-headed shafts. Taking another four arrows with extended points, he empowered them with mantras and aimed them carefully at the Kaurava. The arrows struck Duryodhana on the tips of his fingers, the only exposed part of his body, as he was releasing his own shafts. He screamed in pain as they went under his nails. Dropping his bow he jumped about on the terrace of his chariot, shaking his hand in agony.
Seeing their leader distressed, other Kaurava warriors rushed to his rescue. They surrounded Arjuna with chariots, elephants and horses. Kṛpa, who had come to Duryodhana’s assistance, took him on his chariot, bearing the emblem of a bull, and carried him to safety.
Arjuna again set to slaying the Kaurava troops. He soon managed to break free from his assailants. As his chariot emerged from the enemy array, both he and Kṛṣṇa blew their conchshells with full power. That sound filled the battlefield and terrified the Kauravas. Jayadratha also heard it in the distance and froze in his chariot, looking fearfully in the direction of the sound.
Elsewhere on the field the other Pāṇḍavas had been fighting and destroying thousands of foes. The losses on both sides were great. The earth again assumed a terrible aspect, with the bodies of slain men and beasts lying about amid the wreckage of chariots, armor and weapons.
2.18: Kṛṣṇa’s Mystic Power
From some way off, Yudhiṣṭhira heard the blast of Arjuna’s and Kṛṣṇa’s conchshells. Fearful that his brother might be in danger and signaling for help, he said to Sātyaki, “O grandson of Sini, I think the hour has arrived when you must do the duty of a friend. You are wholly devoted to our welfare, and especially to Arjuna’s. O hero, it is said that one who casts off his mortal frame while fighting for his friend’s cause gets the same result as one who twice gives away the entire earth in charity. I think Arjuna may now need your help. He has single-handedly entered the Kaurava array. Please go to where he stands. There is no one else who can assist him better than you.”
Sātyaki felt torn. Arjuna had specifically ordered him to remain by Yudhiṣṭhira’s side and to follow his instructions. Now Yudhiṣṭhira was asking him to leave. What would happen if while he was gone, Droṇa attacked and captured Yudhiṣṭhira? Arjuna would never forgive him. He revealed his doubts. “O lord of the earth, there is nothing I would not do at your command. As you have rightly said, I am ever devoted to Arjuna’s service. Thus I am ready to penetrate even into the ranks of heavenly hosts to assist that foremost of fighters. However, I must remind you of Arjuna’s words to me today. ‘Protect Yudhiṣṭhira until I return from slaying Jayadratha.’ How can I leave you? Surely Droṇa’s threat still hangs over you since he vowed to take you captive.
Sātyaki reassured Yudhiṣṭhira. “Arjuna could not possibly be in any danger because he is with Kṛṣṇa. Who among the Kauravas could even threaten him? Surely he has blown his conch after achieving a great victory. Probably he has come close to Jayadratha. I am sure Arjuna is well, but if you cannot dispel your anxiety, I will follow him. Nevertheless, without leaving you in the care of someone able to protect you from Droṇa, I cannot leave. Therefore, command me as you will, O King.”
Yudhiṣṭhira pointed to the many warriors surrounding him--Bhīma, Dṛṣṭadyumna, the twins, Draupadī’s sons, Ghaṭotkaca, and numerous others. They would surely be able to hold off Droṇa, should he attack. In any event, the preceptor was likely to be occupied in the attempt to protect Jayadratha.
Seeing Yudhiṣṭhira’s determination that he go after Arjuna, Sātyaki felt impelled to leave. After all, what if the Pāṇḍava really did need help? Although it seemed unlikely that Arjuna was in trouble, Sātyaki felt that if he did not follow him, he would be censured as a coward. Looking around at the Pāṇḍava warriors fighting near the king, he said, “In accordance with your order I will depart. May good betide you, O King. Plunging into the hostile army, an ocean teeming with arrows, darts and lances, I will soon reach my teacher and render him whatever assistance he may require. Let your fear be dispelled.”
After going over to Bhīma and asking him to take his place by Yudhiṣṭhira’s side, Sātyaki ordered his charioteer to drive into the Kaurava array in Arjuna’s wake. He soon saw the trail of carnage the Pāṇḍava had left behind. Fighting his way past the remaining troops, Sātyaki encountered Kṛtavarmā and a terrible fight ensued between them. Sātyaki fought intensely, determined to reach Arjuna as quickly as possible, and he soon overcame his opponent. Every Kaurava warrior who came against Sātyaki was swiftly routed. Passing along Arjuna’s path, he made rapid progress. Within an hour he sighted Arjuna’s chariot in the distance, its tall standard appearing high above the battlefield. Seeing this he took out his conch shell and blew a great blast.
Even after sending Sātyaki to assist Arjuna, Yudhiṣṭhira was still apprehensive. He spoke with Bhīma. “Out of my own anxiety I have sent Sini’s grandson into the hostile array formed by Droṇa. I now fear for both him and Arjuna. O mighty-armed hero, you alone are capable of holding the enemy at bay. Therefore, go swiftly after your brother and Sātyaki. When you reach them and find them safe, let go a mighty roar. My mind will then be relieved. With you by their side, nothing will be impossible for Arjuna and his disciple. I will consider Jayadratha already slain.”
Bhīma laughed. “What danger can there be for Arjuna? But if it is your desire, then I will go after him. You will soon hear my shout. Let your mind be at ease.”
Before leaving, Bhīma went over to Dṛṣṭadyumna and said, “I am now proceeding after my brother. Remembering Droṇa’s vow, stay close by the king’s side. You are born for that Brahmin’s destruction. In your presence Yudhiṣṭhira can experience no danger.”
Reassured by Dṛṣṭadyumna, Bhīma charged into the Kaurava ranks. Like Sātyaki before him, he saw the slaughter Arjuna had wreaked. Going along the track made by both Arjuna and Sātyaki, his progress toward his brother was swift. He quickly overcame the fighters who challenged him and soon reached his brother. Seeing Arjuna’s standard at a distance, with Sātyaki’s chariot not far off, Bhīma roared tremendously.
Arjuna, who had already met Sātyaki, heard his brother’s roar and said to Kṛṣṇa, “Here now is the mighty Bhīmasena. I do not see how the Kauravas will be able to protect Jayadratha from me when I am united with my brother and Sātyaki.”
Arjuna had been surprised to see his disciple. At first he had reproached him, fearful for Yudhiṣṭhira’s welfare, but Sātyaki had reassured him that the king was protected. He saw that Droṇa was also tied up in protecting Jayadratha, so there was no immediate danger for Yudhiṣṭhira. Arjuna had then embraced his beloved student, who had performed an amazing feat in passing through the Kauravas in such a short time. Praising his prowess, Arjuna told Sātyaki to help him reach Jayadratha.
Only two hours remained until sunset. Arjuna still had to overcome Karṇa, Aśvatthāmā, and other powerful Kauravas before he could reach Jayadratha. Doubtlessly Droṇa himself would also fight to his full power to protect the Sindhu king. Duryodhana had recovered from his wounds and had come back to the fight with many of his brothers. All of them stood between Arjuna and Jayadratha. It was by no means certain that the Pāṇḍava would fulfill his vow. Now that Bhīma had arrived, however, the Kauravas were shaking like a forest struck by a gale. Arjuna was bad enough, but when he fought with Bhīma and Sātyaki, no one would be able to stop him.
The three Pāṇḍava heroes advanced toward the division which formed Jayadratha’s last line of defense. Karṇa came forward to meet them, and Bhīma challenged him. Karṇa rushed at him, furiously releasing hundreds of arrows. Warding off the shafts, Bhīma replied with a hundred of his own. Both warriors glared at each other with eyes like blazing coals. They circled one another in their chariots, their gaze fixed on the other and waiting for his move. The two antagonists suddenly began shooting showers of deadly shafts. Their bowstrings cracked like thunderclaps and their arrows struck each other’s armor with resounding thuds. Neither flinched under their opponent’s attack nor showed any quarter. The surrounding troops looked on in amazement. Some of them, seeing Karṇa’s dazzling speed, considered Bhīma doomed, while others, seeing Bhīma’s uncontrolled rage, felt that Karṇa’s end had arrived.
Bhīma assailed Karṇa with all his power. He looked at him with unbridled contempt. Here was one of the prime causes of the Pāṇḍavas’ suffering. This was the one who had laughed in the dice game and ordered Draupadī to find another husband. Indeed, it had been he who had suggested she be disrobed. He had always conspired with the Kauravas to bring about the Pāṇḍavas’ downfall. His mocking words as they left for the forest still rang in Bhīma’s ears. Now at last he stood against him in battle. Fearlessly, Bhīma closed on Karṇa, stretching his golden bow back to his ear as he discharged his arrows. He sent so many shafts at his enemy that they screened him from view. Karṇa countered the attack and quickly emerged from the network of shafts. He pierced Bhīma with nine well-tempered steel arrows that flashed from his bow like lightning.
Undaunted, Bhīma went even closer to Karṇa, constantly releasing steel shafts that struck him in every part of his body. Intent on smashing Karṇa with his mace, the Pāṇḍava brought his chariot right up to him. As they came together, Bhīma’s black-hued horses mingled with the milk-white horses of his enemy. The great horses merging together appeared like beautiful black and white clouds combining in the sky.
The Kauravas cried out in anguish as they saw the furious Bhīma resolved on Karṇa’s destruction. The Pāṇḍava swung his mace and Karṇa quickly countered with his own. The two maces collided with a shower of sparks and a sound that deafened the onlookers for some moments. Contending at close quarters, Bhīma and Karṇa appeared like a couple of infuriated mountain lions fighting to the death. Their charioteers pulled back the horses and the two chariots again broke apart. Both men again took up their bows and fired short-shafted arrows and blazing darts at one another. As they circled each other, constantly discharging their weapons, they resembled two clouds discharging rain in the monsoon season. Their arrows, decked with gold, seemed like rows of maddened swans ranging through the heavens.
Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna both felt that a heavy burden had been placed on Bhīma. The enraged Karṇa was a formidable foe. Although he had encountered the Pāṇḍavas on several occasions, he had never been in his present mood. Now he seemed like the lord of death come for the destruction of all creatures. But Bhīma skillfully held off his attack. Everyone cheered him as he countered Karṇa’s innumerable arrows with his own. As Bhīma and Karṇa battled, Arjuna and Sātyaki maintained a ceaseless attack on the Kauravas. Elephants, horses and men fell dead all around them, pierced by their irresistible shafts.
Bhīma suddenly cut Karṇa’s bow in two parts with a razor-faced arrow. He then struck down one of his two charioteers and launched fifty straight-flying shafts at his immobilized foe. Karṇa shrugged off the arrows and took up a lance. Like Indra hurling his thunderbolt, he threw the lance with all his might at Bhīma. Inlaid with gold and gems, it flew with a glaring brilliance, its tip emitting orange flames. Seeing it leave Karṇa’s hand, Bhīma took out seven crescent-headed arrows and fired them in swift succession. They flew end-to-end and cut the lance into eight pieces. With a further twenty shafts Bhīma then struck Karṇa on the chest and sent up a great roar.
Without a second’s delay, Karṇa took up and strung another bow. He released a dozen swift arrows while Bhīma was fixing more shafts on his own bow. Even the celestials were surprised to witness Karṇa’s deftness and skill. Moving his chariot rapidly from side to side, Bhīma’s charioteer Vishoka evaded Karṇa’s arrows, which whistled past the Pāṇḍava. The battle between the two heroes went on like a fight between two mighty elephants for the leadership of a herd. They assailed each other untiringly, roaring all the while. Sometimes they laughed, sometimes they reproached one another, and sometimes they blew their conches. They flashed scornful glances at each other as they fought, each seeking victory over the other.
Bhīma once again cut apart Karṇa’s bow, then immediately slew his four horses and his second charioteer. Summoning all his strength, he sent a terrific downpour of arrows that completely enveloped Karṇa. His horses and charioteers slain, and himself struck everywhere and continuously, Karṇa was confounded and did not know what to do. Seeing his friend in such a predicament, Duryodhana commanded his brother Durmukha to rescue him. Braving Bhīma’s arrows, Durmukha raced over to Karṇa and quickly took him onto his chariot. But even as Karṇa leapt across to the chariot, Bhīma killed Durmukha along with his charioteer and horses.
Shocked, Karṇa quickly circumambulated the dead Kaurava and then ran across to another warrior’s chariot. As a number of Duryodhana’s other brothers came to his support, he resumed his assault on the Pāṇḍava. Smiling to see so many of his sworn enemies before him, Bhīma fought with greater intensity. He killed another three Kaurava princes and yelled out his battle cry, making the rest of them shake with fear. In the distance, Yudhiṣṭhira heard the victorious shout and was relieved. Everything was clearly well with Arjuna and Bhīma.
So fierce was Bhīma’s attack that no one could stand before him. Another four of Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons were each killed by a single arrow from Bhīma’s bow. Finally, even Karṇa himself was overpowered and pierced by so many shafts that he turned and fled.
Bhīma fell upon the Kauravas with a manic fury. Targeting Duryodhana’s brothers he began slaying them like a lion slaying deer. The Pāṇḍava’s arrows fell on the Kauravas like poisonous serpents. Remembering all the wrongs they had committed against him and his brothers, he ruthlessly cut them down. As he ranged about the field Bhīma came upon Vikarṇa. He remembered how he had fearlessly spoken in Draupadī’s defense during the dice game. The Pāṇḍavas knew that Vikarṇa felt genuine affection for them and supported their cause, even against his elder brother, but duty had ultimately compelled him to fight for Duryodhana.
Bearing in mind his vow to kill all one hundred brothers, as well as his duty as a kṣatriya, Bhīma did not hesitate to attack Vikarṇa along with his brothers. With golden-winged shafts he cut down the brothers one after another. Finally he slew Vikarṇa with three arrows. As the prince fell to the earth, Bhīma went over to him and circumambulated his body. He felt a twinge of sorrow, but thinking of the exalted destination he was sure to attain, he again became cheerful. The virtuous Kaurava hero had always performed his religious duties and had died in battle while facing his foes. Doubtlessly he had gone to the celestial regions.
After paying his last respects to Vikarṇa, Bhīma again launched himself into the fight. Nearby, Sātyaki was driving back Droṇa’s troops, moving toward the preceptor himself, while Arjuna was pressing inexorably toward Jayadratha. Not much time remained until sunset, and the three Pāṇḍava heroes fought to the extreme limits of their power.
* * *
Duryodhana was grief-stricken. Bhīma had just killed more than thirty of his brothers. He remembered Vidura’s warnings. Why had he not heeded them? Surely Bhīma was not human, nor was Arjuna. Both of them were annihilating his forces like Indra and Mahadeva wiping out the Asuras. Not far away, Sātyaki was single-handedly destroying the Trigarta army. It seemed that all of the Pāṇḍava warriors were aided by divine power. Perhaps Kṛṣṇa was indeed the Supreme Person. Duryodhana remembered the Dānavas’ assurances. Even if those celestial beings were assisting him, it would prove to no avail against an enemy assisted by God himself. Despite the overwhelming odds, the Pāṇḍavas were steadily crushing his forces. The greatest fighters in the three worlds were among his army, but they could make no impression on the Pāṇḍavas. He too could do nothing, it seemed, even while clad in Indra’s celestial armor.
The prince looked at the sky. The sun was not far from the western horizon. Perhaps all was not yet lost. Arjuna still had to pass Droṇa and his son. If they were supported by other invincible Kaurava warriors, then Arjuna may well be thwarted. Duryodhana urged his charioteer to drive quickly to Droṇa. One last strategic effort was needed. He and the preceptor could form all the great fighters in the vicinity into a solid line to protect Jayadratha. Surely even Arjuna would not have enough time to fight his way past Droṇa, Karṇa, Kṛpa, Aśvatthāmā, Śalya and a dozen other warriors, all standing together.
As Duryodhana raced toward Droṇa, Sātyaki fought with the powerful Kuru hero, Bhurisrava. As they encountered each other both men bore in mind an old enmity between their two fathers. Sātyaki’s father, Sini, had once defeated Somadatta, Bhurisrava’s father, in a fight at a svayaṁvara. Sini had dragged and kicked Somadatta in the presence of many kings. After this, Somadatta had pleased Śiva and received a boon that his son would do the same to Sini’s son. Now the two sons were meeting in battle for the first time. They traded arrows by the thousands, but neither could gain an advantage over the other. Both warriors hurled lances and javelins with all their power, but saw their opponent unfailingly cut them down with well-aimed arrows. Roaring like a couple of bulls, they contended at close quarters. Both men’s horses and charioteers were slain and their chariots smashed to pieces.
The two dauntless fighters jumped clear of their broken chariots. They drew out their sky-blue swords from their jeweled scabbards. Holding bull-hide shields inlaid with gold and silver carvings, they slowly circled one another. As they came together they displayed various skillful motions, describing circles and moving swiftly from side to side. They leapt into the air and swung their great swords, striking each other with all their power. The clash of their swords rang out across the battlefield. Sparks flew up as the weapons collided or fell upon the fighters’ armors. Both warriors thrust and parried with a speed and skill that amazed the onlookers, who shouted out praise and encouragement to both men. Suddenly, with one mighty blow, both swords shattered. Throwing them aside, the two men fell to wrestling. They struck and seized each other, rolling about on the ground with grunts and roars. Displaying every kind of wrestling skill, they fought on, each determined to kill the other.
Gradually, Sātyaki tired. It had taken a superhuman effort to reach Arjuna, and that was now taking its toll. Bhurisrava saw his chance and he seized his opponent’s hair. Dragging him across the field, the Kuru warrior repeatedly kicked and punched him.
Not far away Kṛṣṇa saw what was about to happen and he said, “Quickly, save your disciple who has become exhausted while fighting for your good. See now the danger he faces.”
Arjuna looked across at Sātyaki. Bhurisrava had picked up a discarded sword and was raising it ready to cut off his enemy’s head. Seeing Sātyaki’s perilous position Arjuna at once placed a razor-headed arrow on his bow. Releasing it with full force, he cut off Bhurisrava’s arm just as he brought down the sword. The arm, still clutching the sword, dropped to the earth like a five-hooded serpent falling from heaven. Bhurisrava, with blood spurting from his shoulder, looked around in anger and surprise. Who could have so flagrantly ignored the rules of combat? To attack an enemy without warning was unthinkable.
Seeing Arjuna nearby, Bhurisrava realized it had been him. Shocked, he reproached the Pāṇḍava. “Alas, O son of Kuntī, how could you perform such a cruel and heartless deed? You were not engaged with me, but still you covertly cut off my arm. Have you learned this from Droṇa, Kṛpa, or perhaps Indra? I think not, for none of those personalities could ever approve such an act. Nor could you, born in a noble line, have performed this mean deed of your own accord. I think rather that this was done at the instigation of the deceitful Kṛṣṇa. The Vrishnis are a race of low and mean-minded men, ever given to shameful conduct. Why have you chosen to befriend them, Arjuna? Just see the result.”
Moving closer to Bhurisrava, Arjuna called out, “It is evident that with the body’s decay the intellect also suffers, since, O hero, you have directed so many useless reproaches at us. You know well that I am fully aware of the codes of combat, as well as the meaning of all moral precepts. How could I commit a sinful act? Kshatriyas fight their foes while supported by their own men. Why then should I not protect Sātyaki, who is fighting on my behalf, careless of his own life? Indeed, it is my first duty to afford him protection. Had I stood by and watched you kill him, then I would have been guilty of sin.”
Bhurisrava dropped to his knees and held his wound. He listened in silence as Arjuna continued. “You were prepared to kill Sātyaki when he was weaponless, fatigued, and fallen to the earth. Seeing this I acted swiftly to save him. As Sātyaki was unprepared for your assault, so you were unprepared for mine. You should not censure me. Rather, you should reproach yourself for failing to guard against an attack while standing on the battlefield. Tell me, O mighty-armed warrior, how you would have acted toward your own dependent in such circumstances?”
Bhurisrava, whose lifeblood was quickly ebbing, made no reply. Deciding to give up his life while absorbed in mystic meditation, he used his left hand to spread out a bed of arrows. With difficulty he gathered the shafts and placed them together in a makeshift seat. As he sat on the arrows, his eyes fixed on the sun, all the other warriors on the battlefield stopped fighting out of respect. The Kauravas then rebuked Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna.
Unable to tolerate their abuse, Arjuna shouted back, “It is my solemn vow that no one on my side shall be slain as long as I am in a position to protect them. It is surely not right for you or Bhurisrava to condemn me for saving an unarmed man from an armed antagonist. But, O great heroes, who would not condemn the killing of the unarmed and careless Abhimanyu by a group of powerfully armed warriors standing on their chariots?”
Bhurisrava remained silent. His anger had gone. He and Arjuna were friends from long ago and, hearing the Pāṇḍava’s words, spoken without malice, he could see his own fault. Realizing that his destined end had arrived, he closed his eyes and fixed his mind on Viṣṇu, preparing to observe the sacred Praya vow of meditating until death.
Arjuna spoke again to the fallen Kuru fighter, “O great one, the love I bear for you is equal to that I bear for my own brothers. With my permission, and also that of Kṛṣṇa, go now to heaven.”
Kṛṣṇa added, “You have been devoted to sacrifice and worship of the Supreme Lord. Therefore go to My kingdom, ablaze with effulgence and coveted even by Brahmā. Assuming a spiritual form equal to My own, mount upon the back of Garuḍa, who will carry you to that eternal abode.”
As Kṛṣṇa spoke, Sātyaki recovered from his swoon and rose to his feet. Seeing his enemy seated nearby, he took up his discarded sword and rushed at him. As everyone present cried out to stop him, he swung the sword with all his strength and cut off Bhurisrava’s head.
There was shocked silence. No one praised Sātyaki for killing Bhurisrava, who had already been slain by Arjuna. Some of the Kaurava troops spoke among themselves. “Sātyaki was only the instrument, for this hero’s end had surely been ordained by fate. The Creator himself has moved Sātyaki to kill Bhurisrava, and we should not give way to anger, which is always the cause of man’s grief.”
Others among the Kauravas, such as Duryodhana and Karṇa, rebuked Sātyaki. Turning around with the bloodied sword still in his hand, Sātyaki called out to them, “You sinful men can only speak of virtue, for your acts are never virtuous. Where was your righteousness when Abhimanyu was slain? I vowed long ago to slay any man who threw me down in battle and kicked me. I was always destined to kill Bhurisrava. It is the hand of fate that moves all men. Where is my fault? In ancient times the sage Vālmīki said, ‘One should always act in battle in ways which give pain to the enemy.’”
Everyone remained silent. None on either side considered Sātyaki’s act noble. They all praised Bhurisrava in their minds, for he had gone to the highest and most holy regions. They looked at his head lying on the ground, which, with its curling blue locks and eyes red like a pigeon’s, was charming even in death.
After a moment of respectful silence, the warriors on both sides blew their conches and the battle began in earnest. Taking up the Gāṇḍīva, Arjuna said to Kṛṣṇa, “Urge on the horses, O Madhava. The sun is fast falling toward the western hills. The Sindhu ruler is well protected by the foremost Kuru fighters. My task will not be easy. O mighty-armed one, drive the horses in such a way that I may not be thwarted.”
Arjuna’s chariot rushed off toward Jayadratha, whose standard was just visible beyond the thick array of Kaurava troops. At once Duryodhana, Karṇa, Śalya, Aśvatthāmā, Kṛpa and Vrishasena attacked. They were supported by tens of thousands of charioteers, horsemen and elephants. All the warriors charged Arjuna like a stormy sea crashing onto the shore. With his razor-headed arrows Arjuna at once severed the limbs of fighters all around him. As the sun assumed a crimson hue he relentlessly slaughtered the Kaurava troops. Although they were being decimated, the Kauravas were cheered to see the sun almost on the horizon. Surely the Pāṇḍava would fail in his vow.
Determined to hold Arjuna back, Kṛpa and Aśvatthāmā attacked him from both sides. They rained countless arrows on both him and Kṛṣṇa. At the same time, Duryodhana, still encased in his impenetrable armor, assailed him from the front with Karṇa. From Arjuna’s rear Śalya roared out his challenge and immediately sent hundreds of shafts at him. Arjuna moved with blinding speed. Whirling about on the terrace of his chariot he sent arrows at every one of his assailants. All of them were either pierced or had their bows shattered by Arjuna’s shafts. Bhīma again tackled Karṇa, and at the same time annihilated the troops supporting him. Sātyaki took on Śalya and Vrishasena, killing thousands of their soldiers.
Arjuna slowly forced back the Kauravas who stood before him. Faced with an endless stream of blazing shafts, they struggled vainly to hold him in check. Both Aśvatthāmā and Kṛpa displayed masterful skills, but Arjuna checked every one of their weapons with his powerful arrows. He pierced his attackers with burning missiles launched from the Gāṇḍīva with all his power. The sky appeared as if illuminated by a constant shower of meteors. In his wrath, Arjuna resembled the eternal Śiva slaying the Asuras with his divine Ajagara bow.
Numerous monarchs and warriors came forward to attack Arjuna, clutching bows, lances, maces and swords. Advancing furiously on the Pāṇḍava, they were destroyed in moments by his irresistible arrows. The twang of the Gāṇḍīva, continuously resounding, resembled the roar of clouds seen in the sky at the end of the epoch. Warriors were dispatched to Death’s kingdom by the tens of thousands.
The Kauravas began to panic. They called to one another amid the confusion and carnage. Blood-spattered bodies lay everywhere in tangled and twisted heaps. The cries and moans of dying men mingled with the roars and battle cries of the surviving fighters. Wherever the warriors looked they saw Arjuna’s standard carving through their ranks. His snake-like arrows fell from the sky as if rained down by Indra. Even Droṇa, coming against Arjuna with all his strength, could not check him. He called out to his troops, who were starting to flee, trying to rally them back to the battle.
Less than half an hour remained until sunset. Droṇa ordered his son, Kṛpa, Karṇa, Śalya, Duryodhana, and a number of other maharatha warriors to stand before Arjuna, who could now see Jayadratha. They all began hurling weapons at the Pāṇḍava, screening him from Jayadratha. Arjuna, although so close to his foe, began to despair. Only minutes remained till sunset, and he could hardly see Jayadratha, so thick was the shower of arrows, darts and lances thrown by the Kaurava heroes.
Kṛṣṇa saw His friend’s predicament. He raised His right hand and immediately His Sudarśana chakra appeared at the end of His outstretched finger. Throwing that disc, He covered the sun like an eclipse and at once darkness enveloped the field. Thinking that the sun had set, the Kauravas cheered. Jayadratha was still alive. Now Arjuna would enter fire. Surely the war was over.
Confounded, Arjuna looked around, but Kṛṣṇa reassured him. “O Pārtha, there is still time. Fix your eyes on the southern quarter, where Jayadratha stands. The Kauravas have lowered their weapons and the Sindhu ruler now stands unprotected. In a moment he will come before your sight. Place upon the Gāṇḍīva an arrow charged with Brahmā’s power and sever his head.”
Arjuna immediately did as he was told. As he raised his bow with the brilliant golden shaft attached, Kṛṣṇa said, “This monarch has received a boon from his father. The old Sindhu king, Vridhakshatra, blessed him that whoever makes his head fall to the earth will himself die, his own head shattered in a hundred pieces. I know that Vridhakshtra now sits some miles from here at Samantapanchaka Lake, deep in meditation. Therefore, empower your arrow to carry Jayadratha’s head to his father’s lap.”
After saying this, Kṛṣṇa withdrew His chakra. Suddenly it was light again, the sun clearly visible just above the western horizon. Arjuna instantly released his arrow. It flew like a comet straight at Jayadratha, who was standing fearlessly on his chariot, caught unawares by the sudden reappearance of the sun. Severing his head from his neck, the arrow carried it high into the sky and out of the sight of all the warriors. After traveling a great distance, it deposited the head on Vridhakshatra’s lap. Startled, the monarch quickly stood up. As his son’s head fell on the ground, his own head broke into a hundred pieces and he fell dead.
The Kauravas cried out in grief. They realized the darkness had been Kṛṣṇa’s illusion. Duryodhana fell to his knees in his chariot. He dropped his weapons and hot tears flowed from his eyes. All of his warriors were struck dumb as they slowly left the battlefield.
Overjoyed at the success of His friend, Kṛṣṇa embraced Arjuna. “By good fortune you have slain Jayadratha and his wretched father, a constant enemy of the gods. I do not think that even Kārttikeya could have achieved this. You killed an entire akshauhini of soldiers. Your prowess resembles Rudra’s. Today Duryodhana and his followers are surely realizing that their end is near.”
Still perspiring from his prodigious efforts, Arjuna smiled. “By Your favor only has all this been achieved. O Kṛṣṇa, it is no wonder that one whom You support gains victory. Yudhiṣṭhira will surely regain his kingdom. My brothers and I are ever at Your service.”
Kṛṣṇa once again embraced Arjuna and then drove the chariot toward their camp. As they headed back, they surveyed the large number of warriors lying all over the field. The earth seemed to be filled with men, horses, elephants and chariots. Thousands of servants and physicians came from the camps to tend the wounded, who lay moaning with arrows and lances protruding from their bodies. Millions of shining arrows were strewn across the ground, along with broken maces, swords and armor. Bright gold ornaments gleamed amid fragments of shattered chariots. As darkness fell, the earth seemed as resplendent as the autumnal sky studded with countless stars.
Kṛṣṇa blew His conch loudly, gladdening the hearts of the Pāṇḍava warriors. Reaching Yudhiṣṭhira, Arjuna folded his palms and worshipped him with a joyful heart. Yudhiṣṭhira dismounted from his chariot and embraced Arjuna with tears in his eyes. Kṛṣṇa got down from the chariot and touched Yudhiṣṭhira’s feet in respect. The Pāṇḍava king embraced Him and said, “O Govinda, it is by Your grace that we stand victorious today. Our enemies are drowned in a sea of grief. Everything is certain for those You favor. Simply by seeking Your shelter, one is assured of all good fortune. Those who desire to please You never meet with sin or reversal.”
Trembling with transcendent happiness, Yudhiṣṭhira went on praising Kṛṣṇa for some time. When he had finished, Kṛṣṇa replied, “The wretched Jayadratha has been consumed by the fire of your anger. Duryodhana’s vast and proud armies are gradually being annihilated, O Bharata. Having insulted and angered you, the low-minded Duryodhana faces destruction, along with his followers. Those who have chosen to become your enemies are already defeated, although you bear no malice toward any living being.”
Bhīma and Sātyaki, their bodies covered with arrow wounds, came and stood before Arjuna. After embracing them both, Arjuna said tearfully, “By good fortune do I see you both, freed from the Kaurava ocean, in which Droṇa is an invincible alligator and Kṛtavarmā an invincible shark. It was fortunate that you made Karṇa, Kṛpa and Śalya flee. Both of you are as dear to me as my own life. With you as my support and protectors, I have no fear.”
The Pāṇḍavas headed joyfully back to their camp, blowing their conches and praised by bards and eulogists.
2.19: The Kauravas Rally
After Jayadratha’s death, the Kaurava warriors expressed their sorrow. Seeing so many of their number slain, the soldiers condemned Dhṛtarāṣṭra and his son. Censuring them for their wicked policies, the warriors praised Yudhiṣṭhira and his brothers. Sunk in despair, Duryodhana rode back to his camp. He sat on the terrace of his chariot with his head lowered. Unable to look at anyone, his mind dwelt only on the day’s events. Surely there was no warrior equal to Arjuna. Neither Droṇa, Kṛpa, nor even Karṇa could stand before him. Indeed, the whole army combined could not stop him from killing Jayadratha. Duryodhana wept in his agony. Entering his tent he took his seat, followed by Droṇa and his other generals. No music played in his camp, and the bards were silent.
Struggling to maintain his composure, the Kaurava prince addressed Droṇa in a voice strained with grief. “O preceptor, behold the carnage among the kings who have come to our side. Even the mighty Bhīṣma lies prostrate on the battlefield. The Pāṇḍavas have slaughtered seven akshauhinis of our troops. Today your disciple fulfilled his vow and killed Jayadratha, even though you opposed him with an impenetrable array of troops. Many lords of the earth, desiring to do us good, have gone to Yamarāja’s abode. How can I repay my debt to them? Being nothing more than a coward, I have destroyed my friends and relatives. The earth should swallow me, covetous, sinful and opposed to virtue as I am. My own grandsire lies on a bed of arrows due to my wicked desires. What will he say when he meets me in the next world?”
Duryodhana stopped speaking and wept openly. He buried his head in his hands and cried out the names of his slain brothers. Karṇa came over and comforted him. Gradually he gained control of himself and sat up. He sat staring straight ahead for some time, wringing his hands and breathing heavily. His mind moved between despair and the desire for revenge. All was not lost. The Kauravas still had Droṇa, Karṇa, Aśvatthāmā, and other powerful heroes. Perhaps they could yet defeat the Pāṇḍavas, or at least capture or kill Yudhiṣṭhira. In any circumstance, surrender was impossible. It would be better to be slain down to the last man than to hand over the kingdom to the Pāṇḍavas after all this. That was the least the surviving Kauravas could do to repay their slain colleagues.
With tears running down his face, Duryodhana continued. “O foremost of warriors, I swear that I will obtain peace only by slaying the Pāṇḍavas or by being slain by them. I will follow the path taken by our friends and relatives. Seeing us overpowered by our enemies, our partisans are losing faith in our power. They are openly praising the Pāṇḍavas. With Bhisma fallen and you fighting only mildly, O preceptor, our troops think we have no protector. It seems that Karṇa alone is anxious for our success. Like a fool I have depended on one who is a friend only in words. Greedy for wealth and sinful, my mind blinded by desire, I have placed my hopes where they were bound to be thwarted. As a result, Jayadratha and so many other great kings all lie dead on the battlefield. O Droṇa, permit me therefore to lay down my life in battle, just as all these men have done.”
Droṇa removed his helmet and long gloves, placing them by his side. His sinewy arms were lacerated with arrow wounds, and skilled physicians applied herbal dressings to the cuts, but Duryodhana’s reproachful words stung him more than the wounds. He turned to the prince. “Why, O King, do you pierce me with words as sharp as darts? I have repeatedly told you that no one can defeat Arjuna in battle. Seeing Bhīṣma brought down I am convinced that we are doomed. The dice Śakuni threw against the Pāṇḍavas have returned against us as blazing arrows. Vidura warned you of this, but you did not heed him. He who ignores his well-wishers and goes his own way is stupid and is soon reduced to a pitiable condition. You have brought about this calamity upon us all by dragging Draupadī into the Kuru assembly and insulting her. Such a sinful deed cannot go unpunished.”
Droṇa had heard enough from Duryodhana. He reminded him of every wicked act he had performed against the Pāṇḍavas, making it clear that the Kauravas had no one to blame but themselves for their present suffering. They had been warned many times that fighting the Pāṇḍavas would not result in success. Droṇa looked at Duryodhana and his surviving brothers. Bhīma had already slain half of them. The remainder were a sorry sight in their grief and frustration. Droṇa felt that it was still his duty to afford them whatever protection he could, but there was little hope. Standing up with his hand on his ivory-hilted sword, he said, “Seeing me sinking in the ocean of the Pāṇḍavas’ prowess, you should not enhance my grief, O King. Hear now my final determination. I will not take off my armor again until all of the Pañchālas are slain. My son will kill the Somakas. With those two armies gone, it may be possible for us to defeat the Pāṇḍavas.”
Droṇa indicated Kṛpa. “Here is the invincible ācārya. Our enemies cannot kill him. Let him exert his full power to kill the kings who have sided with the Pāṇḍavas. O Duryodhana, worship Brahmins and offer them many gifts. Make offerings into the sacred fire and propitiate the deities. We will make one last great effort. Tomorrow I will ride at the head of your army with my weapons ablaze. You will see me penetrate the Pāṇḍava ranks like a lion entering a herd of cows.”
Cheered by Droṇa’s words, the Kauravas slowly retired for the night, exhausted from the day’s fighting.
* * *
Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat silently on his throne. By his side Sañjaya gently dabbed his brow with a soft cloth soaked in cool water. The old king had lost consciousness when he heard how Bhīma had slain over thirty of his sons in one day. Returning to consciousness he learned that Arjuna had succeeded in his vow to kill Jayadratha. Struck dumb with grief, he moaned softly. Was there any hope for the Kauravas when their entire force could not prevent Arjuna from reaching the Sindhu king? The blind monarch spoke in a voice barely rising above a whisper. “O best of all my servants, tell me how my surviving sons are now faring, having seen their army routed and Jayadratha slain. Day by day my fame dwindles. Numerous powerful warriors on my side are being killed. All this is due to the adverse influence of fate.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra broke off, shaking his head. “Arjuna smashed into our host, which was protected by Droṇa and Karṇa. Even the gods could not have stopped him. Surely he is as irresistible as the surging ocean. And then there is Bhīma.
“Half my sons are dead. Bhīma will not rest until he has killed the other half. In the meantime, Arjuna, aided by Dṛṣṭadyumna and Sātyaki, will annihilate the other Kuru heroes. It is hard to believe. At the beginning of the war, our army outnumbered the Pāṇḍavas two to one. Now only four of our eleven divisions remain to the Pāṇḍavas’ three. The odds are now almost equal.”
His head down, Dhṛtarāṣṭra listened as Sañjaya described the conversation between Duryodhana and Droṇa. Hearing that the preceptor had again vowed to slay the Pāṇḍava forces, the old king became encouraged. The war was not over. Droṇa and Karṇa were still alive, as well as Kṛpa, Aśvatthāmā, and a number of other warriors. They would be burning with anger and a desire to avenge Jayadratha’s death. Perhaps, too, Arjuna would be fatigued after exerting himself so tremendously. Things may yet turn the other way. Wars had often been won by rallying troops when all had seemed hopeless.
Sañjaya, seeing Dhṛtarāṣṭra looking more hopeful, said, “O King, you should not forget that Kṛṣṇa is the Pāṇḍavas’ guide and protector. It was due to His help that Arjuna succeeded today. Your men have no hope if they oppose Keśava in battle. He is the unfailing defender of the righteous and the annihilator of the demonic. Steeped in sin and ignorant of virtue, your sons are bringing a terrible calamity upon themselves and their friends. Their single hope lies in returning the Pāṇḍavas’ rightful property. However, O King, I fear the opportunity for that has passed. This is your fault. It will result in a massive destruction of kṣatriyas.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra remembered the inconceivable form Kṛṣṇa had displayed in the hall where he now sat. After that, he had heard about Kṛṣṇa’s many glories from the ṛṣis--descriptions he had heard before. Trying to bring the king to his senses, the ṛṣis had again reminded him how Kṛṣṇa had killed numerous Asuras, who were capable of assuming forms at will and who had terrorized even the gods.
Feeling a strange sense of peace as he thought of Kṛṣṇa, Dhṛtarāṣṭra said, “Even if by chance we are able to defeat the Pāṇḍavas, we will still have to contend with Keśava. For their interests He will take up His irresistible discus and rush against my forces like the all-consuming fire of universal destruction. After destroying the Kurus He will offer the earth to Kuntī. I do not see how we can attain victory. Duryodhana is ignorant of Kṛṣṇa’s position and power. The faithless fool is a slave to his own senses. He can never understand the Absolute Truth. He is like a child who wishes to extinguish fire with his hands. Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa are united as one soul. Their aims and desires are one, and even the mighty Śiva cannot thwart them.”
Thinking of his son, the king again felt sorrow fill his heart. Would he ever see him again? It seemed unlikely. He would probably die in this battle. Yet the ways of fate were inscrutable. Even Kṛṣṇa, it seemed, could not prevent Abhimanyu’s death. Surely He could not have wanted that son of His dear friend and sister to die. Gripped by the duality of realizing the inevitable and yet hoping to resist it, the king rose from his seat and his servants led him away. He told Sañjaya to return the next day and recount any events of the night, and how the battle began again.
* * *
As the sun rose on the fourteenth day, Duryodhana, seething as he recalled the events of the previous day, spoke with Karṇa. “How was it possible for Arjuna to penetrate our ranks yesterday? Before your eyes he slew Jayadratha. Even with Kṛṣṇa’s devious trick, it should still not have been possible. My once vast army has been reduced to a pitiable few by Śakra’s son. Surely this must be Droṇa’s desire. I cannot accept that the preceptor is fighting to his full power. If he had opposed Arjuna with all his strength yesterday, then Jayadratha would not have been killed. Arjuna is exceedingly dear to the magnanimous Droṇa. Fool that I was, I believed him when he promised to protect Jayadratha. Now I am despairing.”
Karṇa did not agree. “I do not think you should blame the preceptor. Heedless of his own life he fights our enemies furiously. It is not his fault that he failed to prevent Arjuna, guided by Kṛṣṇa, from fulfilling his vow. Clad in impenetrable armor and wielding the Gāṇḍīva bow, he is formidable. It was no wonder to me that he overcame Droṇa. Furthermore, the preceptor is old and not so agile or quick. How can he contend with Arjuna on equal terms?”
Karṇa and Duryodhana were riding out on their chariots as they spoke. Ahead of them in the distance they saw the Pāṇḍava forces spread across the horizon. With their armor and weapons glinting in the sun, their army appeared like a sparkling sea. Their roars and conch blasts were answered by the Kauravas’ warriors.
Karṇa put on his helmet as he continued. “In my opinion, destiny is supreme. Despite our efforts and our numbers, and even though our army contains the greatest heroes, still, fate makes our endeavor futile. O King, a man afflicted by adverse fate finds all his exertions useless. We have constantly antagonized the Pāṇḍavas, yet they have always emerged unharmed. I do not see that they are superior to us in either intellect or power, nor do I feel that you have miscalculated through lack of understanding. It is fate alone that controls everything. If destiny has decreed that we should suffer reversals, then nothing in our power can alter that fact.”
Duryodhana remained silent. Perhaps Karṇa was right. Fortune had surely favored the Pāṇḍavas. But fortune was always flickering. Surely it was time it favored him. Droṇa had sworn to annihilate the Pañchālas and Somakas, the major remnant of the Pāṇḍava army. If he kept his vow, then they might still attain victory. The prince clenched his teeth and looked at Droṇa, who was busy marshaling the troops into formation. It would not help if he censured him any more.
Duryodhana’s chariot reached the other Kuru leaders and he issued orders and made arrangements. Having agreed upon a strategy for the day’s fighting, the Kauravas formed themselves into an array shaped like a turtle. In response, the Pāṇḍavas aligned their troops in an arrangement resembling a shark. The two armies came together cheering, their weapons clashing as a huge cloud of dust rose above the battlefield.
Determined to end the conflict as quickly as possible, Bhīma sought out the remaining Kaurava princes. As he charged into the enemy ranks, he was surrounded by elephants and horsemen, who rained down their weapons on the roaring Pāṇḍava. As a fierce battle began, Dṛṣṭadyumna and the twins rushed against the Madraka army. Susharma and the remainder of the Samshaptakas, remembering their vow, challenged Arjuna. Sātyaki stayed close to Yudhiṣṭhira, protecting him along with Śikhaṇḍī and other chariot fighters.
Droṇa encountered the Pañchālas and showered them with tens of thousands of arrows. Invoking celestial weapons, he swiftly cut them down. A powerful king named Sibi, charging at the head of the Somakas, roared out his battle cry and challenged Droṇa. He struck him with thirty arrows and slew his charioteer. Droṇa was infuriated and replied with ten arrows made of steel. He slew Sibi’s four horses, cut down his standard, and severed the king’s head as he stood in the fight.
Duryodhana ordered another charioteer onto Droṇa’s chariot, and Droṇa continued to fight the Pañchālas and Somakas together.
Bhīma was surrounded by a number of Kaurava princes. They assailed him from all sides with arrows. Not concerned about their attack, Bhīma jumped down from his chariot and ran over to one of them. Leaping onto his chariot, he smashed him with his fists. With all his limbs broken the prince toppled lifeless from his chariot. Bhīma leapt down and raced over to another prince, striking and killing him in the same way. Karṇa came to the Kauravas’ protection, hurling a flaming dart at Bhīma as he ran across the field. Bhīma faced that dart and caught it, immediately hurling it back at Karṇa. As it flew toward Karṇa, Śakuni cut it down with a razor-headed shaft.
Oblivious to the Kauravas’ arrows, Bhīma caught hold of another prince and killed him with one mighty slap. He then remounted his chariot and blew his conch. With a volley of gold-winged shafts he smashed the chariot of Durmada, another of Duryodhana’s brothers. Durmada ran over to his brother Duskarna’s chariot and leapt aboard. Both princes stood together firing their straight-flying arrows at Bhīma by the hundreds. Bhīma rushed at Duskarna and demolished his chariot with a single mace blow. The two princes jumped clear, but Bhīma leapt down and pounded them with his fists. Struck repeatedly by Bhīma they both fell dead, their bodies pulverized.
Seeing Bhīma ranging among them like an all-destroying tempest, the Kauravas cried out in fear. “Surely this is Rudra himself come as Bhīma for our annihilation! Let us flee for our lives.”
The soldiers ran wildly from Bhīma. No two were seen to be running together as they fled without looking back. Returning to his chariot, Bhīma fought with Duryodhana, Kṛpa and Karṇa. As he battled alone, a number of other Pāṇḍava warriors came to his support and a violent struggle ensued.
Elsewhere on the battlefield Somadatta encountered Sātyaki. Enraged at his son’s slaughter, the Kuru leader bellowed, “Why, O Satvata hero, have you forgotten the religious codes of warfare and taken to evil practices? How can a virtuous person strike one who has laid aside his weapons? This will lead to your downfall, O mean-minded one. You will now suffer the consequences of your vile act. I swear by my two sons that I will either kill you or be killed by you today. If this does not come to pass, then may I fall into dreadful hell. Stand ready, wretch, for I will now let go my deadliest weapons.”
Somadatta blew his conch and roared like a lion. Sātyaki was infuriated by his speech and he thundered back, “O descendent of Kuru, I am not afraid of you or your empty words. Why should one conversant with kṣatriya duty quake when confronted by such threats? Fight to your utmost power, either alone or with your supporters, and I will slay you. I killed your son along with many other powerful Kurus. Indeed, they have all been slain by the anger of the virtuous and ever-truthful Yudhiṣṭhira. Having chosen him as your enemy, O lord of men, you too will follow the path they have taken. Guard yourself. I swear by Kṛṣṇa’s feet and by all my past pious acts that I will kill you today.”
Both men began to discharge volleys of arrows. Observing the fight from a distance, Duryodhana sent a large division of horsemen to support his old uncle. Ten thousand of them hemmed in Sātyaki and covered him with arrows. Dṛṣṭadyumna saw Sātyaki’s position and came to his aid, along with a great force of Pāṇḍava warriors. A deafening tumult arose as the two armies met. Somadatta concentrated his attack on Sātyaki, sending a cluster of blood-sucking shafts at him. The Vrishni hero responded with arrows that pierced Somadatta’s armor and made him swoon. His charioteer carried him away from the fight.
Droṇa rushed into the battle hoping to slay Sātyaki. Shouting out his battle cry, he hurled powerful weapons at the Vrishni warrior, who was contending with the thousands of other fighters all around him. Yudhiṣṭhira and the twins, seeing Sātyaki under attack by Droṇa, roared in anger and entered the fight. They assailed Droṇa from all sides and diverted his attack from Sātyaki. Bhīma and Dṛṣṭadyumna joined them, and Duryodhana, Karṇa and Kṛpa came to support the Kauravas. With the heroes on both sides backed by numerous troops, a fierce and confused fight ensued. Arrows, darts, lances and other weapons flew through the air. Maces collided in showers of sparks and swords clashed. Wrathful warriors hacked and lunged at each other. The heads, limbs and entrails of slain warriors covered the ground. With screams and roars they fell upon each other, blinded by rage.
Some way off, Ghaṭotkaca was moving across the field. The Rākṣasa was mounted on an eight-wheeled chariot made of black iron and spread with bearskins. Furnished with all types of weapons, it emitted a terrifying noise as it moved across the field. It was a celestial chariot, and it was drawn by beasts of the underworld who resembled elephants but who had horns and blazing red eyes. On its banner was a great black vulture with outspread wings and feet, and it gave off frightful screeches. Around its sides were red flags and rows of bones. Ghaṭotkaca stood on the chariot like a dark mountain. With his long fangs, arrow-shaped ears, unnatural eyes and bald head, his sight sent the Kaurava troops dashing away in terror. He was surrounded by an akshauhini of Rākṣasa warriors armed with maces, spears, rocks and trees. They advanced into battle with roars that shook the earth.
Seeing him advance, Aśvatthāmā came before him. Proud of his ability with weapons, he stood unmoving as the Rākṣasas approached. Ghaṭotkaca laughed and used his mystic powers to make a shower of rocks fall on Aśvatthāmā and the soldiers supporting him. With the stones fell arrows, spears, axes and clubs. Releasing an arrow charged with mantras, Aśvatthāmā checked the downpour. Ghaṭotkaca then released fifty shafts that dug into Aśvatthāmā’s armor and body. Droṇa’s son, maintaining his equilibrium, replied with a dozen arrows that cut into the Rākṣasa. Ghaṭotkaca, rocked by the assault, took up a thousand-spoked wheel with a razor-sharp edge. It shone like fire and was studded with gems. Spinning it, the Rākṣasa hurled it at Aśvatthāmā.
With twenty crescent-headed shafts, Aśvatthāmā broke the wheel to pieces. It fell uselessly to the ground like the purposes of a man under the influence of adverse destiny. Ghaṭotkaca followed the attack with a volley of shafts that completely covered Aśvatthāmā. The Rākṣasa’s son, Anjanaparva, then came to his side and joined the assault on Aśvatthāmā. He attacked him with hundreds of long arrows fitted with barbed heads and soaked in oil.
Swallowed by shafts, Aśvatthāmā appeared like Mount Meru drenched by a shower of rain. His charioteer swiftly wheeled his chariot around, and as he came clear of the onslaught, he released an arrow that cut down Anjanaparva’s standard. With two more shafts he slew his two charioteers. He then killed his horses, and with another razor-faced arrow cut apart his bow.
Anjanaparva leapt from his chariot brandishing a scimitar embellished with golden stars, but he had hardly fixed his gaze on Aśvatthāmā before Droṇa’s son cut the weapon apart with three arrows. The Rākṣasa took up a mace decked with gold. Swinging it around, he hurled it at Aśvatthāmā, who broke it to pieces with his arrows. Anjanaparva jumped into the sky and rained down trees and rocks onto his opponent. At the same time, Ghaṭotkaca fired thousands of fire-tipped shafts at Aśvatthāmā. Simultaneously countering Ghaṭotkaca’s attack and fighting Anjanaparva, Aśvatthāmā shot arrows into the air which pierced Anjanaparva all over his body. As the Rākṣasa descended to the ground, Aśvatthāmā released a broad-headed shaft with all his strength. Empowered by mantras, the shaft tore off Anjanaparva’s head, which fell to the earth like a black boulder, its bright earrings gleaming like seams of gold.
Shaking with grief and rage, Ghaṭotkaca roared, “Stand and fight! You will not escape alive from me today.”
Aśvatthāmā lowered his bow and replied derisively, “O celestially powerful one, you should fight with others. As Bhīma’s offspring you are like my son. It is improper for me to fight you, nor do I feel angry with you. Leave now while I still feel kindly disposed toward you, for a man excited by rage may kill even his own self.”
Ghaṭotkaca was even more incensed and he seemed to blaze as he bellowed, “What!? Am I like an ordinary man that you are trying to frighten me with your words? I am the emperor of the Rākṣasas. My prowess is no less than that of the ten-headed Rāvaṇa. O son of Droṇa, stay for only a moment more in this fight and I will put an end to your life.”
The maddened Rākṣasa fired his long arrows at Aśvatthāmā, but Droṇa’s son struck them all down before they could reach him. Both warriors released clouds of arrows which appeared to fight each other in the sky. The shafts collided, creating sparks and fire that illuminated the battlefield. By his mystic power, Ghaṭotkaca disappeared from view and suddenly assumed the shape of a towering mountain abounding in peaks and trees. At its summit was a fountain that incessantly showered spears, darts, swords and heavy clubs.
Remaining calm, Aśvatthāmā invoked the Vajra weapon which destroyed the Rākṣasa’s illusion. Ghaṭotkaca again appeared in the sky wielding his bow. With his numerous gold ornaments he seemed like a blue cloud adorned with a rainbow. He invoked a weapon that sent a thick shower of rocks onto Aśvatthāmā. The heavy stones shook the earth as they fell. Reciting ancient incantations, Aśvatthāmā at once invoked the Vāyavya weapon. Unlimited numbers of arrows flew from his bow and smashed all the rocks as they fell from the sky. With the divine wind weapon Aśvatthāmā went on to assail the Rākṣasa army and destroyed thousands of them.
Ghaṭotkaca returned to the ground and mounted his chariot. Surrounded by a host of Rākṣasas, who had the heads of lions and tigers and rode upon fearful-looking animals, he charged. Aśvatthāmā stood firm as the hordes rushed toward him screaming in discordant voices. Led by Bhīma’s son, they appeared like an army of hideous-looking ghosts and spirits with Rudra at their head.
Ghaṭotkaca released ten arrows that struck Aśvatthāmā like thunderbolts. Aśvatthāmā rocked in his chariot, but kept his balance. Ghaṭotkaca fired another shaft that broke Aśvatthāmā’s bow, but he strung another one in a matter of seconds. By means of celestial weapons he shot hundreds of thousands of sky-ranging shafts with golden wings. Sorely oppressed by those arrows, the Rākṣasa forces looked like a herd of elephants attacked by a lion. The shafts fell upon their broad chests and arms, piercing through their armor and digging into their leathery skins.
Aśvatthāmā became like Śiva when he had destroyed the powerful Asura Tripura in a long past age. His celestial weapons claimed the lives of countless Rākṣasas. More and more of the demons appeared on the battlefield, rising up from the nether regions to join Ghaṭotkaca. They rushed in a body at Aśvatthāmā, wielding spiked maces, scimitars, clubs, lances, axes, and many weapons unknown to men. They hurled them at Droṇa’s son and roared exultantly. Seeing all the weapons falling on Aśvatthāmā, the Kauravas felt distressed, but Droṇa’s son soon dispelled the attack with thousands of his own shafts. He emerged from the shower of missiles and destroyed the Rākṣasas by celestial weapons. Fiery darts from his bow consumed the Rākṣasa army. Aśvatthāmā annihilated Ghaṭotkaca’s forces.
With his eyes rolling in anger, Ghaṭotkaca ordered his charioteer to charge Aśvatthāmā. He discharged arrows like poisonous serpents at Aśvatthāmā and checked his attack. Completely covering Droṇa’s son with shafts resembling long barbed poles, Ghaṭotkaca sent up a great roar. Other warriors entered the fight, some supporting Ghaṭotkaca and others Aśvatthāmā. Dṛṣṭadyumna came up to Ghaṭotkaca, while Śakuni and his followers supported Aśvatthāmā. Drupada and his army attacked the Kauravas surrounding Duryodhana, with Bhīma following him on his chariot, his mace whirling as he rushed into battle.
As a fervent battle ensued between the armies, Aśvatthāmā suddenly released a shaft that looked like the rod held by Death personified. Charged with the force of Indra’s thunderbolt, it struck Ghaṭotkaca on the chest and threw him to the ground. Dṛṣṭadyumna saw him fall and he quickly took him up onto his own chariot and carried him away.
2.20: The Night Battle
As the sun approached the western hills, Sātyaki once again encountered Somadatta. He told his charioteer to bear him toward the Kuru. “His time has come. I will not return from this battle without slaying him.”
Somadatta confronted him without fear. The two kṣatriyas pierced one another with snake-like arrows. They roared furiously and circled one another, each maintaining a fierce assault on his opponent. With blood running from their many wounds, they looked like a couple of kinshuka trees in full bloom. Casting angry glances, the heroes fought relentlessly, looking for weakness in the other.
Somadatta’s father, Bāhlika, rode up to assist his son. Seeing this, Bhīma came to Sātyaki’s aid. Bāhlika met him with a volley of arrows. Shrugging off the shafts, which were deflected by his thick armor, Bhīma raised his bow. He shot hundreds of yard-long arrows at Bāhlika, but the old warrior cut them down in mid-flight. He retaliated with a long steel shaft fitted with a barbed point. Fired with all Bāhlika’s power, the arrow struck Bhīma on the chest and pierced his armor. Bhīma trembled and swooned. Regaining his senses as Bāhlika closed in to press his advantage, Bhīma took up an iron mace and hurled it at his opponent. It sped through the air like a fireball and struck Bāhlika on the forehead. The Kuru general died instantly and he fell headlong from his chariot.
Somadatta, still fighting with Sātyaki, cried out in grief as his father died. He trained his arrows on Bhīma, but Sātyaki showered him with shafts and drew him away from the Pāṇḍava. Somadatta fought in a frenzy. He cut Sātyaki’s bow in two with a broad-headed arrow and struck him with countless more. Sātyaki took up another bow and with a volley of shafts cut down Somadatta’s standard and killed his charioteer and horses. Somadatta stood his ground and covered his foe with arrows that flew in straight lines from his bow. Sātyaki raised a spear and hurled it at Somadatta’s chest with all his power, but Somadatta cut that iron lance with arrows as it coursed toward him. Sātyaki, screaming in anger, again sundered his opponent’s bow. At the same time, he smashed his armor with a number of crescent-headed shafts.
Seeing his opponent momentarily stunned, Sātyaki took up a long arrow resembling a golden spear. He fixed it to his bow and charged it with mantras. The shaft hit Somadatta in the chest and split his heart in two. He fell from his chariot like a sal tree severed at its root. The Kauravas wailed in anguish. Seizing their advantage, the Pāṇḍava forces pressed them back with a brutal assault. Headed by Bhīma, Yudhiṣṭhira and the twins, they flew against their dispirited foes with furious yells.
Duryodhana went over to Karṇa. “The time has now come, O you who are devoted to your friends, when your friends seek your assistance. O Karṇa, save my soldiers. The Pāṇḍavas are roaring in ecstasy and crushing our forces like Indra crushes the Asuras.”
Karṇa reassured the anxious Kaurava. “O King, I will soon destroy the Pāṇḍavas. The time has come for me to kill Arjuna. With him gone, his brothers will be finished and your victory will be assured. I will employ the unfailing dart Indra gave me. Give up your sorrow. After killing Arjuna, I will destroy your other enemies and hand you the earth.”
Karṇa broke away from Duryodhana and roared. He looked at the dart secure in its golden case at the front of his chariot. So far, no opportunity had arisen for him to use it. Arjuna had always been engaged in some other part of the field. But things were coming to a head. The war was reaching its climax and all the great fighters would soon meet in fights to the finish. He would challenge Arjuna to single combat. One way or another, it would be their final encounter.
Kṛpa was nearby and overheard Karṇa’s words. He laughed. “Well spoken, son of Radha. If only words were sufficient, Duryodhana could consider himself successful. O hero, we have yet to see your words backed by action. Whenever you have encountered the Pāṇḍavas, you have been defeated.”
Kṛpa reminded Karṇa of the incident with the Gandharvas in the forest and of the battle on Virata’s field. “Your boasts are like the roaring of rainless autumn clouds. They will cease the moment you face Pārtha in battle. Roar now while you are still beyond the range of his arrows, for when you are pierced by his shafts, you will be silent forever.”
Upset by Kṛpa’s words, Karṇa replied, “Why do you revile me, O Brahmin? Wise men who know their own power roar and speak of their strength. Thus they gain inspiration to perform great deeds. You will soon see the proof of my boasts when I slay Arjuna, together with Kṛṣṇa, Dṛṣṭadyumna and all their followers.”
Kṛpa looked disdainfully at Karṇa. “Your words are little more than a madman’s ravings. Arjuna cannot be slain by any creature within the three worlds, nor can the virtuous Yudhiṣṭhira be conquered. Simply by his angry glance he could, if he desired, consume all beings. It is only his compassion and piety that allows us to live. Kṛṣṇa always protects him and his brothers, and no one can know or approach Kṛṣṇa. It is only your impudence that allows you to think you can face Arjuna in battle.”
Karṇa tried to smile through his rising anger. “No doubt your words are true, twice-born one. The Pāṇḍavas are all this and more. Yet I am greater and will still vanquish my enemy. Do not underestimate me and consider me an ordinary man. I still have in my possession Indra’s infallible dart. It will kill whomever I hurl it at. Indra himself told me that. The gods’ words are never futile. I plan to direct this dart at Arjuna. When I slay him, he will join his father in heaven. His brothers will then be incapable of continuing the fight. This is why I roar, O weak Brahmin, seeing our imminent victory.”
Karṇa lost control of his temper and insulted Kṛpa. He accused him of favoring the Pāṇḍavas and threatened to cut out his tongue if he again spoke in such a way. Raising his voice he went on, “I see no real prowess in the Pāṇḍavas’ feats. We are also destroying their forces. The fact that great heroes like Bhīṣma, Bhagadatta, Bhurisrava, Somadatta, Jayadratha and others now lie on the battlefield is only due to fate. How could the Pāṇḍavas have slain such men, especially in the presence of Droṇa, you, the king, me, and other heroes? Only adverse destiny is to blame; but you, O most base of men, choose to praise our enemies. You will soon see their actual power when they meet with me in battle.”
Aśvatthāmā heard Karṇa insulting his maternal uncle. Droṇa’s son had never had much time for Karṇa, who showed little respect for his elders. Now he had gone too far. Kṛpa was a Brahmin and the Kurus’ teacher. He did not deserve to be mistreated by the charioteer’s son. Aśvatthāmā took out his sword and jumped from his chariot, roaring at Karṇa. “How dare you speak like that, fool! The ācārya spoke the truth about Arjuna and his brothers, but because you are envious you could not tolerate it. O wretch of a charioteer, you brag too much and do little. We have already seen your power when matched against Arjuna. Even the celestials and Asuras could not overcome Arjuna. Still, you hope to somehow defeat him yourself. Besides his own strength, Arjuna has the unconquerable Kṛṣṇa as his ally. O vilest of men, I will not stand by as you insult my uncle. Stand before me and I will cut your head from your body.”
Karṇa came down from his chariot to meet Aśvatthāmā’s challenge. Seeing two of his most powerful fighters ready to fight to the death, Duryodhana became alarmed. He ran forward and stood between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
Karṇa drew out his sword and said, “O best of the Kurus, stand aside. This one of evil understanding shall now taste my power.”
Still holding onto both men, Duryodhana said, “O Aśvatthāmā, please forgive him. Do not be angry with Karṇa. The Pāṇḍavas are shouting out their battle cries and coming at us from all sides. I need you both if we are to overpower them. Be pacified.”
Seeing Duryodhana’s anxiety, Aśvatthāmā calmed himself and said, “O Karṇa, I forgive you. Arjuna will soon enough crush your swelling pride.”
Reluctantly, Karṇa pulled away from Duryodhana and lowered his sword. Still seething, he glared at Aśvatthāmā.
Kṛpa, who was naturally of a mild disposition, said, “O wicked- minded Karṇa, I also forgive you. It is a fact that Arjuna will soon destroy your arrogance.”
While the Kuru chiefs had been speaking, the battle raged around them. The exultant Pāṇḍava forces had pushed forward and were routing the Kauravas.
Karṇa, still furious from Aśvatthāmā’s rebuke, looked around at the Pāṇḍava troops. It was time to show his full power. He remounted his chariot and charged into the fray. Drawing his long bow back to his ear, he began to release shafts that flew like fire-tipped rockets. Charioteers and horsemen fell by the hundreds as the arrows whistled from his bow.
Some of the Pāṇḍava warriors shouted, “Here is Karṇa! O Karṇa, most sinful of men, give us battle.” Others said, “This crooked-minded man is the root of all these evils. He deserves to be killed by every king who values virtue. Arrogant and sinful, he abides by Duryodhana’s order. Slay him at once!”
Yudhiṣṭhira marshaled his troops into a force that surrounded Karṇa. Thousands of warriors rained down arrows, darts, lances and iron balls covered with flaming oil. Seeing himself assailed by so many warriors, Karṇa displayed his skill as he whirled about on his chariot and countered their attack. Thousands of weapons dropped uselessly to the earth as Karṇa fearlessly cut them to pieces with his arrows.
Shaking their bows and roaring, the Pāṇḍavas stepped up their attack. They covered Karṇa with a mass of arrows that screened him from view, but Karṇa broke through the assault by firing his own shafts with blinding speed. Coming clear of the shower of weapons, he launched a counter-offensive. He mowed down the Pāṇḍava troops. Sending arrows inspired by mantras, he slew thousands of warriors at a time. As Karṇa ranged about like the sun pouring forth scorching rays at noon, the Pāṇḍava army cried out. They looked about for a protector and ran here and there in fear.
Bhīma then rushed forward and challenged Karṇa. Karṇa clenched his teeth and shot a powerful shaft that cut down Bhīma’s standard. As the tall pole fell, he fired four more arrows that killed his horses. With another five shafts he pierced Vishoka, who leapt down and ran across to Sātyaki’s chariot, arrows protruding from his body.
Incensed, Bhīma took up a long, steel-tipped lance. Balancing it in his hand he hurled it with all his power. Karṇa cut it down with ten arrows. As the fragments of the lance fell to the ground, Bhīma took up a resplendent sword and a shield decorated with a hundred moons. He leapt from his chariot and rushed at Karṇa, who destroyed the shield with a dozen razor-faced arrows. Undaunted, Bhīma flung the sword and it flew at Karṇa like a dart, hitting his bow and cutting it in half.
Karṇa took up another bow and aimed hundreds of shafts at Bhīma. Bhīma bounded high into the air and landed next to Karṇa’s chariot. Seeing him appear like Yamarāja himself, Karṇa ducked down in his chariot. His charioteer urged on his horses and the chariot pulled away from Bhīma. Karṇa stood again on the terrace of his chariot and launched fifty steel arrows at Bhīma almost as if they were one. Pierced by the shafts, Bhīma ran into the midst of an elephant division. With blows from his fists he felled a number of the beasts, surrounding himself with their bodies to protect himself from Karṇa’s chariot. Seeing Karṇa still trying to reach him, Bhīma lifted one of the elephants and tossed it at him. Karṇa cut the elephant to pieces with arrows and continued his attack. He rained down shafts, trying to slay Bhīma, who had no weapon, but Bhīma nimbly dodged Karṇa’s arrows and leapt into the air.
Maddened, Bhīma hurled horses, chariots, elephant limbs, and anything else he could find on the field, but Karṇa cut everything to pieces with his arrows. Bhīma practically breathed fire. He knew he could kill the charioteer’s son with his bare hands, but he wanted to respect Arjuna’s vow. Therefore, it was not yet time for Karṇa to die. Deciding to leave the fight, he came out from behind the elephants and ran toward the Pāṇḍava warriors. Karṇa did not relent. He struck Bhīma with hundreds of powerful arrows that checked his progress on the field. Remembering his promise to Kuntī, he did not attempt to kill Bhīma. Karṇa knew he could kill only one Pāṇḍava: Arjuna.
Karṇa rode over to Bhīma and hit him on the head with the end of his bow, laughing. “O ignorant and impotent fool, go and fight with others. You are no match for a real man. Your only prowess lies in eating. The battlefield is no place for a boy like you. Rather, you should renounce the warrior’s life and remain in the forest. Go now while I am still inclined toward you. Find Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa and ask for their protection.”
Controlling himself with difficulty, Bhīma replied, “O wicked fool, I have repeatedly defeated you and it is only by your fate that you still live. How do you indulge in such vain bragging? Even if you defeated me, what would it prove? The ancients have seen even Indra’s victories and defeats. Come down from your chariot and wrestle with me if you dare. I will show you how I killed Kichaka.”
Suddenly, Arjuna appeared on the battlefield not far from Karṇa. Seeing him standing over Bhīma, who was on foot, he sped a number of arrows at him. Bhīma took the opportunity to escape. Karṇa looked up and saw his antagonist. Licking his lips he glanced down at his Śakti weapon. Soon the Pāṇḍavas would lament.
Arjuna struck Karṇa with a volley of shafts that made him wince and drop his bow. Quickly regaining his senses, he responded with a hundred straight-flying arrows. Arjuna cut them down and continuously struck his foe with countless other shafts. As Karṇa struggled to regain his composure, Arjuna released a long arrow resembling a serpent. Inspired with mantras the shaft flew straight at Karṇa with the speed of the wind. Aśvatthāmā saw the arrow flying for Karṇa’s destruction and, remembering his duty as a kṣatriya and his debt to Duryodhana, cut it down with a razor-headed shaft inspired with mantras. He then turned to attack Arjuna and draw him away from Karṇa, who was fatigued from his fight with Bhīma.
As the armies supporting the principal warriors surged forward, a general fight ensued. Karṇa lost sight of Arjuna as he was engaged by other Pāṇḍava warriors.
* * *
The sun was setting, but neither side sounded the retreat. As twilight set in, they continued fighting with full force. More than three-quarters of the warriors on both sides had been slain. It was obvious that the war would soon be over. Darkness fell with both armies frantically seeking victory, contending by the light of thousands of torches. Barely able to distinguish friend from foe, they savagely assailed another. Blazing arrows lit the sky, and the wreckage of burning chariots silhouetted soldiers locked in battle. The moon rose and cast an eerie glow across the battlefield, which rang out with the continuous clash of weapons and the cries of warriors.
Arjuna, having annihilated almost all of the Samshaptakas, turned the full force of his weapons onto the surviving Kauravas. Displaying his long-practiced skill of striking invisible targets, he destroyed his enemies like a fire destroys dry grass. The Kauravas screamed in terror as his arrows came out of the darkness and cut them to pieces. They fled, falling over one another in their haste to escape.
Duryodhana called to his fleeing troops, “Stop! Do not fear. I will destroy Pārtha along with all his brothers. Stand and fight, for you will now witness my incomparable prowess.”
The prince shouted orders and charged in Arjuna’s direction, followed by a large division of charioteers and horsemen. Seeing this, Kṛpa went to Aśvatthāmā and said, “The king has lost all caution in his rage. Recklessly, he is rushing at Arjuna. If he is not checked, Arjuna will burn him to ashes. Go and stop him.”
Aśvatthāmā went after Duryodhana and called out, “O son of Gāndhārī, as long as I am living, you need not fight. I will check Pārtha. Why did you not order me, who am always devoted to your welfare?”
Clutching his bow and a handful of arrows, Duryodhana shouted back, “It seems that your esteemed father is protecting the Pāṇḍavas like his own children. You too have not yet displayed your full power in battle. Otherwise, how could my enemies still survive? Fie on my avaricious self, for whose sake so many kings have died. O son of Kripi, be gratified. Slay my foes with your celestial weapons, which are equal to those of Śiva himself. Who is there who can stay within range of your missiles? O son of a Brahmin, you are surely capable of routing the Pāṇḍavas and all their forces. Go speedily into battle and do us good. We now depend on you.”
Duryodhana had stopped some distance from Arjuna. He could see Hanumān on his banner glowing in the darkness. Arjuna’s chariot roved about the field leaving a trail of destruction as flaming arrows shot out in all directions.
Aśvatthāmā replied, “O Kaurava, it is true that the Pāṇḍavas are dear to my father, just as they are dear to me. We are also dear to them. But in battle, it is different. All friendships are forgotten. Karṇa, Śalya, Kṛtavarmā, Kṛpa, my father and I are doing all we can to defeat them.”
Aśvatthāmā was tired of hearing Duryodhana’s continuous accusations, especially against his father. Seeing the Kaurava prince as his equal in age and accomplishments--and his inferior in caste--he reproached him. “Surely, O King, you are mean-minded and possessed of crooked intelligence. Because you are conceited, sinful and avaricious, you trust nobody. Nevertheless, I will not abandon my duty. Today I will use all my power for your sake. You will see the Pañchālas, Somakas and Cediś totally destroyed. I will send whoever confronts me to Yamarāja’s mansion for their final reckoning.”
Aśvatthāmā’s chariot pulled away from Duryodhana and charged straight into the thick of the battle. Plunging into the Pañchāla forces, he called out, “O mighty chariot-warriors, strike me in a body and show your prowess. Stay in battle and be calm, because I will now display my power.”
Great showers of arrows were immediately directed at Aśvatthāmā, who quickly countered the attack. Before the Pāṇḍavas’ eyes he began annihilating the troops that surrounded him. Dṛṣṭadyumna approached him and shouted, “O preceptor’s son, why are you slaying ordinary soldiers? Here I am. If you are really a hero, then fight with me. I will soon dispatch you to Death’s abode.”
Dṛṣṭadyumna struck Aśvatthāmā with thick flights of dreadful-looking arrows. They pierced his body like maddened bees entering a flowering tree in search of honey. Aśvatthāmā became as furious as a kicked serpent. With blood running from his wounds, he dauntlessly resisted Dṛṣṭadyumna’s attack with his own shafts. Rebuking him in harsh words, he covered him with a volley of steel arrows.
Dṛṣṭadyumna laughed. “O Brahmin of wicked understanding, do you not know my origin and destiny? I will slay your father, and then I will kill you. You can leave today in safety. I will not kill you while your father still lives, for he deserves his death before you. When the sun rises tomorrow, I will cut him down with my arrows. A Brahmin who forgets his duty and takes up arms is a sinful wretch who deserves to be killed by any honest kṣatriya.”
Beside himself with rage, Aśvatthāmā fired innumerable arrows at Dṛṣṭadyumna. The Pañchāla prince stood unmoving on his chariot and warded off Aśvatthāmā’s attack. As the fight between the two heroes continued, the celestials watched in awe from the sky. Both men displayed mystical weapons, which lit up the heavens. Unable to gain the advantage over Dṛṣṭadyumna, Aśvatthāmā suddenly slew his horses and charioteer. He then rushed past him and slaughtered the Pañchāla troops by the thousands. Before anyone could check him, he had sent ten thousand horsemen and infantry to the next world.
Yudhiṣṭhira, Bhīma and the twins came swiftly to protect the troops, and a general battle ensued by the light of the rising moon. Heroes engaged with heroes and troops battled troops. As they fought on into the night, they recognized each other only by their shouts as they called out their names. With the onset of night, Ghaṭotkaca felt his strength doubled. Having recovered from Aśvatthāmā’s attack, he came back to the fight. Seeing him on the battlefield again, Kṛṣṇa said to Arjuna, “Behold Bhīma’s mighty son. In my opinion, he is the only warrior, other than yourself, capable of defeating Karṇa. We should at once send him against the charioteer’s son. Just see how Karṇa is destroying our troops. He is like the rising sun even at this grim hour. His arrows are mangling our troops. Look, they are fleeing in every direction.”
Kṛṣṇa pointed to Karṇa’s standard, lit up by torches and visible in the distance. Bent on annihilating the remaining Pāṇḍava forces, he ranged about the field with his bow constantly drawn, sending out fire-tipped arrows in unending lines.
Kṛṣṇa continued. “I do not think the time has come when you should confront Karṇa. He still has Indra’s Śakti weapon, which he is preserving for you, O Pārtha. Therefore, summon Ghaṭotkaca and order him to check the arrogant suta’s son. The Rākṣasa chief is conversant with every kind of Asuric weapon and will surely be a great threat to Karṇa.”
Arjuna looked across at Karṇa. He longed for the moment when he would be able to curb his pride once and for all. The Pāṇḍava knew about his Śakti weapon, but it did not bother him. He had faced every kind of celestial missile before in battle. Kṛṣṇa’s infallible advice, however, should be followed. Perhaps the Śakti was more powerful than he thought. Arjuna summoned Ghaṭotkaca and the Rākṣasa soon appeared before him, encased in armor and ready with bow and sword. Offering obeisances before both Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, he said, “Here I am, O rulers of men. Please order me.”
Kṛṣṇa replied, “Take my blessings, O Ghaṭotkaca, and hear what must be done. The hour for you to display your prowess has arrived. I do not see another who can accomplish what you can do. Over there stands the powerful Karṇa, hurling his weapons and scorching our army. None can stand before him but you. Therefore, become the raft which will carry us across the frightful Kaurava ocean, where Karṇa is its shark. Rescue your fathers and uncles, for this is the reason why a man begets sons. You are indeed a worthy son of Bhīma, O Rākṣasa, as you always desire his welfare. Use your illusions and power to check the fierce bowman Karṇa. Pāṇḍu’s sons, headed by Dṛṣṭadyumna, will engage with Droṇa and his forces.”
Arjuna told Ghaṭotkaca that he would send Sātyaki to protect him from other attacks as he fought with Karṇa. He should simply concentrate all his power on the suta’s son and his followers.
Ghaṭotkaca was overjoyed at the opportunity to serve his uncle and Kṛṣṇa. “I am up to this task, O Bharata. I am surely a match for Karṇa and any other powerful hero who cares to face me. As long as the world exists, men will speak of the battle I will fight tonight. Fighting in the Rākṣasa mode, I will spare no one, even those who solicit mercy with folded palms.”
Bowing again before Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa, Ghaṭotkaca then left and rushed toward Karṇa. He launched flaming arrows at him from a distance of two miles and bellowed out his challenge. Seeing the huge Rākṣasa bearing down upon him, Karṇa stopped slaughtering the Pāṇḍava troops and turned to face him. As a violent encounter took place, Alambusha approached Duryodhana and said, “Permit me to engage with the Pāṇḍavas, O King. I desire to slay them and offer their blood as an oblation to my deceased relatives. By some Rākṣasa-killing charm they managed to kill my brother Baka and my father Jatasura, but they will not escape me, for this night hour has doubled my power.”
Duryodhana smiled at the Rākṣasa. “Go and challenge Ghaṭotkaca. He is of your race and is waging a terrible battle with Karṇa. Ever devoted to the interests of the Pāṇḍavas, he is creating carnage among my troops.”
Alambusha looked across at Ghaṭotkaca and licked his lips. “I go at once.” He mounted his iron chariot with its spikes protruding from the sides and, uttering a deafening roar, charged.
Ghaṭotkaca, screaming hideously, maintained an unending assault on Karṇa and, at the same time, destroyed thousands of the warriors who supported him. As Alambusha came at him, he laughed and released a powerful volley of long iron shafts with flaming points. The scorching arrows struck Alambusha and checked his progress. Employing his Rākṣasa powers, Ghaṭotkaca then caused a tremendous downpour of shafts to appear on the battlefield. They fell on Karṇa, Alambusha, and all the Kauravas surrounding them. Alambusha displayed similar skills to produce arrows which countered those of his foe. For some time the two Rākṣasas fought, both exhibiting mystical illusions. Flaming rocks and lances fell from the sky. Ferocious beasts and ghastly-looking wraiths and spirits rose from the ground; their screams terrified the Kaurava soldiers who ran in fear. Even in the dark of night, an even denser darkness suddenly set in, making everything invisible.
As one Rākṣasa created an illusion, the other countered it with his own power. They fired countless arrows at one another and hurled darts, maces, iron balls, axes and lances. They roared in fury, making the earth vibrate. Ghaṭotkaca succeeded in smashing his opponent’s chariot with a number of steel shafts shot in swift succession. Alambusha leapt down and flew at Ghaṭotkaca with outstretched arms. He struck his antagonist with his bare fists, and Ghaṭotkaca shook like a mountain in an earthquake. Raising his own bludgeon-like arm, he dealt a crushing blow to Alambusha that sent him sprawling. Ghaṭotkaca jumped onto his foe and pressed his neck, but Alambusha wrestled himself free. The two Rākṣasas fought hand to hand as the hair of onlookers stood erect in fear. Striking and kicking, they threw each other to the ground. Both changed shapes--one becoming a great serpent and the other an eagle, one an elephant and the other a tiger, then a pair of sharabhas. Rising into the sky, they appeared like two planets colliding. They fought wonderfully, attacking each other with mallets, swords, spears, trees and mountain peaks.
Gradually, Ghaṭotkaca’s superior strength began to tell. Seeing Alambusha tiring, he seized him by the hair. He dashed him to the ground and dealt him a great kick. Taking hold of a shining scimitar, he jerked his head upwards and severed it from his trunk. Ghaṭotkaca got onto his chariot still holding the head. He went over to Duryodhana and tossed it into his chariot. Seeing the blood-soaked head, its face contorted and hair disheveled, Duryodhana was shocked. He looked over at Ghaṭotkaca, who shouted, “Just see your friend, O King, whose great prowess you have personally witnessed. You are destined to see Karṇa and indeed yourself meet a similar end. The scriptures say that one should never go before a king with empty hands. Accept, then, this head as my gift to you. Be free from anxiety only for as long as I do not slay Karṇa.”
Ghaṭotkaca turned away from Duryodhana and resumed his attack on Karṇa, who was hemmed in by Pāṇḍava warriors striving to hold him in check. The Rākṣasa sent a stream of shafts at Karṇa and the fight between them carried on in earnest. Like two tigers tearing each other with their claws, they mangled each other with their lances, arrows and darts. Their blazing shafts lit up the battlefield. No one could look at them as they released their weapons. Covered with wounds and steeped in their own blood, they resembled two hills of red chalk with rivulets flowing down their sides. Even though both were endeavoring to their utmost, they could not make the other flinch. The twang of their bows filled the four quarters like the continuous rumbling of thunder.
Realizing that he could not overpower his foe with arrows, Ghaṭotkaca invoked the Rākṣasa weapon. Karṇa was immediately encircled by a force of demons armed with large rocks, lances, trees and clubs. Other Rākṣasas appeared in the sky and rained down an incessant shower of javelins, battle-axes and iron wheels on Karṇa and the Kaurava army. Everyone fled in alarm. Only Karṇa, proud of his strength, did not flee. With tens of thousands of arrows he checked the Rākṣasa illusions and countered their weapons. Ghaṭotkaca rushed at Karṇa with his mace whirling above his head. Karṇa cut the mace apart with a dozen arrows and pierced his chest with twenty more. Stopped in his tracks, Ghaṭotkaca hurled at Karṇa a razor-edged discus adorned with jewels and shining brilliantly. Karṇa again cut the weapon to pieces almost as soon as it left the Rākṣasa’s hand.
Seeing his discus fall in fragments, Ghaṭotkaca blazed up in anger and covered Karṇa with arrows as Rāhu covers the sun. Karṇa countered his attack and sent a similar number of shafts at his foe. Ghaṭotkaca rose into the sky and soared above Karṇa’s head. He dropped rocks and trees on him by the hundreds, but Karṇa smashed them to pieces with his arrows. Invoking a celestial weapon, Karṇa pierced Ghaṭotkaca all over his body with so many arrows that he appeared like a porcupine with erect quills.
Ghaṭotkaca used his own illusory powers to counter Karṇa’s weapon, then disappeared from view. Suddenly, showers of arrows began to appear from all parts of the sky and from every quarter. They fell upon the Kauravas and Karṇa from all sides. Karṇa invoked other divine weapons, but Ghaṭotkaca appeared in a form with many huge heads and swallowed them. He ranged about the heavens and on the ground, seeming to be in many places at once. At one moment he was seen in a vast form and in the next he was as small as a thumb. He entered the earth and went high into the sky. Appearing at a great distance, he suddenly reappeared right next to Karṇa.
Ghaṭotkaca created a mountain on the battlefield which issued forth a shower of weapons. Karṇa, unruffled, broke the mountain to pieces by means of a celestial missile. The Rākṣasa then created a dense blue cloud above Karṇa that dropped a thick shower of boulders. Karṇa blew the cloud away with the Vāyavya weapon. With limitless arrows, he continuously destroyed the Rākṣasa illusions. Thousands of demons then attacked Karṇa with every kind of deadly weapon. Karṇa checked all his attackers with swift shafts shot with such speed that they could not be seen until they struck their target. The afflicted Rākṣasa forces appeared like a host of wild elephants assailed by an angry lion. Karṇa destroyed them like the god of fire burning down all creatures at the end of creation. Only Ghaṭotkaca could stand before the enraged Karṇa as he released his weapons.
Bhīma’s son then created a chariot created by his own powers of illusion. The chariot resembled a hill and was yoked to a hundred goblin-headed asses as big as elephants. They drew Ghaṭotkaca close to Karṇa, and the Rākṣasa hurled a celestial lance at him that blazed through the sky like a lightning bolt. Amazing all the onlookers, Karṇa caught the lance and threw it back at Ghaṭotkaca. The surprised Rākṣasa leapt clear and the lance hit his chariot, smashing it into a thousand flaming pieces and killing its horses and charioteer. As his chariot exploded, Ghaṭotkaca rose again into the sky. Karṇa directed numerous celestial weapons at him, but he avoided them all by his agility and illusory powers.
He multiplied himself into a hundred forms so that Karṇa could not distinguish which of them was actually his enemy. Then he made ferocious animals appear from all directions. Lions, tigers, hyenas, fire-tongued snakes and iron-beaked vultures issued forth and ran screaming or roaring at Karṇa and the other Kauravas. Packs of wolves and leopards with gruesome features rushed across the field, along with numerous ghosts, pishachas, jinn and men with beasts’ heads. Karṇa remained steadfast on his chariot and struck all the creatures with straight-flying shafts. Uttering incantations sacred to the sun-god, he burned up his assailants by the tens of thousands. Struck by Karṇa’s mantra-charged arrows, their bodies fell to the earth in charred and mutilated pieces.
Ghaṭotkaca vanished from sight and boomed out at Karṇa from across the sky, “Your end is near, wretch. Wait and I will slay you.”
Karṇa, unable to see his opponent, covered the sky with arrows. Suddenly, a great red cloud appeared in the heavens, casting a red glow over the battlefield. It emitted flashes of lightning and tongues of fire. The cloud roared as if thousands of drums were being beaten simultaneously. From it fell countless gold-winged shafts, spears, heavy clubs, spiked bludgeons, razor-edged discuses and numerous other weapons. They dropped on the surviving Kauravas, who wailed in distress. From out of the cloud flew thousands of Rākṣasas clutching spears and battle-axes. They ranged about the sky like flying mountains. With blazing faces and sharp teeth, the monstrous demons struck terror into the Kauravas’ hearts. Descending onto the battlefield, they slaughtered Duryodhana’s forces without mercy. A confused din arose in the gloom of the night battle as thousands of brave warriors lost their lives. Unable to stand against their attackers, the Kauravas fled. As they ran they cried, “Run! All is lost! The gods with Indra at their head have come to destroy us.”
Karṇa alone, covered by arrows, remained fearless. He fought back against the Rākṣasas, warding off their attack and sending his blazing steel shafts into the sky and in all directions. Closing on his intrepid foe, Ghaṭotkaca hurled four irresistible lances that slew Karṇa’s horses. Karṇa saw him swiftly approaching, his scimitar held high. All around him he heard the Kauravas’ wails and cries: “O Karṇa, use Indra’s weapon to slay this colossus. Otherwise, he will kill us all with his mighty illusions.”
Karṇa reflected. There was no alternative. The Rākṣasa was consuming all his celestial weapons. Nothing could stop him except the infallible Śakti. Seeing that Gatotkacha would also slay him, he forgot about Arjuna and snatched the Śakti weapon from its gold case. Placing it on his bow he aimed it at the Rākṣasa while uttering the mantras. The battlefield around him became brilliantly illuminated, as if the sun had risen. Fearful winds blew and thunder resounded in the heavens. Karṇa released the weapon and it flew like a fireball at Ghaṭotkaca. The Rākṣasa saw his end approaching and suddenly expanded his body to an immense size. Towering above the battlefield, he was struck full on the chest by the Śakti. It passed clean through his body and flew up into the sky, disappearing into the heavens to return to Indra.
Slain instantly, Ghaṭotkaca fell toward the Kauravas. His huge frame crushed a complete division of warriors as he hit the ground. As he died, his frightful illusions vanished. Seeing his opponent killed, Karṇa roared with joy. Duryodhana and his brothers shouted with him and the Kauravas beat drums and blew conches. They surrounded Karṇa and praised him with cheerful voices.
(Continued ...)
(My humble salutations to the lotus feet of Brahmasree Krishna Dharma and Bramhasree Manmatha Dutt and I am most grateful to Swamyjis, Philosophic Scholars and Ascetic Org. for the collection of this great and wornderful Epic of the world. )
Post a Comment