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Chapter 1313

Om. Let us honor Narayana. Let us honor Him, the most honorable Nara. Let us honor Her, the goddess called Saraswati. Jayatu Bhava!

“Janamejaya said,

‘Once Karna was slain in battle by Savyasachin, what did the small number of surviving Kauravas do, reborn one? Seeing the Pandavan army swollen due to power and energy, how did the Kuru prince, Suyodhana, behave towards the Pandavas upon reflection on what was best to do next? I want to hear everything. Tell me, O best of the reborn, for I can never get my fill of the stories of the great things my ancestors have done.’

And Vaisampayana said,

‘Once Karna fell, O king, Dhritarashtra’s son Suyodhana sunk into a sea of grief; everyone and everything around him was unhappy. Giving into lamentations without end and saying: Alas, O Karna!, he made the quite difficult journey back to camp, accompanied by the remainder of allied kings. Recalling the slaying of the Suta, he had no peace of mind though kings with excellent scripture-based reasoning truly comforted him. Considering Fate and Necessity omnipotent, the Kuru king set his heart on warfare. Having elected Salya the army’s generalissimo, the taurine king, O king, headed into battle accompanied by the remaining men. O Bharata tribal chief, a terrible battle was then fought between the Kurus and Pandavas resemblant to the gods’ and Asuras’ war. Salya, O king, having created much carnage in battle, eventually lost many men and was slain by Yudhishthira at noon. King Duryodhana, having lost all friends and kinsmen, fled from battle and entered a dreaded lake, fearful of enemies. But, that afternoon, Bhimasena surrounded the lake with many mighty chariot-warriors. He called to Duryodhana, asking him to come out, and then quickly slew him, proving his strength. When Duryodhana died, the three remaining Kuru chariot-warriors, Aswatthaman, Kripa, and Kritavarman, enraged, O king, slew the Panchalan men at night. The next morning, Sanjaya, having left camp, entered the Kuru city – he was miserable, grievous, and sorrowful. Having entered the city, the Suta, Sanjaya, raising his arms in grief, body trembling, entered the palace. Grievous, O tigrine man, he wept aloud, saying: Alas, O king! Alas! We’re all ruined by the slaughter of the mahatma and king. Alas! Time is omnipotent and makes wicked plans – our allies, as naturally mighty as Sakra, were all slain by the Pandavas. Seeing that Sanjaya had returned, O king, and was despairing, the people, supreme king, quite worried, wept loudly: Alas, O king! The entire city, O tigrine man, including its children, upon hearing that Duryodhana is dead, lament, the sounds utterly reverberating. Men and women scatter, truly troublingly grievous and senseless, as if they’ve gone mad The Suta, Sanjaya, then, truly shaken, entered the castle and saw the supreme king, the ruler of men, whose eyes were composed of wisdom. Seeing the innocent king, the Bharata tribal chief, sitting there surrounded by his sons’ wives, his wife, Vidura, friends, and kinsmen, all ever his well-wishers, yes, seeing him mulling over Karna’s death, the Suta, Sanjaya, heart grievous with a voice choked with tears, told him: My name is Sanjaya, tigrine man, and I bow before you, taurine Bharata tribesman. Salya, the Madras’ ruler, is dead. Suvala’s son, Sakuni, and Uluka, O tigrine man, a brave son of that gambler (Sakuni), are dead, too. The Samsaptakas, Kambojas, Sakas, Mlechas, Mountaineers, and Yavanas were annihilated. So were those from the east, south, north, and west, O king. The kings and princes are dead, O king. King Duryodhana was slain by Pandu’s adopted son the way he said he would. He lies on the dusty ground now, covered with blood and dust, thighs broken, O king. Dhrishtadyumna was slain, O king, and Sikhandin was, too. Utamauja, Yudhamanyu, O king, the Prabhadrakas, those tigrine men (the Panchalas), and the Chedis were annihilated. Their sons are dead and Draupadi’s five sons are too, O Bharata tribesman. Vrishasena, the heroic, mighty son of Karna, is dead. All the assembled men were annihilated. All the elephants are dead. All the chariot-warriors, O tigrine man, and all the horses died in battle. You have very few left, Lord. Due to the Pandavas and Kauravas meeting for battle, Mother Earth was stunned by Time and no men are left. The seven Pandavas are left (the five Pandavas, Vasudeva, and Satyaki) and we have three (Kripa, Kritavarman, and Drona’s son, a supreme victor). Those three chariot-warriors, O king, are all that remain of your Akshauhinis. Those are the only survivors, O king – all the rest are dead. Duryodhana and his ill-will for the Pandavas are behind, it seems, taurine Bharata tribesman, Time’s destruction of Mother Earth.

Hearing these brutal things, Dhritarashtra, a ruler of men, O king, fell, senseless. Then, Vidura, a quite famous man, O king, troublingly sorrowful over the king’s misery, fell, too. Gandhari, supreme king, and the female Kurus suddenly, upon hearing these things, fell, too. Yes, the assembly of royalty lay senseless on the ground, raving like lunatics; it was as if they were figures on a mural. King Dhritarashtra, the world leader, troubled by misfortune (the death of his sons), slowly began to breathe again, difficult though that was. Having come to, the king, body trembling and heart sorrowful, looking this way and that, told Kshatri (Vidura): O educated Kshatri – O quite wise one – O taurine Bharata tribesman – shelter me. I have no ruler and no sons. Having said this, he fell, senseless, again. Seeing that he’d fallen, his kinsmen sprinkled him with cold water and fanned him. After some time, the world leader was soothed though troublingly sorrowful due to his sons’ deaths. He said nothing but sighed deeply, O king, as if he were a snake in a jar. Seeing the king so troubled, Sanjaya wept aloud. The women, including the quite famous Gandhari, did the same. Some time later, supreme man, Dhritarashtra, having repeatedly swooned, spoke to Vidura thusly: My head is spinning, so the women, including the quite famous Gandhari, and my friends should go off to rest. At this, Vidura, repeatedly trembling, slowly dismissed the ladies, taurine Bharata tribesman. The women went off to rest, Bharata tribal chief, as did those friends upon seeing the king so troubled. Sanjaya looked at the king, despairing, enemy-scorcher, a king who’d, upon coming to, begun weeping, quite troubled. Palms joined, Vidura sweetly soothed the ruler of men, one incessantly sighing.’”

Chapter 1314

“Vaisampaya continued,

‘Once the ladies had been dismissed, Dhritarashtra, Ambika’s son, sunk into sorrow more powerful than that which’d troubled him earlier, O king; he began giving into lamentation, breathless and waving his arms. Upon reflecting a little, O king, he spoke: Alas, O Suta, your news is quite grievous – the Pandavas are safe and sound and suffered no loss in battle. Surely my heart is made of thunder if, upon hearing of my sons’ death, it did not break. Their ages at death – the games they used to play as children – hearing of their deaths today, O Sanjaya, seems to make my heart smash to bits. I never saw them due to blindness but I loved them deeply like a father loves his children. I was exceedingly glad to hear, innocent one, they’d gone from children to youths to young men. Hearing today of their slaughter and loss of riches and power, I have no peace of mind and am overwhelmingly grievous over their overwhelming misfortune. I need you, O King of Kings, O Duryodhana, for I have no guardian now. Without you, mighty-armed one, something bad shall happen to me. Why, sire, abandon the assembled kings and lie dead on the bare ground like some common, wretched lord? O king, you were a shelter for kinsmen and friends – where are you now, O hero? You’re abandoning me, an old, blind man. Where is your compassion, O king? Your love and honor? You were invincible but were slain by the Parthas! Who will show me love and honor upon my rising at the proper time, saying: Father, Father! – Great king! – Lord of the World! – whilst lovingly hugging my neck, eyes wet with tears? Yes, who will look to me and say: What would you have me do, O Kuru?; speak to me sweetly once more, son. Dear child, you told me: This wide world belongs to us just as it belongs to Pritha’s son; Bhagadata, Kripa, Salya, the two Avanti princes, Jayadratha, Bhurisrava, Sala, Somadata, Balika, Aswatthaman, the Bhojas’ chief, the mighty Magadhan prince, Vrihadvala, the ruler of the Kasis, Sakuni (Suvala’s son), the thousands upon thousands of Mlechas, Sakas, Yavanas, Sudakshina (the Kambojas’ ruler), the Trigartas’ ruler, Grandfather Bhishma, Bharadwaja’s son, Gotama’s son (Kripa), Srutayush, Ayutayush, the quite powerful Satayush, Jalasandha, Rishyasringa’s son, the Rakshasa named Alayudha, mighty-armed Alambusha, and the great chariot-warrior named Suvala are just some of the many, supreme king, who’ve gone to war for my sake, ready to die in the great battle. Stationed on the battlefield amongst them, surrounded by my brothers, I shall fight the Parthas, Panchalas, Chedis, O tigrine king, sons of Draupadi, Satyaki, Kuntibhoja, and the Rakshasa named Ghatotkacha. Even one of them, O king, his fury ignited, could challenge the rushing Pandavas. So, what can I say about all those heroes, each one having joined an assembly, who took their revenge on the Pandavas? They, O king, will fight the allies of the Pandavas and slay them in battle. Karna (without assistance) and I shall slay the Pandavas. Then, the heroic kings will live as my slaves. Their leader, mighty Vasudeva, refuses to don mail for them, O king. Yes, O Suta, that’s the kind of thing Duryodhana would say. Hearing him, I believed the Pandavas would be slain in battle. My sons stationed themselves amidst those heroes, truly made use of themselves in battle, and were annihilated – what or who is behind this but Fate? When the world leader, brave Bhishma, met Sikhandin and it was like a lion being slain by a jackal, what or who was behind this but Fate? The Brahmin, Drona, a master of weapons (offensive and defensive), was slain by the Pandavas in battle – what or who is behind this but Fate? Bhurisrava was slain in battle as were Somadata and King Balika – what or who was behind this but Fate? Bhagadata, skilled in fighting from atop an elephant, was slain – Jayadratha was slain – what or who was behind this but Fate? Sudakshina was slain – the Puru named Jalasandha was slain – Srutayush and Ayutayush were slain – what or who was behind this but Fate? Mighty Pandya, the top weapons-wielder, was slain by the Pandavas – what or who was behind this but Fate? Vrihadvala was slain – the mighty King of the Magadhas was slain – brave Ugrayudha, a great archer, was slain – the two Avanti princes (Vinda and Anuvinda) were slain – the Trigartas’ ruler was slain – numerous Samsaptakas were slain – what or who was behind this but Fate? King Alambusha, the Rakshasa named Alayudha, and Rishyasringa’s son were slain – what or who was behind this but Fate? The Narayanas were slain – the Gopalas were slain – the men invincible in battle were slain – thousands upon thousands of Mlechas were slain – what or who was behind this but Fate? Sakuni, the son of Suvala, and mighty Uluka (the gambler’s son who led forces) were slain – what or who was behind this but Fate? Countless mahatmas and heroes, skilled in all kinds of attack-weapons and weapons for defense – as naturally powerful as Sakra – were slain, O Suta; Kshatriyas from various lands, O Sanjaya, were all slain – what or who can be behind this but Fate? Naturally quite mighty were my sons, grandsons, friends, and brethren – what or who can be behind this but Fate? Surely man, at rebirth, becomes Fate’s slave. He who is born into good fortune meets with good. I have lost my riches and that means my children, too, Sanjaya. I am old – how can I be enslaved by enemy-rule now? Methinks nothing would be good to do now except send myself into the forest, exiled. I, one fallen into such dire straits, I, one whose wings have been clipped, know of nothing better. O Sanjaya, Duryodhana, Salya, Dusasana, Vivingsati, and mighty Vikarna were all slain – how can I bear Bhimasena’s roars? He, alone, slew one-hundred sons in battle. Often, in my hearing-range, he likes to talk about Duryodhana’s death. Burning with grief and sorrow, I find his cruel words unbearable.

Thus, the king, burning with grief, having lost family and kin, swooned time and time again, overcome with sorrow due to his sons’ death. Having wept for a long time, Dhritarashtra, the son of Ambika, panted heavily and sighed deeply, thinking of how he’d been defeated. Overcome with sorrow, burning with grief, the taurine Bharata tribesman asked his charioteer, Gavalgana’s son Sanjaya, what’d happened.

So Dhritarashtra said: When Bhishma and Drona were slain – when the Suta had been overpowered – who was elected generalissimo? The Pandavas slay, losing no time, anyone my men elect as generalissimo in battle. Bhishma, on the front-line, was slain by crown-decorated Arjuna in plain sight of you all. Drona was slain in plain sight. The Suta, brave Karna, was slain by Arjuna in plain sight of all kings. Long ago, Mahatma Vidura told me that Duryodhana would be why the world-population would be wiped out. Some fools cannot see what is right in front of them! The things Vidura said to foolish me were true. Righteous-souled Vidura, one who knows the qualities of all things, was exactly right – what he said was absolutely true. But, troubled by Fate, I did not act on them. The results of that wicked plan have now come into fruition. Well, tell me, son of Gavalgana – who was chosen to lead our men after Karna fell? Which chariot-warrior headed for Arjuna and Vasudeva? Which men guarded the right-wheel of the Madras’ ruler in battle? Which men guarded the left-wheel of that hero when he went into battle? Which guarded his rear? How, when you were all together, could the mighty Madras’ ruler and my son have been slain by the Pandavas, Sanjaya? Give me the details of the great destruction of Bharatas. How did my son Duryodhana fall in battle? How did the Panchalas, their devotees, Dhrishtadyumna, Sikhandin, and the five sons of Draupadi fall? How did the five Pandavas and two Satwatans (Krishna and Satyaki) survive? I want to hear all about the battle. You’re a skilled story-teller, Sanjaya, so tell me everything.’”

Chapter 1315

“Vaisampayana continued,

‘Listen closely, O king, to the story of how there was great carnage when the Kurus and Pandavas met. Once the Suta had been slain by the noteworthy, adopted son of Pandu, once your men had been continually regrouped only to lead to their fleeing again and again, and once a great carnage had occurred, supreme man, involving men post-mortem (Karna), Partha began roaring like a lion. Then, your sons became quite fearful. Yes, once Karna died, not one man in your army chose to set his heart on regrouping the men or proving his power. Yes, they resembled ship-wrecked sailors in the bottomless sea with no raft to save themselves. When their guardian was slain by crown-decorated Arjuna, they resembled men in the great sea wanting shelter. Yes, O king, when the Suta was slain, your men, panic-stricken and mangled by arrows, resembled unguarded men wanting to be guarded or like a herd of deer troubled by a lion. Defeated by Savyasachin, they went off for rest at night, resembling broken-horned bulls or newly fang-less snakes. Their best men slain, themselves in a panic and mangled by sharp arrows, your sons, O king, when the Suta was slain, fled, fearful. Having lost weapons and mail-coats, all lost their senses and had no idea where to run. Looking this way and that, fearful, many began slaying one another. Many fell or turned pallid, thinking Vibhatsu or Vrikodara was after them. Some rode swift horses, some rode in swift chariots, and some rode swift elephants; many great chariot-warriors fled in fear, abandoning foot-soldiers. Chariots were smashed by elephants, horsemen were crushed by great chariot-warriors, and bands of foot-soldiers were smashed and slain by masses of horses that fled from battle. Once the Suta fell, your men were like men in a party lost in a forest that had plenty of thieves and carnivores. Some elephants whose riders had been slain and others with severed trunks, troublingly fearful, thought there were Parthas all over the world. Seeing his men fleeing, troublingly fearful of Bhimasena, Duryodhana, crying: Oh! and Alas! added to his charioteer: If I stand behind my men, armed with a bow, Partha cannot sin against me. So, urge the horses quickly. When I prove my courage in battle, Dhananjaya, Kunti’s son, cannot sin against me; it shall be like the sea not being able to sin against the continents. Today, slaying Arjuna, Govinda, proud Vrikodara, and the rest of mine enemies, I shall pay the debt I owe Karna. Hearing the Kuru king’s words, words that made him heroic and honorable, his driver slowly urged the horses, ones decorated with golden accoutrements. Many brave warriors who’d lost elephants, horses, and chariots as well as twenty-five thousand foot-soldiers, sire, headed slowly into battle. Bhimasena, infuriated, and the son of Prishata, Dhrishtadyumna, surrounded the men with the help of the four kinds of forces, destroying them with spears. Each truly fought Bhima and Prishata’s son; many challenged the two Pandavan heroes, calling out to them. But, surrounded by them in battle, Bhima lost his temper. He quickly dismounted his chariot and began fighting with a mace. Trusting in his arm-strength, Vrikodara, the son of Kunti in a chariot, a just warrior, refused to fight enemies on the ground. Armed with just his pure iron, heavy, gold-decorated mace given a sling, he resembling the holy destroyer on doomsday; Bhima annihilated them all as if he were annihilating Yama with a club. The foot-soldiers, quite enraged, having lost friends and kinsmen, prepared to die in battle; they rushed in battle toward Bhima like moths rushing into a flame. Yes, the men, enraged and invincible in battle, nearing Bhimasena, suddenly died; it was like creatures had eyed the holy destroyer. Armed with a sword and mace, Bhima rushed like a hawk and slew all twenty-five thousand men. Having slain the brave unit, mighty Bhimasena, one whose power was unstoppable, returned to facing Dhrishtadyumna. Meanwhile, Dhananjaya, one of great power, headed for the Kurus’ chariot-regiment. The twin sons of Madri and the mighty chariot-warrior, Satyaki, all three naturally quite strong, cheerfully rushed at Sakuni, wishing to slay him. Having slain, using sharp spears, the populous cavalry of Sakuni, the Pandavan heroes rushed at Sakuni; a brutal battle then took place. Dhananjaya, O king, forcibly entered the Kauravan chariot-regiment, drawing back his bow famous the three worlds over (Gandiva). Seeing the chariot with white horses hitched to it whose driver was Krishna nearing them, Arjuna its warrior, your men fled in fear. Having lost chariots and horses – hit by spears from all sides – twenty-five thousand foot-soldiers still neared Partha, surrounding him. The mighty Panchalan chariot-warrior, Dhrishtadyumna, Bhimasena before him, quickly wiped out the brave regiment and stood there, a victor. The Panchalan king’s son, the famous Dhrishtadyumna, was a mighty archer naturally beautiful and a crusher of great crowds of enemies. At the sight of Dhrishtadyumna, one whose chariot pigeon-white horses were hitched to, one whose flag was made from a lofty orchid, the men fled in fear. The famous sons of Madri, including Satyaki, focused on pursuing the Gandharan ruler who was agile when using weapons, quickly came into view. Chekitana and the five sons of Draupadi, sire, having slain a great many of your men, blasted conchs. Seeing the men fleeing, faces turned away from battle, the Pandavan heroes chased after and cut them down like bulls chasing defeated bulls. Then, mighty Savyasachin, the adopted son of Pandu, seeing that the surviving men of your army still stood their ground, became enraged, O king. Suddenly, he clouded the survivors with arrows. The dust kicked up due to this made us all blind; all was dark; the battlefield was covered by arrows. Your men, O king, scattered in all directions in fear. When his army had thusly been dispersed, the Kuru king, O king, rushed at friends and enemies. Duryodhana challenged all the Pandavas to a battle, O Bharata tribal chief; he was like the Asura named Vali long ago challenging divinities. So, the Pandavas, uniting and losing their tempers, chastised him again and again, hurling various weapons and rushing at the roaring Duryodhana. But, Duryodhana fearlessly hit his enemies with spears. Your son proved his power in an exceedingly wondrous manner – the united Pandavas could not sin against him. Duryodhana saw, a short distance away, his men – they were more exceedingly mangled by spears and ready to flee. Regrouping them, O king, your son, having set his heart on battle, wishing to gladden them, told them: Where can you go that the Pandavas cannot find you and kill you? So, why flee? The Pandavan army has few survivors; the two Krishnas have been exceedingly mangled. If we take a stand, united, surely we shall win. If, however, you flee, dispersing, the Pandavas will chase after you sinners and wipe you out. So, dying in battle would be righteous; dying whilst fighting is, to a Kshatriya, pleasant; death in this way is not grievous. Dying in this way leads to immortal bliss in the next world. Let all Kshatriyas assembled here hear me out; it is better to give into furious Bhimasena than forget your ancestral duties. The worst sin a Kshaitriya could commit would be to flee from battle. O Kauravas, the best way to earn Heaven is to perform battle-duties. A warrior earns, in twenty-four hours, the lands of bliss others take many long years to earn. Obeying the king, the great Kshatriya chariot-warriors rushed at the Pandavas, unable to tolerate defeat and resolved on proving their power. Then, a battle began that was exceedingly brutal between your men and the enemies’; it was like one between the gods and Asuras. Your son Duryodhana, O king, along with his men, rushed at the Pandavas Yudhishthira led.’”

Chapter 1316

“Vaisampayana continued,

‘Seeing the fallen chariot-cells and fallen chariots of mahatmas and warriors – seeing elephants and foot-soldiers, sire, slain – seeing the battlefield turn as awful as Rudra’s playground – seeing the dishonorable way hundreds and thousands of kings died – seeing how powerful Partha was once your son retreated, his heart grievous – seeing that your men, anxious and in dire straits, O Bharata tribesman, were unsure as to what to do next – hearing the loud wails of crushed Kauravan men – noting the displayed and dislodged emblems of great kings – the Kuru leader of great power (Kripa), one naturally mature and well-behaved, one compassionate and naturally eloquent, neared King Duryodhana, infuriated, and said: O Duryodhana – O Bharata tribesman – hear my words. Then, O king and innocent one, act accordingly, should doing so please you. The best path to take, O king, has to do with doing one’s duty in battle. Doing their duties in battle, Kshatriyas, O taurine Kshatriya, battle. He who keeps to his Kshatriya duties fights his son, father, brother, nephew, maternal uncle, relatives, and kin, if necessary. If he’s slain in battle, it’s quite meritous. But, it’s quite sinful for such a one to flee from battle. He who wishes to do his Kshatriya duties is exceedingly terrible. Now, let me say a few words. Since Bhishma, Drona, the mighty chariot-warrior named Karna, Jayadratha, your brothers, innocent one, and your son Lakshmana have died, what’s left to be done? The ones we entrusted our burdens of sovereignty to – the pleasing ones – all went to the lands of bliss earnable by those who know Brahman, abandoning their bodies. As for us, we, having lost great chariot-warriors naturally skilled in many ways, must grieve, guilty of killing many kings. Well, even when the heroes were alive, Vibhatsu was invincible. Krishna is his eyes; the mighty-armed hero is invincible to even the gods. The vast Kauravan army, nearing his ape-bannered flag, one as lofty as Indra’s bow, always trembles, fearful. When Bhimasena roars like a lion, Panchajanya is blasted, or Gandiva twanged, our hearts stop. As quick as lightning – blinding – Arjuna’s Gandiva is like a ring of fire. Decorated with pure gold, the alarming bow, whilst shaken, shines like lightning on all sides. White horses naturally swift as naturally radiant as the moon or Kusa grass canter, swallowing the skies; they’re hitched to his chariot. Guided by Krishna, they carry Arjuna into battle like cloud-banks driven by the wind, their parts decorated with gold. The top man knowledgeable about weapons – Arjuna – burnt your powerful army; it was like a swelling, great fire swallowing dry grass in a forest in Winter. As naturally splendid as Indra, Dhananjaya, forcing his way into our regiments, resembles a double-tusked elephant. When shaking up the army and frightening the kings, Dhananjaya is like an elephant shaking up a lake overgrown with lotuses. When terrifying men with his bow’s twang, Pandu’s adopted son resembles a lion filling lesser creatures with dread. The two top archers on Earth – the two taurine archers – the two Krishnas – the ones donning mail – are exceedingly beautiful. This is the seventeenth day of the terrible battle, O Bharata tribesman, and there is terrible carnage during the one-on-one battle. Your various regiments are being dispersed like clouds of Autumn scattered by the wind. Savyasachin, O king, made your army sway to and fro like a storm-tossed ship exposed at sea. When Jayadratha died, where was the Suta, Drona, his devotees, me, you, Hridika’s son, your brother Dusasana, or his brothers? Spotting Jayadratha, noting that he was in range of his arrows, Arjuna proved his power when it came to your kinsmen, brothers, allies, and maternal uncles – he stepped on their heads and slew King Jayadratha openly. What can we do now? Which of your men could defeat the adopted son of Pandu? The mahatma and warrior has various divine weapons; Gandiva’s twang drains us. Your men have no leader; it’s like Night has no moon or a dried-up river whose trees, ones that line its banks, elephants have destroyed. Mighty-armed Arjuna, one with white horses, will, as he pleases, drive through your leader-less army like a blazing fire moving through grass. Satyaki and Bhimasena’s power could split all mountains or dry up all seas. The things Bhima said he would do during the assembly have almost all been done, O king; anything left to do he will do. When Karna was on the front-line, the Pandavan army, one difficult to be defeated, was truly guarded by Gandiva’s wielder. You’ve done nasty things to the righteous Pandavas without reason, and now, the results of them have borne fruit. To reach your goals, you gingerly created a great army. It and you, taurine Bharata tribesman, are now in dire straits. Protect yourself, for, one’s self protects all. If one loses one’s self, sire, everything attached to that self scatters in all directions. So, if one finds oneself weakening, one should make peace by reconciliation. And, if one finds oneself strenghthening, one should wage war. Brihaspati declared this. Currently, the adopted sons of Pandu are stronger than us, so, Lord, we should make peace with the Pandavas for our own good. One loses his realm and all hope for prosperity if one has no idea what would do one some good or, though one knows it, disregards it. Bowing before King Yudhishthira would do us some good, not, O king, foolishly losing to the Pandavas. Yudhishthira is compassionate. If Vichitravirya’s son and Govinda encourage him, he would let you remain king. Anything Hrishikesa says to victorious King Yudhishthira, Arjuna, and Bhimasena will surely be obliged. Krishna will not, methinks, disregard Dhritarashtra, a Kuru, and Pandu’s adopted son will not disregard Krishna. So, ending the war with the sons of Pritha would do you some good. I have no lowly schemes in mind nor say this to protect myself. These are things that will, O king, do you some good. If you disregard them, you will recall them on your death-bed. Weeping, the senile one, Kripa, Saradwat’s son, thusly spoke. Panting, hot, he gave into sorrow and nearly lost his senses.’”

Chapter 1317

“Vaisampayana continued,

‘Having been thusly addressed by the famous grandson of Gautama, King Duryodhana, breathing deeply and sighing hotly, was silent. O king, having reflected for a short time, the mahatma and son of Dhritarashtra, an enemy-scorcher, replied to Saradwat’s son Kripa: That which one friend should say to another you have said to me. As you’ve fought, you’ve done all you can for me without care for your own life. All have seen you forcibly enter the Pandavan regiments and fight the mighty Pandavan chariot-warriors who’re naturally quite powerful. Yes, that which one friend should say to another you’ve said. But, like when one is on the verge of death, I refuse your medicine (your unpleasant words). Your goodly, excellent words, words full of reasoning, things you’ve, mighty-armed one, told me – they are unacceptable, supreme Brahmin. We stole the adopted son of Pandu’s kingdom from him, so why would he trust us? Plus, we won the dice-game the mighty king was involved in. Why would he believe me? Krishna, one always focused on doing the Parthas some good, came to us as a messenger and was tricked. That was truly the wrong thing to do. So why, O reborn one, would Hrishikesa trust me? Princess Krishna, during the assembly, wept piteously. Krishna will never forget our deed and never forget how we took Yudhishthira’s kingdom from him. In the past, we heard that the two Krishnas share the same heart and are solidly united. It was plainly so today, Lord. Having heard of the slaughter of his nephew, Kesava has sorrowful, sleepless nights. We’ve truly offended him – why would he forgive us? Arjuna, due to Abhimanyu’s death, is quite miserable. We could ask him, but why would he do me some good? The second adopted son of Pandu, mighty Bhimasena, is exceedingly brutal – he promised something terrible. He will break but not bend. The heroic twins, cherishing their hostility for us, are like two Yamas when donning mail and wielding swords. Dhrishtadyumna and Sikhandin have drawn their swords against me. Why would those two, top Brahmin, do me some good? Wearing a single piece of cloth, menstruating, Princess Krishna was treated cruelly by Dusasana openly during the assembly. The enemy-scorchers, the Pandavas, ones who still recall how the disrobed Draupadi was put in dire straits, would never refuse to fight. Krishna, the daughter of Drupada, is grievous, penitent in an utterly austere manner to destroy me and have her husbands reach their goals. Every night, she sleeps on the bare ground to ensure the end of the war. Putting aside honor and pride, the biological sister of Vasudeva, Subhadra, always serves Draupadi as a true serving-woman. So, all is alight and cannot be put out. Abhimanyu is dead – peace is impossible. I once enjoyed the right to rule the world, surrounded by the sea, so how could I enjoy a kingdom in peace with the Pandavas’ permission? I was the sun for all kings, so how could I be Yudhishthira’s shadow (a slave)? I took pleasure in all things pleasant and was shown great compassion, so how could I then lead a miserable life with miserable friends? While I do not hate the soothing, goodly things you said, I disagree that peace is the solution. Fighting righteously is, enemy-scorcher, a righteous path. Why act like a eunuch? No, this is the time to fight. I’ve performed many sacrifices, given dakshinas to Brahmins, had all my wishes come true, heard The Vedas being recited, stepped on enemy-heads, taken good care of my servants, and saved the distressed, so, O best of the reborn, I refuse to humble myself before the Pandavas. Yes, I’ve conquered faraway places, properly ruled the realm, taken pleasure in various pleasurable things, been devout and had fun, paid my debts to the Pitris, and done my duties as a Kshatriya. Am I happy now? No. What becomes of a realm and a good name? One lives on earth to become famous – famous by way of fighting and no other way. Dying comfortably at home as a Kshatriya is blameworthy; dying in bed is quite wrong. He who dies in a forest or in battle after performing sacrifices earns powerful glory; it’s not manly to die miserable and weeping, in pain, with a disease or rotting away, or amidst weeping kinsmen. Putting aside various pleasurable things, I shall fight righteously and go to Sakra in the end, earning the friendship of those who’ve earned a supreme end. Surely heroes who act righteously, never flee from battle, are naturally wise, are devoted to Truth, perform sacrifices, or are purified by sacrificing weapons find a home in Heaven. The various Apsaras surely gaze contentedly upon such warriors in battle. Surely the Pitris see them praised amidst the gods, rejoicing in Heaven with Apsaras. Let us now take the path taken by divinities and heroes who do not return from battle, a path taken by our honorable grandfather, the teacher who was naturally quite wise, Jayadratha, Karna, and Dusasana. Many brave kings who’ve labored well for me in battle have been slain. Mangled by arrows, limbs bathed in blood, they now lie on the bare ground. Naturally quite brave, knowledgeable of excellent weapons, the kings who’d performed sacrifices spoken of in scripture died doing their duties and are now in Indra’s home. They paved the way to the lands of bliss for others; that path shall turn treacherous due to the masses of heroes plowing down it to reach their holy goal. I am thankful the heroes performed feats for my sake and died and I want to pay the debts I owe them, not set my heart on the kingdom. If I live at the cost of my friends’, brothers’, and grandfathers’ deaths, surely the world would blame me. How could I then enjoy the kingdom – I’d have lost kinsmen, friends, and well-wishers and I’d be prostrate before the adopted son of Pandu. I, thus, once ruled the cosmos and I, thus, will earn Heaven by fighting righteously; I shall be as such and no other way.

At Duryodhana’s speech the Kshatriyas present clapped and cheered; they told the king: Excellent! Excellent!. Not sorrowful over their loss, set firmly on proving their power, all, determined to fight, were enthusiastic. Having groomed their animals, the Kauravas, taking delight in the idea of battle, went into camp to rest about sixteen miles away from battle. They came to the Sarasvati, one of red water that flowed on the holy, beautiful plateau of the Himavatan foothills and bathed or drank its water. Their spirits heightened by your son, they waited at camp. Encouraging themselves and one another to unite, the Kshatriyas, O king, driven by Fate, waited at camp.’”

Chapter 1318

“Vaisampayana continued,

‘On the plateau that lay on the foothills of Mount Himavat, the men, O king, taking delight in the idea of battle, reassembled, slept. Yes, Salya, Chitrasena, the mighty chariot-warrior named Sakuni, Ashvatthaman, Kripa, Kritavarman (a Satwatan), Susena, Arishtasena, the quite powerful Dhritasena, Jayatsena, and all the kings slept there. Now that heroic Karna was dead, your sons, fearful of the victory-desiring Pandavas, were only able to rest there, the Himavat-range. All set on warfare, O king, they honored the king and told him in the presence of Salya: It’d suit you to fight the enemy upon choosing a man to be generalissimo; he shall protect us in battle and we shall defeat the enemy. Duryodhana, not dismounting his chariot, headed for the top chariot-warrior, a hero who knew warfare to a t (Aswatthaman); he was like the holy destroyer in battle. A handsome physique, head well-protected, neck decorated with three conch-shell-like lines, eloquent, eyes like a lotus in full-bloom, face like noble Mount Meru, like Mahadeva’s bull in neck, eyes, gait, and sound, possessive of arms naturally large, massive, well-connected, as swift and mighty as Garuda or the wind, as naturally splendid as sunbeams, a challenge to Usanas in wisdom and the moon in beauty of body and facial charms, possessive of a body seemingly made of many golden lotuses with well-connected joints, well-formed thighs, a well-formed waist and pair of hips, and beautiful fingers with beautiful nails, he seemed created by the holy creator with care upon attaining each sign of beauty and excellence. Possessive of all signs of auspiciousness, clever in every way, he was a sea of learning. He always defeated enemies quickly and could not be defeated by them. He knew, by heart, Weaponry, including the four paths and ten paths. He knew The Vedas, their branches, and The Akhyanas. Naturally quite meritous when it came to asceticism, Drona, one who had no biological mother, having worshipped the holy three-eyed god quite carefully and with austere vows, sired a son who also had no biological mother.

Nearing the famous one whose feats were unparalleled, the one handsome like no other on Earth, the one who’d mastered all branches of education, the sea of accomplishments, flawless Aswatthaman, your son, said: You, son of a teacher, are now our loftiest shelter. So, choose a generalissimo for my men – set him before us so we can, united, defeat the Pandavas.

At this, Drona’s son replied: Salya shall lead us. He comes from the best line and is supreme in power, energy, fame, beauty, and all else. Recalling how he was assisted, he is our ally now, abandoning his nephews. Possessive of a great army, the mighty-armed one is like another Kartikeya, the god’s generalissimo. If that king leads our men, supreme king, we shall be victorious; it shall be like when the gods made invincible Skanda their army-captain. Once Drona’s son had said this, the kings gathered around Salya and wished him victory. Having set their minds on fighting, they felt great joy. Duryodhana dismounted his chariot, put his palms together, and told Salya, Drona’s and Bhishma’s challenger in battle, Salya being in his chariot: O one devoted to his friends, the time has come for friends to be tested by the wise to see if they are really allies or enemies. O courageous one, stand on the front-line as our generalissimo. If you headed into battle, the Pandavas and their allies would become miserable as would the Panchalas.

And Salya replied: I shall, O Kuru king, do as you wish. I devote my life, realm, and riches to you.

So Duryodhana said: I beg you to lead my men, Uncle. O supreme warrior, be our unparalleled guardian like Skanda protecting the gods in battle. O supreme king, make yourself leader like Pavaka’s son Kartikeya did before ruling the divine armies. O hero, slay our enemies like Indra slaying the Danavas.’”

Chapter 1319

“Vaisampayana said,

‘Hearing the Kuru king’s words, brave King Salya, O king, told Duryodhana: O mighty-armed Duryodhana, listen to me, O supremely eloquent one. You consider the two Krishnas, when in their chariot, the best of all chariot-warriors. But, even when united, they are not as good as me when it comes to powerful weapons. What can be said about the Pandavas, then? When I’ve lost my temper, I can fight, on the front-line, the warring world, including its gods, Asuras, and men. I shall defeat the united Parthas and Somakas in battle. Surely I shall lead your men; I shall create a formation the enemy cannot overpower. I speak the truth, Duryodhana. At Salya’s words, King Duryodhana cheerfully poured holy water, losing no time, top Bharata tribesman, upon the Madras’ ruler who was amidst his men, following scriptural rituals. O king, once Salya had been invested, great leonine cries came from your men; various musical instruments, O Bharata tribesman, were blasted or blown. The Kauravan men became quite joyous as did the mighty Madrakan chariot-warriors. All praised royal Salya, a battle-decoration, saying: May you be victorious, O king, and live long. Slay the united enemies! With your mighty arms, the naturally mighty Dhritarashtras can rule the wide world without a single enemy in it. If you can defeat the three worlds and their gods and Asuras, what can be said of the mortal Somakas and Srinjayas? At this, the mighty Madrakan ruler felt the kind of bliss those with tainted souls never feel.

Salya said: Today, O king, I shall either slay the Panchalas and Pandavas in battle or, slain by them, soar to Heaven. May the world, today, witness me driving across the battlefield without fear. Today, the adopted sons of Pandu, Vasudeva, Satyaki, Draupadi’s sons, Dhrishtadyumna, Sikhandin, and the Prabhadrakas will bear witness to my power, the great might of my bow, my speed, the power of my weapons, and the might of my arms in battle. May the Parthas, Siddhas, and Charanas witness my mighty arms and countless supply of weapons. Seeing how powerful I am, the mighty Pandavan chariot-warriors, wishing to challenge me, will form various plans. Today, I shall scatter the Pandavan men in all directions. Overpowering Drona, Bhishma, and the Suta, Lord, in battle, I shall drive across the battlefield, O Kauravas, to please you.

Once Salya had been invested, O honorer, not one man, O taurine Bharata tribesman, grieved for Karna. Yes, the men were cheerful and glad now. They considered the Parthas slain and enslaved by the Madras’ ruler. Having earned powerful joy, your men, taurine Bharata tribesman, slept that night, joyful and very cheerful. Hearing your men’s cries, King Yudhishthira told the Vrishni openly before the Kshatriyas: The Madras’ ruler – Salya – a great archer truly respected by all men – has, O Madhava, been elected army-captain by Dhritarashtra's son. Knowing this, do that which would do us some good, O Madhava. You’re our ruler and guardian, so, do that which should now be done. So Vasudeva, O king, told the king: I know Artayani to a t, O Bharata tribesman. Naturally powerful and energetic, he’s quite noteworthy. He’s skilled, knows all types of warfare, and is naturally agile. Methinks the Madras’ ruler is, in battle, as good as Bhishma, Drona, or Karna or better. I know of no man, O king, upon reflection who could be a good match for Salya in battle. In battle, he is better when it comes to power than Sikhandin, Arjuna, Bhima, Satyaki, and Dhrishtadyumna, O Bharata tribesman. The King of the Madras, O king, as naturally powerful as a lion or elephant, will drive fearlessly across the battlefield like the holy destroyer when furious towards creatures on doomsday. I know of none who could match him in battle but you, O tigrine man, you one as naturally powerful as a tiger. You’re the only being Heaven or the world over who, O Kuru, could slay the Madras’ ruler when he’s lost his temper in battle. Daily, he focuses on warfare, shaking up your men. So, slay Salya in battle like Maghavat slaying Samvara. Honored by Dhritarashtra’s son, the hero is invincible in battle. If the Madras’ ruler falls, you’ll surely be victorious. And, upon his death, the vast Dhritarashtran army will be annihilated. Hear me, O king, and head, O Partha, for the mighty chariot-warrior (the Madras’ ruler). Slay him, mighty-armed one, like Vasava slaying the Asura named Namuchi. Feel nothing for him, even though he’s your maternal uncle. Recall your Kshatriya duties and slay the Madras’ ruler. Having crossed the bottomless seas (Bhishma, Drona, and Karna),

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