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,
'When he heard that his father, Devavrata, one whose power, steadfastness, might, energy, and power was like no other, had been killed by Sikhandin, the Prince of the Panchalas, what really, O reborn rishi, did powerful King Dhritarashtra, his eyes bathed in tears, do? O noteworthy one, his son, Duryodhana, wanted to rule after defeating those mighty archers, the adopted sons of Pandu, by way of Bhishma, Drona, and other great chariot-warriors. Tell me, O one whose wealth comes from asceticism, everything the Kuru did once the archer-chief was dead.’"
"Vaisampayana said:
‘Hearing that his father had been slain, the Kuru, King Dhritarashtra, anxious and grievous, found no peace of mind. Whilst the Kuru brooded, sorrowful, the pure-souled son of Gavalgana went to him again. Dhritarashtra, Amvika’s son, spoke to Sanjaya, one who had gone that night from camp to the city named for the elephant. His heart exceedingly made miserable due to the news of Bhishma’s fall, wishing for his sons to win, he let himself grieve, quite troubled.
"Dhritarashtra said: Once he’d wept for the mahatma, the terribly powerful Bhishma, what, O son, did the Kauravas, driven by destiny, do next? Yes, once the mahatma, the invincible hero, was slain, what did the Kauravas do, sunken as they were in a sea of grief? Yes, the growing and quite competent army of mahatmas, the Pandavas, could, O Sanjaya, create fear beyond fear itself the three worlds over. So tell me, Sanjaya, what the assembled kings did after Devavrata, the taurine Kuru, fell.
"And Sanjaya said: Listen, O king, with undivided attention as I tell you what your sons did once Devavrata had been killed in battle. When Bhishma, O king, one whose power could not be baffled, was slain, your men, as well as the Pandavas, mulled over the situation. Reflecting on Kshatriya duties, they felt awe and joy, however, those duties made them honor the mahatma and warrior. Then, those tigrine men made the immeasurably powerful Bhishma a bed whose pillow was straight poles. Having arranged for Bhishma’s protection, they spoke to one another pleasantly. Bidding farewell to Ganga’s son and circling him, eyeing one another with reddened eyes due to anger, the Kshatriyas, driven by destiny, again went onto the battlefield to fight. Trumpets blasted and drums were beaten to signify the preparations of your side and theirs. When Ganga fell, O king, and the best part of the day had gone, the top Bharata tribesmen, giving into Fury, their hearts troubled by Fate, ignoring the goodly words of Mahatma Bhishma, sallied forth quite quickly, armed. Due to your foolishness, your son’s foolishness, and Santanu’s son’s death, the Kauravas and all the kings seemed invited to fight by Death. The Kurus, now without Devavrata, were anxious; they were like a herd of goats or sheep without a herder in a forest that had plenty of carnivores. Yes, after the fall of the top Bharata tribesman, the Kuru army looked like the sky whose stars were now gone, the sky if the the atmosphere was gone, like the ground if it had become barren, like a speech ruined by bad grammar, like the ancient Asura army once Vali had been cut down, like a virgin-bride now without a husband, like a river whose waters were now gone, like a red deer doe now without her buck in a forest with plenty of wolves, or like a spacious mountain-cave whose lion is killed by a Sarabha. Yes, O Bharata chieftain, the Bharatas, when Ganga’s son died, were like a frail boat on the ocean’s surface tossed around from all angles by a storm. Exceedingly troubled by the mighty, heroic Pandavas whose men had an aim that was always true, the Kauravan army, its horses, chariot-warriors, and elephants quite troubled, became exceedingly troubled, helpless, and panic-stricken. The fearful kings and common soldiers, no longer trusting one another, now without Devavrata, seemed to sink into the underworld. But then, the Kauravas recalled Karna, one truly equal to Devavrata – every heart turned to that top weapons-wielder, the one like a shining guest due to education and abstentious austerities. All hearts turned to him like a troubled man’s heart turning to a friend who can end those troubles. O Bharata tribesman, the kings cried out: ‘Karna! Karna! That son of Radha – that friend of ours – that Suta – the one always ready to die in battle! Naturally quite famous, Karna, his devotees, and his friends have not fought for ten days. Summon him as soon as possible! Before the Kshatriyas, the mighty-armed hero, when brave, mighty chariot-warriors were spoken of, was classified by Bhishma as an ardharatha (one who can never be defeated), though that taurine man was equal to two chariot-warriors able to take on ten-thousand ardharathas each. That’s how he was classified when atirathas were named; he’s the top atiratha; he’s respected by all heroes; he’d even try to fight Yama, Kuvera, Varuna, and Indra. When he was angry about said circumstances, O king, he told Ganga’s son: As long as you live, O Kuru, I refuse to fight. But, if you successfully slay the adopted sons of Pandu during the great battle, I shall, O Kaurava, with Duryodhana’s permission, enter the forest for rest. But if, on the other hand, you, O Bhishma, slain by the Pandavas, win Heaven, I shall then, using one chariot, slay them all, all the ones you call great chariot-warriors.’
"Having said this, mighty-armed, quite famous Karna, with your son’s permission, did not fight the first ten days. Bhishma, quite powerful and immeasurably mighty, slew, O Bharatan, a very large number of warriors belonging to Yudhishthira. When, however, that hero whose aim was true and had great energy died, your sons thought of Karna like people wishing to ford a river think of a boat. Your warriors and your sons, together with all the kings, cried out: ‘Karna! This is the time for him to show off his power. Our hearts are turned to Karna, one who took his knowledge of weapons from Jamadagni’s son, one whose power is unstoppable. Truly, O king, he could save us from great danger like Govinda, one who always saves the divinities from great danger.’ Dhritarashtra, one sighing like a snake, spoke to Sanjaya, one repeatedly praising Karna: ‘I understand that your hearts are turned to Vikartana’s son Karna and that all of you saw the son of Radha, the Suta hero always ready to die in battle. I hope the hero whose power is unable to be baffled did not make the expectations of Duryodhana and his brothers untrue – they were all, then, troublingly grievous and fearful; they wanted to be rescued from danger. If Bhishma, the Kauravan shelter, was slain, could Karna, the top archer, successfully fill that void? Could Karna, filling the void, fill the enemy with fear? Could he crown the hopes of victory my sons cherished with results?’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Sanjaya said: Then, Adhiratha’s son, the Suta, knowing that Bhishma had died, wished to rescue, like a brother, your son’s army from their troubles – they were like a boat sunken in a bottomless sea. Yes, O king, having heard that the mighty chariot-warrior and top man, a hero with immortal glory who was the son of Santanu and one thrown off his chariot, Karna, an enemy-crusher, the top archer, soon arrived on the battlefield. When the top chariot-warrior, Bhishma, was slain by the enemy, Karna hurried there, wishing to save the Kuru army, one like a sunken boat in the sea, for he was like a father wishing to save his children.
"Karna told the men: ‘Bhishma, a solid, wise, powerful, mighty, honest, self-controlled, and virtuous-in-every-way hero, who had all divine weapons, humility, modesty, pleasant words, an absence of malice, and a constant sense of gratitude, one who slew Brahmin enemies, one in whom said qualities dwelt immortally like Lakshmi dwelling eternally in the moon – alas! Since Bhishma, the slayer of unfriendly heroes, is dead, I consider all other heroes slain. Due to the immortal link of all things to labor, there’s nothing everlasting on earth. If lofty-vow-keeping Bhishma is dead, who can say for certain that the sun will rise tomorrow? If the naturally-powerful-as-the-Vasus one – the world-leader – has returned to the Vasus, I ask that you grieve for your possessions, children, the world, the Kurus, and the army because you can consider them gone.’
"When the wish-granting hero who was quite mighty – the Lord of the World – the quite energetic son of Santanu – fell and when the Bharatas were defeated, Karna, his heart miserable and his eyes filled with tears, began soothing the Dhritarashtras. Hearing Radha’s son’s words, your sons, O king, and your men began wailing aloud and weeping copious tears of grief as loudly as those wails. But, when the terrible battle began again and the Kauravan sections, urged on by kings, shouted loudly, that taurine mighty chariot-warrior, Karna, spoke to the great chariot-warriors of the Kauravan army, saying things that gave them great delight: ‘In this fleeting world, everything constantly moves towards Death’s jaws. When I think of this, I consider everything brief. If all of you were here, how could Bhishma, that taurine Kuru as immovable as a hill, have been thrown off his chariot? The mighty chariot-warrior, the son of Santanu, has been overpowered and now lies on the ground like the sun if it fell from the sky; the Kuru kings can barely tolerate Dhananjya; they’re like trees barely able to bear the mountain-wind. However, I shall protect, like that mahatma did, the helpless, miserable-looking Kuru army whose top men have already been killed by the enemy. Let me shoulder that burden. I see now that this universe is fleeting – the top hero has been slain in battle. Why, then, should I fear fighting? So, flying over the battlefield, I shall send the taurine Kurus – the Pandavas – to Yama’s home using my straight spears. Considering fame the loftiest goal on earth, I shall slay them in battle or, slain by the enemy, find immortal rest on the battlefield. Yudhishthira is solid, wise, virtuous, and mighty naturally, Vrikodara is equal to a hundred elephants when it comes to power, and Arjuna is young and is the son of the Chief of Divinities. So, the Pandavan army cannot be easily defeated by even the divinities. The army that has the Yama-like twins in it – the army that has Satyaki and the son of Devaki – is like Death’s jaws. No coward, if he neared it, would return alive. Since the wise fight the act of making asceticism-based power grow by way of abstentious austerities, power should be challenged with power. My mind is truly and firmly set on opposing the enemy and guarding my men – O charioteer, today, I shall surely challenge the might of the enemy and defeat him by going only to the battlefield. I will not tolerate this feud, one having to do with inner workings. When the troops are broken up, the savior when it’s time to regroup is a friend. I shall either be an honest man and do this righteous thing or be free of my life and follow Bhishma. I shall wipe out my united enemies or, slain by them, go to the worlds meant for heroes. O charioteer, I know that this is what I should do in times of trouble, such as when women and children cry for help or when Duryodhana’s power survives a barricade. So, today, I shall conquer the enemy. Not caring at all for my life during the terrible battle, I shall protect the Kurus and slay the adopted sons of Pandu. Slaying my united enemies in battle, I shall give Dhritarashtra’s son the unquestionable right to rule. I shall don my beautiful, golden, bright, and shiny-due-to jewels-and-gems armor, don my helmet that shines like the sun, and arm myself with bows and arrows that resemble fire, poison, or snakes. Anchor sixteen quivers to my chariot at the right spots and collect a number of goodly bows. Prepare spears, arrows, heavy maces, and a conch that has gold here and there. Bring me my spotted, beautiful, excellent, golden flag that naturally has the shine of a lotus and has the tool of an elephant’s belt upon it; clean it with a delicate cloth and decorate it with excellent leis and an arrangement of wires. O son of a charioteer, bring me, and quickly, swift horses the color of yellowish-brown clouds that are not skinny, that have been washed in water sanctified by mantras, and that have been given accoutrements of bright gold. Bring me, and quickly, an excellent chariot decorated with golden leis and decorative gems that shines like the sun or moon, has all necessities, has all weapons, and has excellent beasts hitched to it. Bring me a number of quite tough, excellent bows, a number of excellent bow-strings that can cut down the enemy, some large quivers full of spears, and mail-coats for my body. Bring me, and quickly, O hero, all favoring things necessary to depart for battle, such as brass and golden containers full of curds. Let garlands of flowers be brought to me and let them be placed over the right parts of my body. Let drums be beaten for victory. Go, charioteer, and quickly, to the spot where crown-decorated Arjuna, Vrikodara, Dharma’s son Yudhishthira, and the twins are. Meeting them in battle, I will either kill them, or, slain by them, mine enemies, follow Bhishma. Arjuna, Vasudeva, Satyaki, and the Srinjayas make up a regiment that I think cannot be conquered by kings. Even if annihilating Death with his relentless vigilance protected Kiritin, I’d still kill him, meeting him in battle, or go to Yama’s home, following Bhishma. Believe me when I say that I will force my way into that group of heroes. Those kings, mine allies, do not create internal dissention, do not have weak ties to me, and do not have wicked souls.’
"Riding in an excellent, expensive, and quite strong chariot that had an excellent pole, gold-decorations, favor, a flag, and excellent horses that could move at wind-speed attached to it, Karna headed into battle to win. Worshipped by the top Kuru chariot-warrior like Indra being worshipped by the celestials, the mahatma, the brutal archer born with immeasurable energy like the sun, rode in a chariot decorated with gold; it had jewels and gems, an excellent flag, excellent horses, and a rattle like rolling thunder. The rider of that chariot sallied forth along with a large army to the battlefield, where the taurine Bharata tribesman, Bhishma, had paid his debt to Mother Nature. His body beautiful, naturally splendid like fire, a great archer and mighty chariot-warrior, Adhiratha’s son then mounted his own beautiful chariot that naturally shone like fire and shone like when the Lord of Divinities rides his divine chariot.’”
“Vaisampayana said:
‘Seeing The Grandfather, the honorable Bhishma, the one who wiped out the Kshatriyas, the righteous-souled hero of immeasurable energy, the great archer who had been tossed off his chariot by Savyasachin by way of his divine weapons, the one lying on a bed of arrows, the one resembling a vast ocean dried up by mighty winds, your sons’ hope for victory vanished along with their mail-coats and peace of mind. They saw him, one always an island to those sinking in a bottomless sea who tried to cross it, a hero coated with arrows who had forded a stream that continually flowed like the Yamuna, a hero who was like Mainaka, one with intolerable energy who had been thrown to the ground by the great Indra, a warrior lying flat on the ground as if the sun had fallen from the sky, one who looked like inconceivable Indra after he’d defeated Vritra long ago, one who made all warriors senseless, one who was the top warrior, a sign to all archers, a hero and taurine man, one who was your lofty-vow-keeping father named Bhishma, and one who was the Bharatas’ grandfather who had been thrown down in battle and now lay there, covered by Arjuna’s spears on a hero’s bed. Adhiratha’s son Karna dismounted his chariot quite troubled, grievous, and nearly senseless. Troublingly sorrowful, eyes troubled by tears, he went forward on foot. Greeting him with joined palms, he said to him with respect: ‘I am Karna! Blessings to you! Tell me, O Bharata tribesman, holy and favoring things. Open your eyes and look at me. How can any man truly enjoy, on earth, the rewards of his pious deeds? You, respected for your age and devoted to virtue, lie on the ground, murdered. O top Kuru, I know of no other as good as you when it comes to adding to the treasury, giving advice, forming battle-formations, and using weapons. Alas! The one with a natural sense of comprehension – the one who always protected the Kurus from danger – the one who slew countless numbers of warriors – is going to the Pitris’ world. From this day forward, O Bharata chieftain, the Pandavas, their fury ignited, will slay the Kurus like tigers slaying deer. Today the Kauravas, ones who know how powerful Gandiva’s twang is, will consider Savyasachin terrifying, like the Asuras considering the thunderbolt-wielder terrifying. Today the sound, like Heaven’s thunder, of arrows shot from Gandiva, will terrify the Kurus and other kings. Today, O hero, like a great, raging fire of brutal flames swallowing a forest, Kiritin’s spears will swallow the Dhritarashtras. In the sections of the forest where fire and wind work together, they burn all plants, vines, and trees. Surely Partha is like a surging fire and surely, O tigrine man, Krishna is like the wind. Hearing the blast of Panchajanya and the twang of Gandiva, all the Kauravan troops, O Bharata tribesman, will be filled with fear. O hero, without you, the kings won’t be able to tolerate the rattle of the ape-bannered chariot belonging to the enemy-crusher when he leaps upon them. Who, save you, can fight Arjuna, one whose feats, as described by the wise, are all divine? The battle he fought with the mahatma, three-eyed Mahadeva, was unearthly. Mahadeva favored him in a way those with unholy souls do not have access to. Taking delight in fighting, that adopted son of Pandu is protected by Madhava. Who can defeat the one who has not been defeated before but you; you defeated Rama in battle, a brutal destroyer of Kshatriyas the gods and Danavas worshipped. Unable to tolerate that adopted son of Pandu, I, with your permission, will slay, using my weapon-power, the brave, brutal warrior who’s like a powerfully poisonous snake who slays his enemies with just a glare!’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Sanjaya said: To the one speaking to him thusly the old Kuru grandfather, his heart cheerful, said, appropriate for time and place: ‘The ocean shelters rivers, the sun shelters bright bodies, the righteous shelter truth, fertile soil shelters seeds, and clouds shelter all creatures – I ask that you shelter your relatives and friends. Let your kinsmen depend on you like the divinities depend on the thousand-eyed one. Humiliate your enemies and make friends more joyful. Be for the Kauravas what Vishnu is for the dwellers of Heaven. Wishing to please Dhritarashtra’s son, you, by way of your arms’ might and power, O Karna, defeated the Kamvojas, having gone to Rajpura. Many kings, Nagnajit supreme, whilst staying in Girivraja, as well as the Amvashthas, Videhas, and the Gandharvas, were all defeated by you. The Kiratas, brutal in battle, living in the fortress of Himavat, were, in the past, O Karna, possessed by Duryodhana because of you. The Utpalas, Mekalas, Paundras, Kalingas, Andhras, Nishadas, Trigartas, and the Valhikas were all defeated by you in battle, O Karna. In many other countries, O Karna, driven by the desire to benefit Duryodhana, you, O hero, defeated many families and kings of great energy. Like the shelter named Duryodhana, O child, with his kinsmen, relatives, and friends, I ask that you shelter the Kauravas. Using favoring words do I order you – go and fight the enemy. Lead the Kurus in battle, and lead to Duryodhana’s victory. You are, like Duryodhana is our father’s grandson, our grandson. Lawfully we belong to you as Duryodhana does. The wise, top man, say the friendship between two righteous men is better than the kinship between brothers. So, without making your alliance with the Kurus untrue, protect the Kauravan army as if you were Duryodhana, considering it your own.’
"Hearing his words, Vikartana’s son Karna, respectfully greeting Bhishma’s feet, bid him farewell and came to the place where the Kauravan archers were. Viewing the vast, unparalleled camp of the vast army, he began cherishing, by words of encouragement, the well-armed, broad-chested warriors. The Kauravas, led by Duryodhana, were joyful. Seeing mighty-armed Mahatma Karna enter the battlefield and station himself before the entire army for battle, the Kauravas welcomed him with loud shouts, slapped arm-pits, leonine roars, twangs of bows, and various, other sounds.’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Seeing that tigrine man, Karna, mounted on his chariot, Duryodhana, O king, joyful, said: ‘This army, one you protect, has now, methinks, gotten a proper leader. Let’s now settle that which is proper and within our power.’ And Karna said: ‘Tell us yourself, O tigrine man, for you’re the wisest king. Only he whose concern it is when it comes to that which should be done sees clearly – others see more poorly. Those kings all want to hear what you have to say. I am sure you will say no inappropriate things.’
And Duryodhana said: ‘Bhishma was our commander; he possessed years, power, an education, and the support of all our warriors. The mahatma, O Karna, earned great glory and slew great numbers of mine enemies we protected in a fair fight over ten days. He did the most difficult things. But, now that he is about to soar to Heaven, whom, O Karna, do you think is fit to lead next? Without a leader, an army cannot remain in battle for even a short time. You’re the best in battle and we’re like a boat without a captain in the water. Yes, like a boat without a captain or a chariot without a charioteer going everywhere is the plight of an army without a captain. Like a merchant getting into all kinds of trouble when he doesn’t know the ways of a country he visits, an army without a leader is exposed to all kinds of trouble. So, look to the mahatmas and warriors of our army and find a suitable leader to succeed the son of Santanu. The one you consider a suitable army-captain – he, surely, will make a good leader for us.’
"Karna said: ‘All those top men are mahatmas. Each one of them deserves to be our leader. No need for minute examination. Each one comes from a noble line and knows how to cut down; each one is naturally powerful and wise; each one is aware and familiar with verses; each one is naturally wise and never flees the battlefield. But, there can only be one leader. Only one should be chosen to lead; extraordinary merit should be seen in him. All of them see one another as equals. If one of them is honored, others would be unhappy, and, clearly, would stop fighting for you from a desire to do you some good. But, there is the holy weapons-teacher who taught these warriors and is respected for his age; he is worthy of respect. So Drona, the top weapons-wielder, should lead. Who is worthy to lead if the invincible Drona, the top man who knows Brahman, is present, he being one who is equal to Venus or Vrihaspati? Of all the kings in your army, O Bharata tribesman, all would follow Drona if he went into battle. Drona is the top army-captain, the best weapons-wielder, and the top intelligent man. Besides, O king, he taught you how to use weapons. So, O Duryodhana, make him your army-captain without delay – the divinities made Kartikeya their army-captain without delay when they fought the Asuras.’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Hearing Karna’s words, King Duryodhana then said something to Drona, one staying amidst the troops: ‘Because of your noble birth, your noble line, your education, your age, your wisdom, your power, your skill, invincibility, knowledge of worldly affairs, control of the self, abstentious austerities, thankfulness, and possession of all virtues, of all these kings, none would make a better leader than you. So, protect us like Vasava protecting the divinities. If you led us, we would want, top Brahmin, to defeat our enemies. As Kapali is to the Rudras, Pavaka is the to Vasus, Kuvera is to the Yakshas, Vasava is to the Maruts, Vasishtha is to the Brahmins, the sun is to bodies of light, Yama is to the Pitris, Varuna is to sea-creatures, the moon is to stars, and Usanas is to the sons of Diti, you are the best army-captain. So, lead us. O innocent one, let these eleven Akshauhinis of troops obey your commands. Arrange these men for battle and slay our enemies like Indra slaying the Danavas. Go before us like Pavaka’s son Kartikeya leading the divinity-armies. We will follow you into battle like bulls following a lead cow. You’re a brutal, great archer; you draw back the bow before us. Arjuna will not strike. Surely, O tigrine man, if you lead us, I would defeat Yudhishthira, his followers, and his relatives in battle.’
"Once Duryodhana had said this, the Kauravan kings, to Drona, cried: Victory! and took delight in your son, giving a loud, leonine cry. The joyful troops, Duryodhana leading them, wishing to earn great fame, began glorifying the top Brahmin. Then, O king, Drona said something to Duryodhana.’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Drona said: ‘I know The Vedas and their six branches. I know the science of human affairs. I know the Saiva and various, other kinds of weapons. Attempting to prove the virtues you, wishing to win, claim I have, I will fight the Pandavas. But, O king, I won’t be able to slay Prishata’s son. O taurine man, he was born so that I would die. I will fight the Pandavas and slay the Somakas. As for the Pandavas, they will not fight me with cheerful hearts.’
Since Drona allowed him, Drona’s son, O king, made him captain of the army by way of the rituals ordered by law. The Katiravan kings, led by Duryodhana, made Drona the army-captain like divinities, led by Indra, making Skanda leader long ago. Once Drona was made commander, the army, joyful, beat drums and blasted conchs loudly. Then, as cries were heard like the cries heard during a festival, Brahmins made favoring invocations and they were pleased by cries of: Jaya! made by top Brahmins. Mimes danced; Drona was honored. Kauravan warriors considered the Pandavas already defeated.
"Then, the mighty chariot-warrior, Bharadwaja’s son, having earned the right to command, arranged the troops for battle, departing with your sons to fight the enemy. The Sindhus’ ruler, the Kalingas’ chief, and your son, Vikarna, dressed in mail-coats, took up their position on the right side of Drona. Sakuni, along with many top horsemen who fought with bright lances and were from the Gandharan tribe, sallied forth to guard them. Kripa, Kritavarman, Chitrasena, and Vivinsati, led by Dusasana, truly did their best to guard his left side. The Kamvojas (led by Sudakshina), the Sakas, and the Yavanas, with quite swift horses, sallied forth to guard those on his left side. The Madras, Trigartas, Amvashthas, Westerners, Northerners, Malavas, Surasenas, Sudras, Maladas, Sauviras, Kaitavas, Easterners, and the Southerners, setting your son Duryodhana and the Suta’s son Karna before them, formed the rear-guard, gladdened warriors of their own army and added to the strength of the advancing force. Vikartana’s son Karna led the top archers; his blazing, large, and tall flag with the tool of an elephant’s lead shone brightly like the sun, gladdening his own divisions. When they saw Karna, not one considered the present a misfortune due to Bhishma’s death. The king and Kurus all were liberated from grief. Large numbers of united warriors told one another: ‘If they see Karna on the battlefield, the Pandavas won’t be able to remain in battle. Yes, Karna is quite good enough to defeat, in battle, the gods, Vasava leading them. So, what can be said about the adopted sons of Pandu, ones without energy or power? Mighty-armed Bhishma spared the Parthas in battle. Karna will slay them in battle with his sharp spears.’ Speaking to one another thusly, joyful, they sallied forth, praising and worshipping the son of Radha. As for our army, Drona arranged it to be a type of vehicle; the formation of our noteworthy enemies, O king, was a crane – O Bharata tribesman, righteous King Yudhishthira, quite cheerful, arranged it. Leading their formation were those two top men, Vishnu and Dhananjaya, their flag, one with a flag on it, prepared. The bulge of the entire army and the shelter for all archers was Partha’s flag, one given naturally boundless energy. It floated in the sky and seemed to brighten the entire army of Mahatma Yudhishthira. Partha’s flag, naturally quite wise, seemed to resemble the blazing sun that rises at the end of the age to swallow the world. Amongst archers, Arjuna is the best, amongst bows, Gandiva is the best, amongst creatures, Vasudeva is the best, and amongst discs, Sudarsana is the best. Containing those four bodies of energy, the chariot white horses were hitched to took its position at the front of the unfriendly army, like the brutal discus raised to strike. So, the two top men stood before their individual armies (Karna leading your army and Dhananjaya leading the unfriendly one). Each wished to slay the other; Karna and Arjuna eyed each other in battle.
"Then, when that mighty chariot-warrior, Bharadwaja’s son, sallied forth into battle quite quickly, the ground seemed to shake with loud wailing sounds. The heavy dust kicked up by the wind, resembling a canopy of yellowish-brown silk, cloaked the sky and sun. Though the sky was cloudless, a shower of bits of flesh, bone, and blood fell. Thousands of vultures, hawks, cranes, storks, and crows kept swooping down upon the Kauravan men. Jackals cried out; many brutal, terrible birds kept wheeling to the left of your army, wishing to eat flesh and drink blood; many blazing meteors, illuminating the sky and covering large areas with their tails, fell to the ground with loud sounds and quivers. The wide disc of the sun, O king, seemed to spit lightning-bolts and make sounds like thunder when the Kauravan commander sallied forth. These and many other omens that were brutal and meant heroes would be destroyed were seen during battle. Then, a battle began between Kuru soldiers and Pandavan soldiers; they wished to slay one another. The din was so loud that it seemed to fill the entire planet. The Pandavas and the Kauravas, furious with one another and skilled in slicing, began striking one another with sharp weapons, wishing to win. Then, the great archer who shone greatly rushed at the Pandavan troops with much boldness, scattering hundreds of sharp arrows. The Pandavas and the Srinjayas, seeing Drona rush at them, welcomed him, O king, with showers upon showers of distinct sets of arrows. Shaken up and broken by Drona, the great army of Pandavas and Panchalas broke like rows of cranes separated by the wind. Summoning many divine weapons in battle, Drona shortly troubled the Pandavas and Srinjayas. Slaughtered by Drona like the Danavas slaughtered by Vasava, the Panchalas, led by Dhrishtadyumna, shook in battle. Then, the mighty chariot-warrior, Yajnasena's son Dhrishtadyumna, a hero familiar with divine weapons, broke, using arrow-showers, Drona’s army in many places. The mighty son of Prishata baffled, with his own arrow-showers, the showers of arrows shot by Drona, creating much slaughter for the Kurus. So mighty-armed Drona then, gathering his men in battle, rushed at the son of Prishata. He then shot at Prishata’s son a heavy arrow-shower, like Maghavat, his fury ignited, showering, quite powerfully, the Danavas. Then, the Pandavas and the Srinjayas, shaken by Drona and his spears, repeatedly separated like a herd of lesser animals attacked by a lion. The mighty Drona forced his way through the Pandavan army like a ring of fire. How truly wondrous it all seemed, O king. Mounted on his own excellent chariot which then resembled a city flying through the sky, one furnished with each necessity according to military science, one whose flag floated in the air, one whose rattle resounded through the battlefield, one whose horses were well-urged, and one whose flag was bright as crystal, Drona terrorized the enemies’ hearts and created much slaughter among them.’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Seeing Drona slaying horses, drivers, chariot-warriors, and elephants, the Pandavas, without being troubled, utterly surrounded him. King Yudhishthira, to Dhrishtadyumna and Dhananjaya, said: ‘Stop the container-born one (Drona), our men surrounding him on all sides carefully.’ Then, the mighty chariot-warriors, Arjuna and Prishata’s son, along with their followers, welcomed Drona as he arrived. The Kekayan princes, Bhimasena, Subhadra’s son, Ghatotkacha, Yudhishthira, the twins (Nakula and Sahadeva), the ruler of the Matsyas, the son of Drupada, the five sons of Draupadi (all joyful), Dhrishtaketu, Satyaki, the furious Chitrasena, the mighty chariot-warrior named Yuyutsu, and many other kings, O king, who followed the adopted sons of Pandu were each uniquely talented whilst upholding their line and power. Seeing, then, the army protected in battle by those Pandavan warriors, Bharadwaja’s son eyed it furiously. His rage ignited, that warrior, invincible in battle, swallowed, as he stood upon his chariot, the Pandavan army like a storm destroying great cloud-banks. Rushing from all sides at chariot-warriors, horses, foot-soldiers, and elephants, Drona furiously drove across the battlefield like a young man, despite his age. His red horses that were wind-swift, from an excellent breed, and covered with blood, O king, looked beautiful. Seeing the vow-keeping hero knocking them down like Yama, when his fury’s ignited, the soldiers of Yudhishthira fled, no matter where they were. Some fled and others regrouped; some looked at him and others stayed on the battlefield – the noise they made was brutal and terrible. The noise delighted heroes and made the timid more shy, filling the entire sky and planet. Again Drona, calling out his name in battle, made himself exceedingly brutal, scattering hundreds of arrows amongst the enemies. Yes, mighty Drona, though old, acted like a young man, driving like Death, sire, through the divisions of Pandu’s adopted son. The brutal warrior severed heads and arms that were decorated with decorations, made the fronts of many chariots empty, and roared like a lion. Due to those joyous shouts of his and due to his spear-power, the warriors, O Lord, of the unfriendly army shook like a herd of cows troubled by the cold. Due to his rattling chariot, his bow-string being drawn back, and his bow twanging, the entire sky reverberated, creating a din. The hero’s spears, flying in the thousands from his bow and swallowing the compass-directions, leapt upon elephants, horses, chariots, and foot-soldiers of the enemy. Then, the Panchalas and the Pandavas boldly approached Drona, who, armed with his quite powerful bow, resembled a fire whose weapons were its flames. Along with their elephants, foot-soldiers, and horses, he began sending them to Yama’s home. Drona muddied the ground with blood. Scattering his great numbers of mighty weapons and shooting his great numbers of spears from all angles, Drona soon covered all the compass-directions and nothing could be seen except his arrow-showers. When it came to all the foot-soldiers, chariots, horses, and elephants, nothing could be seen but Drona’s arrows. All that could be seen was the flag of his chariot, moving like flashes of lightning amongst the chariots. His soul unable to be disenheartened, Drona, armed with his bow and arrows, troubled the five Kekayan princes and the ruler of the Panchalas; then, he rushed at Yudhishthira’s section. Bhimasena, Dhananjaya, Sini’s grandson, Drupada’s sons, Kasi’s ruler (the son of Saivya), and Sivi, cheerful, roaring loudly, coated him with arrows. Thousands of spears decorated with golden wings, shot from Drona’s bow, piercing the bodies of elephants and the young horses of those warriors, went underground, their feathers dyed with blood. The battlefield, bestrewn with chariots, flat bodies of great numbers of warriors en masse, and elephants and horses mangled with spears resembled the sky covered with banks of black clouds. Drona, wishing to enrich your sons, having crushed the sections of Satyaki, Bhima, Dhananjaya, Subhadra’s son, Drupada, and the ruler of the Kasi, having crushed many heroes in battle, yes, having done these and many other things as a mahatma and warrior, and having, Kuru chief, scorched the world like the sun does as it rises at the end of the age, sallied forth, O king, to Heaven. The hero with a golden chariot, that unfriendly-army-crusher, the one who’d done many feats and slain thousands of Pandavan men in battle, was finally slain by Dhrishtadyumna. He slew, truly, more than two Akshauhinis of brave warriors who would never be reborn; the hero with natural intelligence finally earned the loftiest state. Yes, O king, having done the most difficult things, he, at last, was slain by the Pandavas and the cruel-deed-doing Panchalas. When the teacher was slain in battle, there arose in the sky, O king, a great din, one made by all creatures, including all troops. Resounding through Heaven, Earth, the intermediate cosmos, and the main and lesser directions was the great cry of: Curses! from all creatures. The gods, Pitris, and Drona’s friends all saw that the mighty chariot-warrior, the son of Bharadwaja, was dead. The Pandavas, having won, gave leonine cries. The ground shook due to those loud shouts of theirs.’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Dhritarashtra said: How did the Pandavas and the Srinjayas slay Drona in battle? He was so skilled in weapons as a weapons-wielder. Did his chariot break during battle? Did his bow break in battle? Did Drona have no chariot when the final blow was struck? How, O child, did Prishata’s son, Dhrishtadyumna, the Panchalan prince, truly slay the hero unable to be humiliated by enemies, the one who scattered heavy showers of spears that had golden wings, the one with natural agility, the top Brahmin, the one skilled in everything, the one who knew all types of warfare, the one who could hurl his spears great distances, the self-controlled one, the one with natural skill in weaponry, the one armed with divine weapons, the mighty warrior with immortal glory who was always sensible, the one who did the most brutal things in battle? To me, it’s plain that Fate is better than making use of oneself – brave Drona has been slain by the mahatma and son of Prishata and Drona was a hero in whom were the four kinds of weapons. Alas, to hear that Drona, the archery teacher, has been slain! Hearing about the slaughter of the hero who used to ride his bright chariot, one covered with tiger skins and decorated with pure gold, my grief is incorrigible. Surely, O Sanjaya, no one dies of the grief felt due to another’s misfortune – I, a wretch, still live despite my hearing of Drona’s death. Methinks Fate is omnipotent and labor useless. Surely, my heart, hard as it is, is made of adamant – it hasn’t broken into a hundred pieces now that I’ve heard of Drona’s death. Alas, the one served by Brahmins and princes wishing to be taught The Vedas, divination, and archery has been taken away by Death. I cannot tolerate the overpowering of Drona, something like the drying up of the sea, the removal of Mount Meru from its site, or the sun falling from the sky. He tamed the wicked and protected the righteous. The enemy-scorcher who died for wretched Duryodhana – his power was the key to the hope of victory for my wicked sons. He was equal to Vrihaspati or Usanas in intelligence – alas, how was he slain? His large, red horses covered with a golden net that were as swift as the wind were unable to be hit by any weapon in battle, were naturally quite strong, were ones that neighed cheerfully, were well-trained, were Sindhus, were hitched to his chariot and drew it excellently, and were ones that always offered support in battle – did they weaken or faint? Coolly tolerating, in battle, the roar of elephants, those huge creatures whinnied at blasted conchs and beaten drums, unmoved by twanging bows, arrow-showers, and other weapons, giving a sign that the enemy would be defeated by their very appearance. They never inhaled deeply when laboring and were above exhaustion and pain – how could the swift horses that drew the chariot of Bharadwaja’s son soon be overpowered? That’s what the horses hitched to his golden chariot were like. That’s what the horses the top human hero hitched to his chariot were like. He was mounted on his own, excellent chariot decorated with pure gold, so why, son, was he unable to cross the Pandavan-army-sea? What did Bharadwaja’s son do in battle, he being the warrior who always made other heroes cry, he being one whose knowledge of weapons the world’s archers trust? Sticking firmly to the truth and naturally quite mighty, what did Drona truly do in battle? Which chariot-warriors met the brutal-deeds-doer, that top archer, that top hero who was like Shakra in Heaven? Did the Pandavas flee when they saw the one with the golden chariot, mighty strength, and the one who summoned into existence divine weapons? Did righteous King Yudhishthira and his younger brothers, having the Panchalan prince (Dhrishtadyumna) for their rope, attack Drona, utterly surrounding him with his troops? Surely Partha must’ve, using straight spears, stopped all the other chariot-warriors; then, Prishata’s sinning son must’ve surrounded Drona. I know of no other warrior except for brutal Dhrishtadyumna (protected by Arjuna) who could have planned for the mighty hero’s death. It seems those heroes – the Kekayas, Chedis, Karushas, Matsyas, and the other kings – surrounded the teacher and held him down like ants holding down a snake whilst he was focused on doing something difficult. Wretched Dhrishtadyumna must’ve slain him then. That’s what I think. The one who studied Vedic knowledge and its history sheltered the Brahmins like the sea sheltering rivers – that enemy-scorcher who was a Brahmin and a Kshatriya – alas, how could that Brahmin respected for his age be murdered? Proud-spirited, he was still often humbled and made to feel pain because of me. However much he deserved that, he still, due to Kunti’s son, was rewarded for his behavior. The one the world’s archers trusted by way of deeds – alas, how could that hero who stuck firmly to truth and was naturally quite skilled be slain by those who wanted power? The best man on earth – like Shakra in Heaven being supreme – the quite mighty and energetic one – alas, how could the Parthas have slain him like small fish swallowing a whale? Any warrior who went before him, wishing to win, died trying; he, whilst he lived, always was the sound of Vedic recitation to those who wanted to be educated in that way and the sound of twanging bows to those wishing to be skilled archers; he was always cheerful – alas, that tigrine man, the hero who was naturally prosperous and invincible in battle, the warrior whose power was equal to a lion’s or elephant’s, has been slain. Truly I cannot tolerate even the concept of his death. How could Prishata’s son, in plain sight of the top men, slay, in battle, the invincible warrior whose might was never humbled and whose fame was always pure? Who fought before Drona on the front-line, guarding him and standing on his left and right? Who marched behind him and earned the reward so difficult to earn? Which mahatmas and warriors protected the right and the left wheels of Drona? Which were on the front-line whilst he struggled in battle? Which, not caring for their lives then, faced Death and died? Which heroes took their final journey in battle? Were any Kshatriyas assigned to guard Drona untrue, abandoning that hero in battle? If so, was Drona slain by the enemy, deserted and alone? Drona would never, out of fear, turn tail in battle, no matter how great the danger was. So, how was he slain by the enemy? Even when greatly troubled, O Sanjaya, a noteworthy one ought to make use of himself according to how mighty he is. That’s what Drona was like. O child, I am losing my senses. Let’s talk about this later. Once I come to, I will resume the conversation, O Sanjaya.’”
“Vaisampayana said,
‘Having addressed the Suta’s son thusly, Dhritarashtra, troublingly and supremely grievous of heart and without hope that his son would win, fell to the ground. Seeing that he was senseless and that he had fallen, his servants sprinkled him with perfumed, cold water, fanning him all the while. Seeing that he had fallen, the female Bharatas, O king, utterly surrounded him and gently massaged him. Slowly picking the king off the ground, the royal ladies, voices choked by tears, put him on his seat. There, the holy king remained in a swoon. He did not move a muscle; they stood around him, fanning him. Then, the king had a seizure and slowly came to. Again, he asked Galvagana’s son, a Suta, about what had happened during battle.