Mahabharata Vol. 6 (Penguin Translated Texts) (9 page)

‘“Having killed the best of their warriors and afflicted by arrows, we returned to your camp in the evening, covered with blood. We glanced at the enemy warriors as we slowly departed. O great king! We were overcome with exhaustion and had lost our senses. That inauspicious time between day and night arrived. The inauspicious howls of jackals could be heard. The sun was pale red, like the filaments of lotuses. It stretched itself on the mountain behind which it sets.
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It took away the radiance from our supreme swords, lances, scimitars, bumpers of chariots, shields and ornaments. The earth
and the sky could not be differentiated. The sun assumed its beloved form of the fire.
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There were many giant and immobile carcasses of elephants, like the summits of mountains that had been shattered by the thunderbolt. Their standards and goads were strewn around and riders brought down, like cattle without a cowherd. There were slain horses and shattered seats. Horses and charioteers were slain and flags and pennants brought down. O lord of men! The maharathas looked beautiful, deprived of their lives by the enemy. There were masses of chariots and horses, with their slain riders, killed together and separately. Vessels and ornaments were strewn around. Tongues lolled out. Teeth jutted out. Entrails and eyes bulged out. The earth seemed to be extremely terrible. There were men with expensive armour and ornaments and the best of weapons. They were destroyed, together with their elephants, horses and chariots. Though they always deserved expensive beds and covers, they were slain and lay down helpless on the ground. Dogs, jackals, crows, wild crows, birds,
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wolves, hyenas, ravens, others who feed on blood, masses of rakshasas and large numbers of
pishacha
s
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were extremely delighted in that terrible field of battle. They penetrated the skin and fed on the fat, blood and marrow, also eating the flesh. As they tore at the bodies and dragged them away in large numbers, they laughed and sang. A terrible river of blood was created by the best of warriors. It was extremely fearful, like Vaitarani,
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and was difficult to traverse. The currents were blood that flowed from the bodies. The chariots were like rafts and the elephants were like rocks. The heads of men were the stones and the flesh was the mud. It flowed along, carrying many weapons like garlands. That terrible river flowed in the midst of that field of battle, bearing those from the world of the living to the world of the dead. Large numbers of
pishachas, horrible to look at, roared in terrible tones as they drank and ate there. They roared loudly, causing terror among those who were still alive. Dogs, jackals and birds also fed there. As night set in, the warriors glanced at that terrible sight, which was like the kingdom of the lord of the ancestors.
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The men glanced at that which arose with its terrible banks, and then slowly walked away. The maharatha, who was like Shakra himself, was brought down. He lay there, adorned in extremely expensive ornaments. The men saw that Abhimanyu had been killed in the battle, like a sacrificial fire on an altar, into which oblations were no longer being offered.”’

‘Sanjaya said, “When Subhadra’s brave son, the leader of rathas, was slain, all of them
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threw away their bows and freed themselves from their armour and their chariots. They seated themselves around King Yudhishthira. Their minds were on Subhadra’s deceased son and they reflected in misery. Since the maharatha Abhimanyu, his brother’s brave son, had been killed, King Yudhishthira was extremely overcome by grief and lamented. ‘To ensure that which would bring me pleasure, he penetrated Drona’s array. He shattered and penetrated the vyuha, like a lion in the midst of cattle. Brave and great archers from the other side encountered him in battle. They were skilled in the use of weapons and unassailable in battle. Yet, they were shattered and forced to retreat. He clashed against Duhshasana, our supreme enemy. But in the encounter, he used his arrows to swiftly render him unconscious and forced him to retreat. The brave one crossed the impassable great ocean that was Drona’s army. Having encountered Duhshasana’s son, Krishna’s son departed for Vaivasvata’s
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eternal abode.
When Subhadra’s son has been killed, how will I cast my eyes on Kounteya Arjuna? How will I glance at the immensely fortunate Subhadra, without her beloved son? What meaningless, disjointed and incoherent words will I speak to Hrishikesha and Dhananjaya? Addicted to my pleasure and desiring victory, I have performed this unpleasant deed for Subhadra, Keshava and Arjuna. An avaricious person does not understand his sins. Greed follows from delusion. Those who desire honey do not see the fall that confronts them and I am like that. He should have been honoured with food, vehicles, beds and ornaments. He was only a child. But we placed him at the forefront of the warriors. He was a child. He was young. He was not skilled in battle. What good could come from placing him in danger? He sacrificed himself like a well-trained horse. We will also lie down on the bare ground today, when we are scorched by Bibhatsu’s blazing anger and the misery of his eyes. He is not greedy. He is intelligent. He is modest. He is forgiving. He is handsome. He is powerful. He possesses a beautiful body. He is brave. He is affectionate. He is devoted to the truth. Even the gods praise his terrible deeds. The valiant one slaughtered the
nivatakavacha
s and the
kalakeya
s, the ones who were the enemies of the great Indra and resided in Hiranyapura. He killed the Poulamas and their followers in the twinkling of an eye.
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The lord grants sanctuary even to enemies who seek refuge with him. He is such a person. And today, we were incapable of protecting his son from danger. The extremely powerful sons of Dhritarashtra have been overcome by a great fear now. Partha will be enraged at the slaughter of his son and will destroy the Kouravas. The mean-minded one
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has mean-minded advisers. He will be distressed at seeing that his own side is exterminated. Duryodhana will grieve and will no longer remain alive. I do not find victory pleasant, nor the kingdom, or immortality or residence in the world of the gods, when I see that the son of the son of the supreme among the gods, with great valour and manliness, has been brought down.’”’

‘Sanjaya said, “That terrible day, which had caused a destruction of beings, was over. The sun set and the beautiful twilight presented itself. O bull among the Bharata lineage! Both sets of soldiers retired to their camps. Having slaughtered the samshaptakas with his divine weapons, Jishnu, the one with the ape on his banner,
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left for his camp, astride his victorious chariot. As he proceeded, he asked Govinda in a voice that was choked with tears. ‘O Keshava! Why is my heart terrified? Why are my words getting stuck? O Achyuta!
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Evil portents are agitating me and my body is faltering. It is as if evil thoughts are overwhelming my heart. In every direction, the earth seems to be fierce and the omens are terrifying me. They are seen to be of many different forms and seem to foretell a disaster. I hope the king, my senior, and his advisers, are well.’ Vasudeva replied, ‘It is evident that all is well with your brother and his advisers. Do not sorrow. There may have been some other evil somewhere else.’

‘“Those two brave ones performed their evening worship, mounted their chariot and proceeded. They spoke about what had transpired during the day’s war, which had destroyed so many heroes. Having reached their own camp, and after having performed extremely difficult deeds, Vasudeva and Arjuna found it to be cheerless and full of distress. Bibhatsu, the destroyer of enemy heroes, noticed that the camp was in a state of disarray. He told Krishna with a disturbed heart, ‘O Janardana! The trumpets are not being blown with auspicious sounds. They do not mingle with the sounds of beaten kettledrums, conch shells and drums. The
veena
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is not being sounded, with the sound of the slapping of palms. Auspicious songs are not being sung or recited. The bards are not chanting beautiful words of praise amidst our soldiers. On seeing me, the warriors are turning away and are lowering their faces. As on earlier occasions, they are not telling me about the deeds that they have accomplished.
O Madhava! I hope that everything has been well with my brothers today. On seeing that those on our side are distressed, I can find no peace of mind. O one who grants honours! O Achyuta! I hope all the warriors, together with the king of Panchala and Virata, are fine. Today, with his brothers, Subhadra’s son has not emerged to greet me happily, with a smile on his face, now that I have returned from the battle.’ Having conversed in this way, the two of them entered their own camp. They saw the distressed Pandavas there, bereft of their senses.

‘“On seeing his brothers and his sons,
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but on not seeing Subhadra’s son, the one with the ape on his banner became cheerless and spoke these words. ‘I notice that all your faces are pale and unhappy. I do not see Abhimanyu. Nor has he come forward to greet me. I heard that Drona constructed a chakra vyuha today. With the exception of Subhadra’s son, not a single one amongst you knew how to penetrate it in the battle. However, I did not teach him about emerging from the array. Did you ask the child to penetrate that enemy array? Did Subhadra’s son, the great archer and destroyer of enemy heroes, penetrate that array and fight with many among the enemy? Has he been slain and brought down? His eyes were red. He was mighty-armed. He was born
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and was like a mountain lion. He was the equal of Indra’s younger brother.
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Tell me. Has he been slain in the battle? He was delicate. He was a great archer. He was the son of Vasava’s son. He was always my beloved. Tell me. Has he been slain in the battle? He was the beloved of Varshneya.
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He was brave. He was always reared by me. He was always loved by his mother. Urged by destiny, who could have killed him? He was the equal of the lion among the Vrishnis, the great-souled Keshava. He was valiant, learned and great. Which warrior could have killed him? He was always loved by Subhadra, Droupadi and Keshava. If I do not see my son, I will go to Yama’s abode. The tips of his hair
were delicate and curled. He was a child. His eyes were like that of a young deer. He was as valiant as a crazy elephant. He was as tall as a young
shala
tree. He smiled when he spoke. He was self-controlled. He was always obedient to the words of his seniors. Even though he was a child, his deeds were like those of one who wasn’t a child. His words were pleasant and free of malice. He was great in his endeavour. He was mighty-armed. His eyes were long, like the petals of lotuses. He was compassionate towards those who were devoted to him. He was self-controlled. He did not follow that which was inferior. He was grateful. He possessed learning. He was skilled in the use of weapons. He did not retreat. He always rejoiced in battle and increased terror among the enemies. He was engaged in bringing pleasure to those on his own side. He desired the victory of his fathers. He never struck first in an encounter, violating codes of honour. If I do not see that son, I will go to Yama’s abode. He possessed a beautiful forehead. The tips of his hair were excellent. His eyebrows, eyes, teeth and lips were beautiful. Without seeing that face, how can there be peace in my heart? His words were pleasant and cheerful, like the melody of a male cuckoo. Without hearing those words, how can there be peace in my heart? His beauty was unmatched and is extremely rare, even among the residents of heaven. Without seeing that brave one, how can there be peace in my heart? He was skilled in showing honour. He was devoted to the words of his fathers. Without seeing him today, how can there be peace in my heart? He was delicate. He was always brave. He deserved the most expensive of beds. That supreme one among those who have protectors is lying down on the bare ground, as if he has no protector. Earlier, when he lay down, the best of women tended to him. With his limbs pierced and drained out, he is lying down today, tended to by inauspicious jackals. Earlier, he was awoken from his slumbers by the chants of bards, minstrels and raconteurs. It is certain that he will be awoken today by the distorted tones of beasts of prey. His beautiful face deserved to be covered by the shades of an umbrella. It is certain that it will be soiled today by the dust that has arisen from the field of battle. Alas, my son! I have never been satisfied from looking at my son. I am unfortunate. Death has forcibly taken him away from
me. Yama’s abode has always been attained by those with virtuous deeds. It is certain that you have rendered that beautiful region even more beautiful because of your own radiance today. It is certain that you are the beloved guest of Vaivasvata, Varuna, Shatakratu and the lord of riches and that your valour has obtained honour from them.’
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He lamented thus, in many different ways, like a merchant whose ship has been sunk.

‘“Overcome with great misery, he then asked Yudhishthira. ‘O descendant of the Pandu lineage! Did he cause great carnage among the enemy? Did that bull among men ascend to heaven after having fought well in the battle? Did he kill many bulls among men who fought against him? He was without an aide. There is no doubt that he thought of me when he sought help. When oppressed by arrows, my young son must have sought help from me. I think he must have lamented in this way when he was cruelly slain by the many. But he was my son and that of Madhava’s sister. He was born from Subhadra. Perhaps he could not have spoken in this way. It is certain that my heart is extremely firm and is made out of the essence of the vajra. Despite not being able to see the red-eyed and long-armed one, it is not shattered. How could those cruel and great archers shoot arrows at a child that penetrated the inner organs? He was Vasudeva’s sister’s son and my son. How could they shoot arrows at him? With an unblemished soul, he always used to greet me when I returned. I have returned after killing the enemy. Why don’t I see him today? It is certain that he has fallen down and is lying on the ground, covered in blood. He has made the earth beautiful with his body, like a sun that has fallen down. On hearing that he has been slain in battle, Subhadra will be miserable and will destroy herself. When she does not see Abhimanyu, what will she tell me? Overcome by grief, what will Droupadi tell me? What will I tell them? There is no doubt that my heart is made out of the essence of the vajra. On seeing my daughter-in-law weep, oppressed by sorrow, it is not shattering into a thousand fragments. I have heard the delighted sons of Dhritarashtra
roar like lions. Krishna heard Yuyutsu censure those brave ones in the following words. “O maharathas! Unable to withstand Bibhatsu, you have killed a child. O ones who are against dharma! Why are you rejoicing? You will now witness Partha’s prowess. In the battle, you have done what is disagreeable to Keshava and Arjuna. The time for sorrow has arrived, yet you are delightedly roaring like lions. The time will swiftly arrive for you to reap the fruits of this evil deed. You have performed extremely terrible adharma. How can you not reap the fruits soon?” Rebuking them in this way, the extremely intelligent son of the vaishya
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cast his weapons away and departed, overcome by grief and anger. O Krishna! Why did you not tell me about this while the battle was going on? I would then have slaughtered all those cruel maharathas.’ Vasudeva consoled the one who was overcome with grief on account of his son.