Thou shalt behold that ruler of the Sindhus, of sinful behaviour, and brought up in every luxury, pierced by me with my shafts! On the morrow, O Krishana, I shall do that which shall make Suyodhana think that there is no other bowman in the world who is equal to me! My Gandiva is a celestial bow! I myself am the warrior. O bull among men! Thou, O Hrishikesa, art the charioteer! What is that I will not be able to vanquish? Through thy grace, O holy one, what is there unattainable by me in battle? Knowing my prowess to be incapable of being resisted, why, O Hrishikesa, dost thou, yet rebuke me? As Lakshmi is ever present in Soma, as water is ever present in the Ocean, know this, O Janarddana, that even so is my vow ever accomplished! Do not think lightly of my weapons! Do not think lightly of my tough bow! Do not think lightly of the might of my arms! Do not think lightly of Dhananjaya! I shall go to battle in such a way that I shall truly win and not lose! When I have vowed it, know that Jayadratha hath already been slain in battle! Verily, in the Brahmana is truth; verily, in the righteous is humility; verily, in sacrifice is prosperity; verily, in Narayana is victory!
“Sanjaya continued,–‘Having said these words unto Hrishikesa, the son of Vasudeva, having himself said so unto his own self, Arjuna in a deep voice, once more addressed lord Kesava, saying–Thou shouldst O Krishna, so act that my car may be well equipt as soon as this night dawns, since grave is the task that is at hand!'”
SECTION LXXVII
“Sanjaya said, ‘Both Vasudeva and Dhananjaya, afflicted with sorrow and grief and frequently sighing like two snakes, got no sleep that night. Understanding that both Nara and Narayana were in rage, the gods with Vasava became very anxious thinking, ‘What will come of it?’ Fierce winds, that were again dry and foreboded danger, began to blow. And a headless trunk and a mace appeared on the disc of the sun. And although it was cloudless, frequent thunders were heard, of loud report, mixed with flashes of lightning. The earth with her mountains and waters and forests, shook. The seas, those habitation of Makaras, swelled O king, in agitation. The rivers ran in directions opposite to their usual course. The nether and upper lips of car-warriors and steeds and men and elephants began to tremble. And as if for gladdening the cannibals, on that occasion foreboding a great accession of population to the domain of Yama, the animals (on the field) began to eject urine and excreta, and utter loud cries of woe. Beholding these fierce omens that made the hair stand on end, and hearing also of the fierce vow of the mighty Arjuna, all thy warriors, O bull of Bharata’s race became exceedingly agitated. Then the mighty-armed son of Pakasasana said unto Krishna. ‘Go, and comfort thy sister Subhadra with her daughter-in-law. And, O Madhava, let also that daughter-in-law, and her companions, be comforted by thee; O lord, comfort them with soothing words that are again fraught with truth.’ Thus addressed, Vasudeva, with a cheerless heart, wending to Arjuna’s abode, began to comfort his sorrowing sister afflicted with grief on account of the death of her son.’
“Vasudeva said, ‘O lady of Vrishni’s race, do not grieve, with thy daughter-in-law, for thy son. G timid one, all creatures have but one end ordained by Time. The end thy son hath met with-that becometh a hero of proud lineage, especially who is a Kshatriya. Do not, therefore, grieve. By good luck it is that mighty car-warrior of great wisdom, of prowess equal to that of his father, hath, after the Kshatriya custom, met with an end that is coveted by heroes. Having vanquished numberless foes and despatched them unto Yama’s presence, he hath himself repaired to those eternal regions, that grant the fruition of every wish, and that are for the righteous. Thy son hath attained that end which the righteous attain by penance, by Brahmacharya, by knowledge of the scriptures, and by wisdom. The mother of a hero, the wife of a hero, the daughter of a hero, and a kinsman of heroes, O amiable one, grieve not thou for thy son who hath obtained the supreme end.
The wretched ruler of the Sindhus, O beautiful lady, that murderer of a child, that perpetrator of a sinful act, shall, with his friends and kinsmen, obtain the fruit of this arrogance of his on the expiry of this night. Even if he enters the abode of Indra himself he will not escape from the hands of Partha. Tomorrow thou shalt hear that the head of the Sindhus hath, in battle, been cut off from his trunk to roll on the outskirts of Samantapanchaka! Dispel thy sorrow, and do not grieve. Keeping the duties of a Kshatriya before him, thy brave son hath attained the end of the righteous, that end, viz., which we here expect to obtain as also others that bear arms as a profession. Of broad chest, mighty arms, unreturning, a crusher of car-warriors, thy son, O beautiful lady, hath gone to heaven.
Drive away this fever (of thy heart). Obedient to his sires and maternal relations, that heroic and mighty car-warriors of great prowess hath fallen a prey to death, after having slain thousands of foes comfort thy-daughter-in-law, O queen! Do not grieve too much, O Kshatriya lady! Drive away thy grief, O daughter, as thou shalt hear such agreeable news on the morrow. That which Partha hath vowed must be accomplished. It cannot be otherwise. That which is sought to be done by thy husband can never remain unaccomplished. Even if all human beings and snakes and Pisachas and all the wanderers of the night and birds, and all the gods and the Asuras, help the ruler of the Sindhus on the field of battle; he shall still, with them, cease to exist tomorrow.'”
SECTION LXXVIII
“Sanjaya said, ‘Hearing these words of the high-souled Kesava, Subhadra, afflicted with grief on account of the death of her son, began to indulge in these piteous lamentations: ‘Oh, son of my wretched self, O thou that wast in prowess equal to thy father, O child, how couldst thou perish, going to battle! Alas, how doth that face of thine which resembleth the blue lotus and is graced with beautiful teeth and excellent eyes, now seem, now that, O child, it is covered with battle’s dust! Without doubt, thee so brave and unreturning, thee fallen on the field, with beautiful head and neck and arms, with broad chest, low belly, thy limbs decked with ornaments, thee that art endued with beautiful eyes, thee that art mangled with weapon wounds, thee all creatures are, without doubt, beholding as the rising moon! Alas, thou whose bed used to be overlaid with the whitest and costliest sheets, alas, deserving as thou art of every luxury, how dost thou sleep today on the bare earth, thy body pierced with arrows? That hero of mighty arms who used of old to be waited upon by the foremost of beautiful women, alas, how can he, fallen on the field of battle, pass his time now in the company of jackals! He who of old was praised with hymns by singers and bards and panegyrists, alas, he is today greeted by fierce and yelling cannibals and beasts of prey.
By whom, alas, hast thou been helplessly slain when thou hadst the Pandavas, O lord, and all the Panchalas, for thy protectors? Oh son, O sinless one, I am not yet gratified with looking at thee. Wretched as I am, it is evident that I shall have to go to Yama’s abode.
When again shall I cast my eyes on that face of thine, adorned, with large eyes and beautiful locks that smooth face without pimples, from which sweet words and exquisite fragrance constantly issued? Fie on the strength of Bhimasena, on the bowmanship of Partha, on the prowess of the Vrishni heroes, and the might of the Panchalas! Fie on the Kaikeyas, the Chedis, the Matsyas, and the Srinjayas, they that could not protect thee, O hero, while engaged in battle! I behold the earth today to be vacant and cheerless. Without seeing my Abhimanyu, my eyes are troubled with affliction.
Thou wast the sister’s son of Vasudeva, the son of the wielder of Gandiva, and thyself, a hero and an Atiratha. Alas, how shall I behold the slain! Alas, O hero, thou hast been to me like a treasure in a dream that is seen and lost. Oh, every thing human is as transitory as a bubble of water. This thy young wife is overwhelmed with grief on account of the evil that hath befallen thee. Alas, how shall I comfort her who is even like a cow without her calf! Alas, O son, thou hast prematurely fled from me at a time when thou wast about to bear fruit of greatness, although I am longing for a sight of thee. Without, doubt, the conduct of the Destroyer cannot be understood even by the wise, since although thou hast Kesava for thy protector, thou wast yet slain, as if thou wast perfectly helpless.
O son, let that end be thine which is theirs that perform sacrifices and theirs that are Brahmanas of purified soul, and theirs that have practised Brahmacharya, and theirs that have bathed in sacred waters, and theirs that are grateful and charitable and devoted to the service of their preceptors, and theirs that have made sacrificial presents in profusion. That end which is theirs that are brave and unretreating while engaged in battle, or theirs that have fallen in battle, having slain their foes, let that end be thine.
