2 Stri-vilapa 12 41.7 34:45
| 16 Gandhari, with her spiritual eye, beheld the slaughter of the Kurus and lamented piteously. She saw the field of battle, strewn with dead bodies, and heard the cries of grief-stricken ladies. The Kuru ladies, bereaved of their lords, beheld their slain relatives and fell down senseless. Gandhari addressed Krishna, describing the carnage and her grief. She saw beasts of prey feasting on the bodies and heroes sleeping on the bare ground. She lamented that those who once slept on soft beds now slept in dust, and their ornaments were now vultures and wolves. She saw ladies weeping and crying, their faces pale and resplendent like red lotuses. The earth was strewn with severed heads and limbs, and the ladies were unable to catch each other's meaning amidst their loud wails. Gandhari united heads with trunks, but often discovered her mistakes and wept more bitterly. She saw her sons and grandsons slain and struck her head with her own hands. The earth was impassable, miry with flesh and blood, and Gandhari was plunged into unutterable woe. She thought of her past vows and the gift of the boon by Vyasa, and felt that she had been punished for her devotion to her lord. She saw the destruction of the Kurus and Pancalas, and felt that the five elements had been destroyed. She lamented that the heroes who once delighted in battle now lay still, and their garlands of gold were scattered about. |
| 17 Gandhari, bereft of her senses, fell to the ground upon seeing Duryodhana. Regaining her senses, she wept and lamented, embracing her son's blood-covered body. She exclaimed, "Alas, O son!" and addressed Krishna, "On the eve of battle, he asked for my blessing, and I told him victory would be his if he followed righteousness." She grieved for Dhritarashtra, bereaved of friends and kin. Gandhari lamented Duryodhana's fate, once a mighty warrior, now lying on the ground, covered in blood, surrounded by vultures. She remembered his former glory, when fair ladies delighted him, and kings vied to please him. Now, he lay slain, his great strength and prowess gone. Gandhari lamented her own fate, having disregarded Vidura's wisdom, and now faced the loss of her son. She saw the Earth, once ruled by Duryodhana, now ruled by another, and wept for the fair ladies who wept by the side of slain heroes. The sight of her son's wife, Lakshmana's mother, disheveled and weeping, was more painful than her own son's death. Gandhari's heart was breaking at the sight of her son and grandson slain in battle. She wondered how her heart did not shatter into a hundred fragments. The princess, once delighting in her lord's embrace, now smelled his blood-covered head. Gandhari pitied the unfortunate princess, rubbing her son's and lord's faces, sorrowing for both. If the scriptures were true, Duryodhana had attained the regions of blessedness, won by the use of weapons. |
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| 18 Gandhari lamented to Krishna, "Behold, my hundred sons, all slain by Bhimasena! What grieves me more is their young wives, deprived of sons, wandering the battlefield with dishevelled hair. They, who once walked on terraces with ornamented feet, now touch the hard earth, miry with blood. They reel in sorrow, driving away vultures and jackals. Behold, the mother of Lakshmana falls, overwhelmed with grief. These ladies, seeing their brothers, husbands, and sons lying dead, are themselves falling, seizing the arms of the slain. Listen to their loud wails and behold their fatigue. They support themselves against broken chariots and slain elephants, resting in grief. Some take up severed heads, decked with nose and earrings, and stand in grief. I think we must have committed great sins for our relatives to be slain thus. "Behold, young ladies of beautiful bosoms and abdomen, well-born and modest, are falling, deprived of sense, uttering piteous cries like flights of cranes. Their beautiful faces, resembling full-blown lotuses, are scorched by the sun. Alas, the wives of my proud children, possessed of prowess like infuriated elephants, are now exposed to the gaze of common people. Behold, the shields, standards, coats of mail, and head-gears of my sons, scattered on the earth, blazing with splendor like sacrificial fires. There, Duhshasana sleeps, felled by Bhima, and the blood of all his limbs quaffed by that heroic slayer of foes." |
| 19 Gandhari lamented to Krishna, "My son Vikarna lies on the ground, slain by Bhima! His young wife tries to drive away vultures, but they pierce his scarred palms, cased in leathern fences. Though pierced with arrows, his beauty remains, like the moon in the autumnal sky. My son Durmukha sleeps, face towards the enemy, slain by Bhimasena in observance of his vow. His face, half-eaten by beasts, looks handsome still, like the moon on the seventh day of the lighted fortnight. How could he be slain? Behold, Citrasena, the model of bowmen, lies slain, surrounded by ladies and beasts of prey, crying and roaring in grief. The cries of women and beasts seem wonderful to me, a sorrowful sight. My son Vivinsati lies there, stained with dust, his armor pierced, his garland and wreaths torn apart. Slain in battle, he is now surrounded by vultures, a hero's bed. His beautiful face, with a smile, resembles the Moon, adorned with excellent nose and fair eyebrows. Many ladies used to wait upon him, like thousands of celestial girls upon a sporting gandharva. Who could endure my son Duhsaha, that slayer of heroic foes, that hero, that ornament of assemblies, that irresistible warrior, that resister of foes? The body of Duhsaha, covered with arrows, looks resplendent like a mountain overgrown with flowering karnikaras. With his garland of gold and his bright armor, Duhsaha, though deprived of life, looks resplendent yet, like a white mountain of fire!" |
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| 20 Gandhari lamented to Krishna, "Abhimanyu, the son of Arjuna, lies slain! His wife, Uttara, grieves, rubbing his blood-dyed body with her hand. She recalls their happy times, when she would embrace him, intoxicated with wine. Now, she laments, 'Why do you not speak to me? You were brought up in luxury, yet you sleep on the bare ground, slain by the enemy.' She gathers his blood-dyed locks, placing his head on her lap, and speaks to him as if he were alive. 'How could they slay you, a warrior of tender years? Fie on those who slew you! You were the sister's son of Vasudeva, the son of the wielder of Gandiva. How could they surround and slay you? You were the pride of the Pandavas, the hope of the Parthas. Your death has pierced my heart, like a shaft of sorrow.' Uttara's lamentations are heartbreaking. The ladies of the royal house of Matsya drag her away, themselves afflicted by grief. They weep and wail at the sight of the slain Virata, surrounded by screaming vultures and howling jackals. The ladies, weakened by grief, try to turn the body, but are unable to do so. Their faces are colorless and pale, scorched by the sun and worn out with exertion and toil. They mourn the loss of Abhimanyu, Uttara, Sudakshina, and Lakshmana, all lying on the field of battle. Gandhari's sorrow is boundless, her words a lamentation of the devastation of war. She thinks of her own sons, slain in the battle, and her heart breaks anew. The sorrow of the women, the cries of the jackals, the scent of blood and death, all mix together in a scene of unimaginable grief." |
| 21 Gandhari lamented, "The mighty Karna lies on the ground, slain by Arjuna! He was a blazing fire in battle, now extinguished. That great bowman and car-warrior was wrathful and full of energy, but now sleeps on the ground, drenched in blood. My sons fought under his lead, but even he was slain by Partha. His wives, with dishevelled hair, wail around him, their voices piercing the sky. King Yudhishthira couldn't sleep for thirteen years, thinking of Karna. He was like an all-destroying fire, immovable like Himavat, and protector of Dhritarashtra's son. Now, he lies on the ground, like a tree uprooted by the wind. His wife and mother of Vrishasena lament, crying and falling to the ground, their grief boundless. She exclaims, 'His preceptor's curse pursued him! When his chariot wheel was swallowed by the earth, Dhananjaya cut off his head with an arrow!' Carnivorous creatures feed on his body, reducing it to small dimensions. The sight is not gladdening, like the moon on the fourteenth night of the dark fortnight. The cheerless dame falls and rises, burning with grief for her son and lord. Alas, Karna, the great warrior, lies slain!" |
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| 22 Gandhari lamented, "Behold, the lord of Avanti lies slain by Bhimasena! Vultures and jackals feed on his body, a hero who once struck fear in the hearts of his enemies. Though he had many friends and allies, he now lies friendless, a victim of the cruel hand of fate. His wives, crying in grief, sit around him, their faces once radiant with joy now pale and sorrowful. Pratipa's son Bahlika, a mighty bowman, lies slain, his face still bright like the full moon, a reminder of his former glory. Indra's son Arjuna slew him to fulfill his vow, a testament to his unwavering determination. Jayadratha, protected by Drona, was slain by Partha after penetrating eleven Akshauhinis, a feat that showcased his bravery and skill. Vultures feed on his body, and carnivorous creatures drag it away, a stark contrast to the honor and respect he once commanded. His wives, though devoted, cannot protect him now, and I grieve for my daughter Duhshala, now a widow, and my daughters-in-law, lordless and bereft. Duhshala searches for her husband's head, striking her body in grief, a heart-wrenching sight that pierces my soul. He who checked the Pandavas and caused a vast slaughter finally succumbed to death, a reminder that even the mighty can fall. His beautiful wives cry, sitting around the irresistible hero, their sorrow a testament to his greatness." |
| 23 Gandhari lamented, "There lies Shalya, my brother, slain by Yudhishthira! He boasted of his equality with thee, but now lies dead, his face eaten by crows. His tongue, once golden, is now being eaten by birds. The ladies of Madra wail around him, like she-elephants around their leader. Bhagadatta, king of mountains, lies dead, his golden garland still shining. Shalya and Bhagadatta, both mighty warriors, lie dead, their bodies mangled. Bhishma, son of Shantanu, lies dead, his vital seed drawn up. He told the Pandavas of his own death, and now lies on a bed of arrows, his head resting on a pillow of three arrows. Drona, the brahmana, lies dead, his weapons gone. He was a preceptor to Arjuna and the Kurus, and his death is a great loss. His auspicious feet, once adored, are now dragged by jackals. Kripi attends to his body, her senses deprived by grief. The reciters of Samas sing and weep, having placed his body on the funeral pyre. His disciples, with matted locks, have piled the pyre with bows and darts and car-boxes. The three Samas are being sung, and the brahmacaris are weeping. Drona's body is being consumed by fire, like fire in fire. His death is a great sorrow, and I grieve for him. Ah, the mighty have fallen, and the brave have been slain. The earth is bereft of its heroes, and the heavens weep at the sight. The Kauravas, once so proud, now lie dead, their bodies mangled. The Pandavas, once so noble, now stand victorious, their hearts heavy with grief." |
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| 24 Gandhari lamented, "Behold Somadatta's son, slain by Yuyudhana, pecked at by birds! Somadatta burns with grief, censuring Yuyudhana. His wife says, 'By good luck, you don't see this carnage, your son slain, your daughters-in-law widowed and grieving. You don't hear their wails, like the screams of cranes on the bosom of the sea.' She mourns, 'Your son, who performed sacrifices and bore the sacrificial stake on his banner, lies dead, his arm torn off by Arjuna. Alas, he struck off his arm unfairly! Alas, Satyaki took his life while he was in a vow!' Bhurishrava's wives lament, surrounding their lord, slain by Satyaki. They cry, 'This arm used to invade women's girdles, now it's still! This arm used to give thousands of kine and exterminate Kshatriyas in battle!' They place his lopped arm on their laps, weeping bitterly. 'Arjuna of pure deeds, how could you perpetrate such a censurable act? How could you strike off his arm while he was heedless and engaged with another in battle?' They censure Arjuna, saying, 'What will you say of this feat in assemblies? What will you say of this great feat, O diadem-decked Arjuna?' The co-wives lament with them, as if they were their daughter-in-law. Shakuni, the chief of Gandharvas, lies slain by Sahadeva, his illusions burnt by the son of Pandu. A large number of birds sit around him, and I fear he may still foment dissensions in the region of the dead." |
| 25 Gandhari lamented, "Somadatta's son lies dead, pecked by birds! His wife mourns, 'You don't see this carnage, your son slain, your daughters-in-law widowed and grieving.' Bhurishrava's wives lament, 'This arm used to invade women's girdles, now it's still! This arm used to give thousands of kine and exterminate Kshatriyas in battle.' They censure Arjuna, 'How could you strike off his arm while he was heedless and engaged with another in battle?' The mother of Bhurishrava addresses her lord, 'By good luck, you don't see this terrible carnage, this extermination of the Kurus, this sight that resembles the scenes occurring at the end of the yuga.' She grieves, 'Your son, who performed sacrifices and bore the sacrificial stake on his banner, lies dead, his arm torn off by Arjuna.' The wives of Bhurishrava cry, 'Alas, Arjuna struck off his arm unfairly! Alas, Satyaki took his life while he was in a vow!' They place his arm on their laps, weeping bitterly. 'What will you say of this feat in assemblies, O diadem-decked Arjuna?' Shakuni, the chief of Gandharvas, lies slain, his powers of deception burnt. A large number of birds sit around him, and I fear he may still foment dissensions in the region of the dead." |
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| 26 The holy one said to Gandhari, "Arise, do not grieve! Your son Duryodhana was wicked-souled and arrogant. You applauded his wicked acts, and now many have died. A princess like you bears sons for slaughter." Gandhari remained silent, her heart agitated by grief. Dhritarashtra asked Yudhishthira how many had fallen in battle. Yudhishthira replied, "One billion 660 million and 20,000 men have fallen. 240,165 heroes have escaped with life." Dhritarashtra asked about their fate. Yudhishthira said, "Those who died cheerfully in battle have attained regions like Indra's. Those who died shamefully have attained lower regions." Dhritarashtra asked how Yudhishthira knew this. Yudhishthira replied, "I obtained spiritual vision from the celestial rishi Lomasa." Dhritarashtra asked what to do with the bodies of the slain. Yudhishthira commanded that their funeral rites be performed with due rites. Vidura, Sanjaya, and others caused the bodies to be burnt on funeral pyres, using sandal, aloe, and other woods, and perfumes. They properly burned the bodies of Duryodhana, his brothers, and other kings. The funeral fires blazed brightly, looking like luminous planets in the firmament. |
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| 27 Vaishampayana said, "The Kuru ladies, crying and grief-stricken, offered oblations of water to their loved ones. Kunti, overcome with grief, addressed her sons, 'Your eldest brother, Karna, was born of me by the god of day. He was a hero, a great bowman, and a warrior who shone like Surya himself. He was born with a pair of earrings and clad in armor, and resembled Surya in splendor.' Hearing this, the Pandavas grieved for Karna. Yudhishthira asked his mother, 'How was Karna, that ocean of a warrior, born of you? His might was always worshipped by the Dhartarashtras. How did you conceal him like a person concealing a fire within the folds of their cloth?' Kunti revealed that Karna was indeed their eldest brother, and Yudhishthira lamented, 'The grief I feel at Karna's death is a hundred times greater than that of Abhimanyu's or the sons of Draupadi. Thinking of Karna, I am burning with grief, like a person thrown into a blazing fire. Nothing could have been unattainable by us, not excepting things belonging to heaven.' He offered oblations of water to Karna and caused his family members to be brought before him to perform the water-rite. The king, with his senses agitated, rose from the waters of Ganga, having finished the ceremony. The shores of the stream, though crowded with those spouses of heroes, looked as broad as the ocean and presented a spectacle of sorrow and cheerlessness." |
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