On this page
When Bhishma, son of Ganga, lay down on that bed of arrows, the very air of Kurukshetra changed. For ten days the old man had held up the Kaurava army on his own arms; now he lay on a mattress of shafts, as though a great storm had drunk an ocean dry, as though the stars had come loose from the sky, as though a standing crop had been scorched and the field left bare. The hope of Dhritarashtra’s sons went down along with their coats of mail and their peace of mind. Sanjaya came back to Hastinapura, sat before the blind king, and began to tell, in order, everything that had passed on the field. It is along this current of telling that we carry you now, to the turn where the preceptor Drona became commander of the Kauravas, where he gave his word to bring Yudhishthira in alive, and where the Samshaptakas, men sworn to kill or die, drew Arjuna off to the far end of the field.
The Kaurava Army Comes Apart When Bhishma Falls
Janamejaya asked Vaishampayana, the pupil of Vyasa, what king Dhritarashtra had done when he heard that his father Devavrata had been struck down by Shikhandin, prince of the Panchalas, with his eyes already brimming. Vaishampayana said that when he learned of his father’s fall, the Kuru king filled with anxiety and grief and could find no rest. That same night Sanjaya returned from the camp to the city, and the king, weeping, asked him what the Kauravas had done next, driven by fate, once Devavrata had gone down.
Sanjaya said that when Bhishma was slain, the warriors of both sides stood a while in their own thoughts. Reflecting on the duty of the Kshatriya, they were filled at once with wonder and with a strange joy, and they bowed their heads to that high-souled fighter. For Bhishma they built a bed with a pillow of straight shafts, made arrangements for his safety, and spoke gentle words to one another. Then, taking their leave of Ganga’s son and walking around him, looking at one another with eyes red with anger, they came out face to face once more for battle. To the boom of drums and the cry of trumpets the divisions of both hosts marched out.
The Kuru army, without Devavrata, looked like a flock of goats and sheep in a forest of beasts of prey, and no herdsman anywhere. With Ganga’s son fallen, the host of Bharata was like a frail boat on the ocean’s breast, shaken by a gale that came at it from every side. Under the sure and heavy blows of the Pandavas, the Kaurava host, with its horses and its cars and its elephants, grew troubled, helpless, and afraid. The frightened kings and the common soldiers no longer trusted one another, and the whole army seemed to be sinking into the lowest floor of the world.
A key to reading this (lineage): Bhishma is called by many names, Ganga’s son, Devavrata, Santanu’s son, and grandsire of the Bharatas. He was the son of King Santanu and the river Ganga, and stood in the generation of the great-grandsires of both the Kauravas and the Pandavas.
Then the Kauravas remembered Karna, who in their eyes was the equal of Devavrata himself. Every mind turned to that master of weapons the way the mind of a man in danger turns to a friend who can save him. The kings cried out: “Karna! Karna! Radha’s son, our friend, the hero of the Suta line who is always ready to give his life in battle! For these ten days he has not fought. Send for him at once!”
A sub-tale: Karna’s absence had an old cause. When the fighting men had been ranked, Bhishma had placed Karna among the Ardharathas, the half-car-warriors, though many held him to be worth two Maharathas. Stung by that slight, Karna had told Ganga’s son that as long as Bhishma lived he would not fight. If Bhishma killed the Pandavas, Karna would go to the forest with Duryodhana’s leave; and if Bhishma fell to the Pandavas and rose to heaven, Karna would climb his own single car and kill all of those whom Bhishma counted great. On that vow he had kept away from the field for the first ten days.
The gist: The moment Bhishma went down on his bed of arrows, the Kaurava army lost its nerve, and the warriors in their fear turned to Karna, who had stayed away all ten days because of his vow while Bhishma lived.
Karna Reaches the Field, and a Conversation of Grief
Hearing that Bhishma was slain, Karna, son of Adhiratha, came quickly to the field like an elder brother meaning to lift that sinking Kaurava army out of its distress. Addressing the soldiers, he said: “Bhishma had firmness, intelligence, prowess, truth, self-restraint, and every virtue of a hero. In him celestial weapons, modesty, sweet speech, and freedom from malice were as steady as fortune in the moon. Now that this destroyer of the foes of Brahmanas has found his quiet, I count all the rest of us already dead. Nothing in this world is imperishable. When Bhishma of high vows has been killed, who can say for certain that tomorrow’s sun will rise?”
At these words the sons of Dhritarashtra and their troops wailed aloud and shed tears of grief. Then, as the terrible fighting began again, Karna spoke to the great car-warriors words that gladdened them: “In this fleeting world everything drifts toward the mouth of death. When all of you stood by, how was Bhishma, unmovable as a hill, thrown from his car? Now I will guard this helpless Kuru host, as that high-souled one did. Let the burden fall on me. Yudhishthira has firmness, intelligence, virtue, and might; Bhima is strong as a hundred elephants; and Arjuna is young and the son of the lord of the gods. Their army is not to be beaten easily even by the celestials. Yet today I will stand against the enemy’s strength.”
Then Karna called for his armor, his headpiece, his bow and arrows. He had sixteen quivers tied to his car, and ordered his gold-bright conch, his mace, his standard, and horses swift as the wind made ready. Mounting an excellent car decked with gold, blazing like fire, he set out toward the field to win. The Kuru warriors received him the way the gods receive Indra.
The gist: Karna resolved to take on himself the defense of the sinking Kaurava army, and set out for the field fully arrayed.
Bhishma and Karna Meet on the Bed of Arrows
On the field Karna saw the grandsire Bhishma stretched on his bed of arrows, like Mount Meru brought down to the ground, like the sun come down out of the sky. Overcome with grief, he stepped from his car, and with tears in his eyes went to him on foot. With joined palms, saluting him in reverence, he said: “I am Karna. Blessings on you. Open your eyes and look at me, and speak to me some sacred and auspicious word. From this day, best of the Bharatas, the Pandavas in their wrath will kill the Kurus as tigers kill deer. Without you, hero, these kings cannot bear even the rattle of Arjuna’s ape-bannered car. With your leave, I have it in me to kill that mighty son of Pandu by the force of my weapons.”
Then the old grandsire of the Kurus, with a glad heart, spoke words fitted to the time and place: “As the ocean is a refuge to rivers, as the sun to all lights, be you a refuge to your kinsmen and friends. Let your kinsmen lean on you as the gods lean on the thousand-eyed one. To please Duryodhana you went to Rajapura and conquered the Kambojas, and in Girivraja you vanquished many kings with Nagnajit at their head, and the Amvashthas, the Videhas, the Gandharvas, the Kiratas, the Kalingas, and the Valhikas. In auspicious words I bid you go and fight the foe and give Duryodhana his victory. You are to us a grandson, even as Duryodhana is. The wise say that the bond of the good with the good is a higher kinship than the bond of one womb.”
In these words of Bhishma the deeper moral layer of the Mahabharata opens. Bhishma knew that Karna was in truth the son of Kunti, elder brother of the Pandavas, and by calling him “our grandson” he pointed quietly at that hidden truth. Karna bowed at Bhishma’s feet in reverence and went off to where the Kaurava bowmen stood.
The gist: Bhishma blessed Karna, handed him the burden of the army’s defense, and, calling him “our grandson,” gave a fine hint of his true birth.
Choosing a Commander: Karna’s Counsel
Seeing Karna on his car, Duryodhana was glad and said: “This army has found, I think, a fit protector. Still, let us settle now what is right and within our power.” Karna answered: “Speak yourself, best of men, for you are the wisest of kings. No one sees a thing so well as the one whose concern it is.”
Duryodhana said: “Bhishma was our commander; for ten days he guarded us by fair fight and did the hardest of deeds. Now that he is going to heaven, whom after him do you think fit to be our commander? An army without a leader cannot stand in battle even a moment, like a boat without a helmsman on the water. Look among all the high-souled warriors of our army and find such a leader as can take the place of Santanu’s son.”
Karna said: “These are all high-souled men, and every one of them is fit to lead. But they cannot all lead at once. One must be chosen, one with some special merit. They hold each other equals; if one is honored, the rest will be displeased and will not fight with their whole heart for you. But here is Drona, the weapons-master of all these warriors, ripe in years and worthy of honor. When invincible Drona is present, a knower of Brahman, the equal of Sukra or Vrihaspati, who else deserves to lead? In your whole army there is not a king who would not follow Drona once he goes to battle. So, Duryodhana, make him your commander without delay, as the gods made Kartikeya their commander to conquer the Asuras.”
A key to reading this (a concept): The senapati is the supreme commander of the whole army. Over the war, Bhishma, Drona, Karna, Shalya, and Ashvatthama held that office in turn. Drona’s command lasted five days, from the eleventh day of the war through the fifteenth.
The gist: Showing political sense, Karna declined the office himself and advised making the weapons-master Drona commander, so that the other warriors would not turn sullen.
Drona’s Anointing and the Command
Hearing Karna’s words, Duryodhana turned to Drona, who stood among the troops, and said: “Best of Brahmanas, for the height of your birth, the nobility of your line, your learning, years, and wisdom, your prowess and skill, your invincibility, your policy and self-command, your austerity and your gratitude, there is no leader among all these kings to match you. As Kapali is first among the Rudras, Pavaka among the Vasus, Kuvera among the Yakshas, Vasava among the Maruts, Vasishtha among Brahmanas, the sun among lights, Yama among the Pitris, and Varuna among the creatures of the waters, so are you first among all leaders of hosts. Take these eleven akshauhinis under your command and kill our foes as Indra killed the Danavas. If you become our commander, best of men, I will vanquish Yudhishthira in battle with all his followers and kin.”
At this all the kings cried victory to Drona and gladdened Duryodhana with a lion’s roar. Then Drona said: “I know the Vedas with their six branches; I know the science of the ways of men; I am versed in the Saiva weapon and in many kinds of arms. Trying to make real those virtues you have laid on me in your wish for victory, I will fight the Pandavas. But, O king, I will not be able to kill the son of Prishata, for he was born for my slaughter. I will fight the Pandavas and cut down the Somakas. As for the Pandavas, they will not fight me with glad hearts.”
Listen closely to the moral shadow that falls from Drona’s acceptance. The preceptor knows that Dhrishtadyumna will be his killer, and still he takes the command; and the Pandavas, who were once his own pupils, will fight him only under compulsion. Then Duryodhana made Drona lord of the army by the proper rites, as in the old days the gods under Indra anointed Skanda. Drums beat, conchs rang, Brahmanas raised their blessings and their cries of victory, and Drona was honored in due form. The Kaurava warriors began to count the Pandavas as already beaten.
A key to reading this (numbers in modern terms): By tradition one akshauhini held 21,870 chariots, as many elephants, 65,610 horses, and 109,350 foot soldiers. Eleven akshauhinis come to more than two million fighting men, a host that even by today’s measure runs larger than several modern armies put together.
A sub-tale: On taking command, Drona set the army in a shakata, an array shaped like a cart. Jayadratha, king of the Sindhus, the king of the Kalingas, and Vikarna held the right wing; Kripa, Kritavarma, Chitrasena, and Vivimsati, under Duhsasana, guarded the left; and Duryodhana and Karna were placed in the center, with warriors of many lands forming the rear. The Pandavas set their own army in a krauncha, an array shaped like a heron, at whose head stood Vasudeva and Dhananjaya on the ape-bannered car.
The gist: Drona accepted the command, knowing that Dhrishtadyumna was his appointed killer and that the Pandavas were his pupils; he was anointed by rite, and the army took up its battle array.
Drona’s First Day: Ruin on the Field
When Drona drove into battle at speed, the earth itself seemed to shudder with the sound of wailing. Though there were no clouds, the sky rained flesh and bone and blood; vultures, hawks, and crows fell in their thousands upon the army; jackals shrieked, and many frightful omens showed themselves, signs of a slaughter of heroes. Then such a fierce fight broke out between the two hosts that its din seemed to fill the whole earth.
Blazing with his own splendor, Drona rushed the Pandava army, scattering hundreds of keen arrows. As a gale tears apart the ranks of cranes, so the Pandavas and Panchalas broke before him. Calling up celestial weapons, in a short while Drona set Dhrishtadyumna and the Panchalas trembling. But the mighty son of Prishata baffled Drona’s arrow-showers with his own and made a great slaughter among the Kurus. Drona then rallied his men, poured cloudlike arrows on the son of Prishata, and wheeled through the Pandava army like a ring of fire.
Seeing this, Yudhishthira said to Dhrishtadyumna and to Dhananjaya: “Let the pitcher-born Drona be checked; let our warriors ring him about on every side with care.” Then Arjuna and the son of Prishata, with their followers, came to face him. The Kekaya princes, Bhima, Abhimanyu, Ghatotkacha, Yudhishthira, Nakula and Sahadeva, the king of the Matsyas, the son of Drupada, the five sons of Draupadi, Dhrishtaketu, Satyaki, Yuyutsu, and many others each showed prowess worthy of their line.
Filled with wrath, old as he was, Drona ranged the field like a young man, as though death itself were walking among the divisions of Pandu’s sons. He cut off heads and arms decked with ornaments, emptied the platforms of many cars, and roared like a lion. His arrows, in their thousands, covered the four quarters and fell on elephants, horses, cars, and foot, and the field turned to a mire of blood. In that hour nothing could be seen but Drona’s arrows; only the standard on his car showed itself, flashing like lightning.
A key to reading this (lineage): Drona is called the pitcher-born, or Bharadwaja’s son, because by the tale he was born from the seed of the sage Bharadwaja in a pot, or drona. The “son of Prishata” is Dhrishtadyumna, son of King Drupada, who was born from a fire-rite for the very purpose of killing Drona.
The gist: The moment he took command, Drona wheeled through the Pandava army like a ring of fire and made a heavy slaughter, though Dhrishtadyumna kept coming at him.
Drona’s River of Blood, and the Duels of Heroes
Drona set a dreadful river flowing across the field, such as is seen at the end of an age. Its source was the rush of Drona’s wrath; the warriors were its waves, the heroes the trees along its banks, and the flowing blood its water. Cars became its whirlpools, horses and elephants its shores, coats of mail its water lilies, and the severed heads the stones scattered on its beach. That river carried thousands of great car-warriors to the realm of Yama; only the very strong could cross it, never the timid.
In the meantime many single combats broke out. Shakuni, full of a hundred kinds of guile, rushed at Sahadeva; Sahadeva cut apart Suvala’s son’s bow and car, and the two, both left without cars, fought on with maces like two crests of hills. Bhima pierced Vivimsati with his arrows. Shalya, laughing, pierced his own dear nephew Nakula, but Nakula cut down his uncle’s horses, umbrella, standard, driver, and bow, and blew his conch. Dhrishtaketu closed with Kripa, Satyaki with Kritavarma, Drupada with Bhagadatta, and Shikhandin with Bhurishravas, the son of Somadatta. Ghatotkacha, the son of Hidimba, and the Rakshasa Alambusha, each eager to master the other by illusion, fought a wonderful fight.
Strangest of all was Abhimanyu’s duel. A warrior named Paurava showered him with arrows, but the son of Subhadra cut down his standard, umbrella, and bow. When Abhimanyu fitted the arrow that would take Paurava’s life, Kritavarma, son of Hardikya, sheared off that bow and arrow with two shafts. Then Abhimanyu took up sword and shield and moved so that no eye could tell the weapon of attack from the weapon of guard. He sprang onto Paurava’s car, seized him by the hair, kicked his driver to the ground, cut down his standard with the sword, and hauled Paurava up as Garuda lifts a snake from the bed of the sea.
Then Jayadratha, king of the Sindhus and a sworn foe of Abhimanyu’s father, could not bear the sight. Taking up a peacock-marked shield and a sword, he leapt from his car. Abhimanyu let Paurava go and came down like a hawk, and the two joined in a lion’s swordfight. When Abhimanyu struck, Jayadratha’s sword caught in the boy’s gold-plated shield and broke, and the Sindhu king fell back six steps and in the blink of an eye was up on his own car again. Then Shalya flung an iron dart that glowed like a flame; Abhimanyu caught it in mid-air like Garuda, and with that same dart killed Shalya’s driver and threw him down. Virata, Drupada, Dhrishtaketu, Yudhishthira, Satyaki, Bhima, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandin, the twins, and the sons of Draupadi all cried out, “Well done! Well done!”
Then the mace-fight of Bhima and Shalya began. Both roared like bulls, both wheeled in circles. Their maces met and threw off sparks of fire, and hissed like angry serpents. In the end, each struck down by the other’s force, the two fell to the ground at the very same instant, like a pair of Indra’s poles. Kritavarma set the swooning Shalya on his own car and bore him from the field, while Bhima, in the space of a wink, was on his feet again, mace in hand. Seeing the king of the Madras turn from the fight, your sons trembled, and the Pandavas roared their joy.
The gist: Amid Drona’s slaughter many duels flared; Abhimanyu showed uncommon prowess against Paurava, Jayadratha, and Shalya, and in the mace-fight of Bhima and Shalya both fell together.
Vrishasena’s Valor, and the Close of Day
Seeing his army break, Vrishasena, the valiant son of Karna, took up its defense single-handed, and by the craft of his weapons scattered thousands of arrows that spread through the sky like the rays of a summer sun. Shatanika, the son of Nakula, sent ten deep-piercing arrows at him, but Karna’s son cut down his bow and standard. Then the other sons of Draupadi ran to save their brother and buried Karna’s son under a storm of arrows. To rescue him, many car-warriors came under Ashvatthama’s lead, and a grim fight broke out.
Then Yudhishthira’s army, roaring like the sea, began to cut down your host. At this Drona called out, “Do not run, heroes!” and, furious as an elephant with four tusks, drove into the Pandava army straight at Yudhishthira. Yudhishthira pierced him with arrows, but Drona cut down the king’s bow and rushed on. Then the Panchala prince Kumara, guard of Yudhishthira’s car-wheels, checked Drona, and Drona killed that brave man.
Drona pierced Shikhandin, Uttamaujas, Nakula, Sahadeva, Yudhishthira, the sons of Draupadi, Satyaki, and the king of the Matsyas, and pressed toward Yudhishthira to seize him. Yugandhara barred the way, and Drona felled him with a broad-headed shaft. Then Virata, Drupada, the Kaikeya princes, Satyaki, Sivi, Vyaghradatta, and Singhasena ringed Drona about to shield Yudhishthira, raining countless arrows; but Drona struck the earring-decked heads from Vyaghradatta and Singhasena and stood before Yudhishthira’s car like death made flesh.
Then a cry of dismay ran through Yudhishthira’s army: “The king is taken!” The warriors said, “Today Drona will seize Yudhishthira and carry him to Duryodhana.” At that very moment Arjuna, son of Kunti, came filling the sky with the thunder of his car, and by his carnage set a river of blood running that scattered the Kurus. He covered Drona’s divisions with so dense a net of arrows that in a moment neither the quarters, nor the sky, nor the earth could be seen, only a thick darkness of shafts. Just then the sun itself, wrapped in a cloud of dust, went down. Friend could no longer be told from foe, and so Drona, Duryodhana, and Arjuna all drew their armies off. Victorious, Arjuna came back to camp in the rear of the whole host, with Keshava beside him.
The gist: Drona had come close to seizing Yudhishthira, but Arjuna’s timely arrival and the setting of the sun undid the attempt.
Duryodhana’s Boon, and the Vow to Take Yudhishthira Alive
After he had taken command, Drona had said to your son, before the whole army: “O king, as you have honored me with the command right after Ganga’s son, take now the proper fruit of that act. Tell me, what work of yours shall I accomplish? Ask the boon you desire.” Then Duryodhana, having taken counsel with Karna, Duhsasana, and the rest, said to the preceptor: “If you would give me a boon, then take that best of car-warriors, Yudhishthira, alive, and bring him here to me.”
Hearing this, Drona gave an answer that gladdened all the soldiers: “Praised be the son of Kunti, whom you wish only to seize and not to kill. Best of men, why do you not ask for the boon of his death instead? It is a great wonder that Yudhishthira the just has no enemy who wishes him dead. Since you want him alive, either you wish to save your own line from ruin, or, having beaten the Pandavas, to give them back their kingdom and set up a brotherly bond. Truly he is called Ajatashatru, the one born no foe, for even you bear him love.”
At these words of Drona’s, the feeling that always lived in Duryodhana’s heart broke suddenly into the open, for not even a Vrihaspati can wholly hide what shows on his face. Filled with joy, Duryodhana said: “Preceptor, the death of Kunti’s son cannot bring me victory. If Yudhishthira is killed, then Partha will surely kill us all, and them the very gods cannot kill; whoever of them is left will root us out. But Yudhishthira keeps his word as truth. If he is brought here alive and beaten once more at dice, the Pandavas will go again to the forest, for they all obey Yudhishthira. Such a victory will last. This is why I do not, by any means, want the death of Yudhishthira the just.”
The moral crookedness of this exchange must be kept plain rather than smoothed over. Duryodhana’s aim is not a clean victory; it is to seize Yudhishthira by a trick, to lean on his vow of truth, then beat him at dice and send the Pandavas to the forest. Drona, who knew the science of gain to its core, read the twisted purpose, thought a moment, and gave the boon only within a limit.
A sub-tale: Ajatashatru means “the one for whom no enemy has been born.” The name belongs to Yudhishthira’s nature, to a plainness and a hold on dharma so complete that Drona can say even Duryodhana loves him in some hidden corner. The Mahabharata does not flatten the line between friend and foe here; the preceptor’s affection for his pupils and his sense of duty run on side by side.
The gist: Duryodhana asked that Yudhishthira be taken alive rather than killed, so that he could be beaten again at dice and the Pandavas sent back to the forest; Drona saw through the twisted design.
Drona’s Condition: Remove Arjuna
Drona said: “If the hero Arjuna does not guard Yudhishthira in battle, then count the eldest Pandava as already yours. As for Partha, the gods and the Asuras together under Indra cannot advance against him in the fight. That is why I cannot do the thing you ask. Arjuna is my pupil, and I was his first teacher in arms. But he is young, richly blessed, and single-minded on his purpose. He has won many weapons from Indra and from Rudra, and you have made him angry besides. So, by whatever means, draw Arjuna out of the battle. Once Partha is gone, count Yudhishthira as beaten. The victory lies in his seizure, not in his death; even by stratagem he can be taken. That king, given to truth and dharma, I will surely bring under your control this very day, if he stands before me in battle even a moment, provided that Dhananjaya, tiger among men, is drawn from the field. But while Phalguni is by, O king, Yudhishthira cannot be seized in battle even by the gods and Asuras led by Indra.”
When Drona gave his word under these limits, your foolish sons took it that Yudhishthira was as good as caught. Duryodhana knew the preceptor’s leaning toward the Pandavas; so, to hold Drona to his word, he made the plan public, and had it proclaimed through the whole army that Drona had vowed to seize the eldest Pandava.
The gist: Drona bound his vow to one condition, that Arjuna first be drawn away from Yudhishthira’s side; and Duryodhana, to hold the preceptor to it, announced the vow to the entire army.
Yudhishthira’s Vigilance, and Arjuna’s Word
Yudhishthira the just soon learned the whole of Bharadwaja’s son’s purpose through his spies. He called together his brothers and the other kings and said to Dhananjaya: “Best of men, you have heard Drona’s aim. Let measures be taken so that it comes to nothing. He has made his vow under limits, and those limits rest on you. So today, mighty-armed one, fight near me, that Duryodhana may not have from Drona the thing he wants.”
Arjuna said: “As I can never kill my preceptor, so I can never abandon you. Son of Pandu, I would sooner give up my life in battle than fight my teacher. Let the sky with its stars fall, let the earth split apart, yet while I live Drona will never seize you. Though Indra of the thunderbolt himself, or Vishnu at the head of the gods, come to his aid, still they will not manage it. My vow is never left undone; I do not recall ever speaking an untruth, or ever being beaten.”
Then in the Pandava camp conchs, drums, cymbals, and small drums sounded, and the high-souled Pandavas gave many a lion’s roar. In answer the instruments rang out among your own divisions. Both armies, ordered in their arrays, moved slowly toward each other, and a battle broke out that made the hair stand on end.
The gist: Yudhishthira asked Arjuna to stay near him, and Arjuna vowed that as long as he lived Drona would never take the king; so the preceptor’s design was put to the test again and again.
Drona’s Chagrin, and the Oath of the Samshaptakas
That day, with Arjuna holding firm at Yudhishthira’s side, Drona’s attempt failed. When the armies had gone back to their camps, Drona, cheerless and ashamed, said to Duryodhana: “I told you already that as long as Dhananjaya is with Yudhishthira, the very gods cannot seize him in battle. All of you fell on him together, and still Partha brought your every effort to nothing. Krishna and the son of Pandu are invincible; do not doubt it. If by any means Arjuna of the white horses can be drawn from Yudhishthira’s side, then the king will soon come under your control. Let someone challenge him to battle and draw him off to another part of the field; the son of Kunti will not return without beating him. Then, while Arjuna is away, I will break into the Pandava host before the very eyes of Dhrishtadyumna and take Yudhishthira the just.”
Hearing Drona’s words, the king of the Trigartas said to his brothers: “We have always been humbled by the wielder of Gandiva. We did him no wrong, and yet he has always tormented us. Remembering all those humiliations, we burn with wrath and cannot sleep at night. By good fortune he will now stand before us with his weapons. We take this vow: today the earth shall be without Arjuna, or without the Trigartas. Our vow will never prove false. We will lead him off the field and kill him.”
Satyaratha, Satyavarman, Satyavrata, Satyeshu, and Satyakarman, these five brothers, came forward with ten thousand cars. The Malavas, the Tundikeras, and the brave Susarman, king of Prasthala, with the Mavellakas, the Lalithas, and the Madrakas, came also with thousands of cars to take the oath. They kindled fires, put on robes of kusa grass, bathed in clarified butter, and, girding themselves with their own bowstrings, buckled on their mail. These men, who had given hundreds of gifts to Brahmanas, who had performed many sacrifices, who had been blessed with sons, and who had nothing left to do in this world, swore aloud before the fire, in the hearing of all creatures, that if they came back from the field without killing Dhananjaya, or turned their backs in fear, theirs should be the very hells kept for the worst of sinners; and that if they achieved this hard thing, theirs should be the most longed-for regions.
A key to reading this (a concept): The Samshaptakas are warriors who swore before the fire either to return only after killing their target, Arjuna, or to die themselves and win a hero’s death; there was no option of retreat. Trigarta was an old land of the Punjab whose king, Susarman, led the oath out of a long grudge against Arjuna.
The gist: As Drona’s condition required, thousands of warriors under Susarman of Trigarta took the fire-witnessed “kill or die” oath of the Samshaptakas, so that they might draw Arjuna far from Yudhishthira and slay him.
Arjuna Drawn to the Southern Flank, and the Battle of the Samshaptakas
Having taken this oath, the warriors marched off toward the southern part of the field, calling Arjuna to come. Challenged by them, Arjuna said to Yudhishthira without delay: “When I am summoned I never turn my back; this is my fixed vow. These men, sworn to conquer or die, are calling me to great battle. This Susarman with his brothers is challenging me. Give me leave to kill him and all his followers; I cannot bear to let this challenge pass. I tell you truly, count these foes as already slain.”
Yudhishthira said: “You have heard, my son, what Drona has resolved to do. Act so that his resolve comes to nothing. Drona is mighty, a hero, skilled in arms and past all weariness, and he has vowed to take me captive.” Arjuna answered: “This Satyajit will be your protector today in battle. As long as Satyajit lives, the preceptor cannot have his wish. But if that brave man is killed, then you must not stay on the field, even if all our warriors surround you.” Yudhishthira gave Arjuna leave, embraced him, looked on him with love, and blessed him many times. Then the mighty Partha set out toward the Trigartas like a hungry lion. The moment Arjuna drew off, Duryodhana’s army grew frantic to seize Yudhishthira.
The Samshaptakas drew up their cars on a level plain in an array shaped like a half-moon. Seeing Arjuna come, they raised a glad shout at the very hour when they should have wept. At this Arjuna said to Krishna with a small smile: “Look, son of Devaki, these Trigarta brothers, who are about to perish in battle, are rejoicing. Or perhaps this truly is their hour of joy, since they will win those high regions that cowards can never reach.” Then he blew, with great force, his gold-decked conch Devadatta, and at its blast that host of Samshaptaka cars stood as though turned to stone; the animals froze with wide eyes and slackened limbs, passing urine and vomiting blood.
Recovering their wits, they loosed their arrows all at once, but Arjuna cut those thousands of shafts in mid-flight with fifteen arrows. They covered Subahu’s leather guard and shielded Sudharman and Sudhanwan, and Arjuna in answer cut down their golden standards. He sheared off Sudhanwan’s bow, killed his horses, and struck his turbaned head from his shoulders. At this his followers took fright and fled toward Duryodhana’s forces. Then the king of the Trigartas called after them: “Do not run, heroes! What will become of the dreadful oath you swore before all the soldiers? What will you say to Duryodhana’s leaders when you go back? Stop, and fight to the full of your strength.” So the warriors turned about, and joining the Narayana cowherds, made ready to defy death itself.
Arjuna said to Krishna: “Drive the horses toward the Samshaptakas, Hrishikesha; they will not leave the fight alive. Today you shall see the terrible strength of my arms and my bow.” Krishna smiled and brought the car up to them. Then the Narayanas ringed Arjuna about with arrow-showers, and for a moment the son of Kunti and Krishna were all but lost from sight. In wrath Arjuna loosed the weapon called Tvashtri, and countless forms of himself sprang into being; bewildered, the Trigartas took one another for Arjuna and struck one another down. Seeing their arrows strike home, they thought both Krishnas dead and waved their garments in joy. Then Krishna, drenched in sweat, cried out: “Where are you, Partha? I cannot see you. Are you alive?” At this Arjuna scattered that arrow-storm with the Vayavya weapon, and the wind god carried the Samshaptakas off with their horses and elephants like dry leaves.
So Arjuna ranged that battle like Rudra, and his car looked like the car of Rudra destroying all creatures at the end of an age. And meanwhile, in the very hour that Arjuna was locked in this fierce fight, Drona had already driven his ordered host forward to seize Yudhishthira, with many warriors following him for that purpose. In this way the Samshaptakas drew Arjuna to the far end of the field, and Drona’s net began to close around Yudhishthira.
A key to reading this (a concept): The Tvashtri and Vayavya are celestial weapons. The Tvashtri raises many illusory doubles that confound the enemy into fighting one another; the Vayavya, tied to the wind god, sweeps a mass of foes away like a gale. The Narayana cowherds were the army of Krishna that had been given to Duryodhana.
The gist: The Samshaptakas drew Arjuna to the southern end of the field; he cut them down with the Tvashtri and Vayavya weapons, but in the meantime Drona drove his army forward to seize Yudhishthira, and so the way to his boon opened.
Bhishma’s Repose, and the Question of a Commander
In Hastinapura, the city that took its name from the elephant, Dhritarashtra sat sunk in his grief. Sanjaya, back from the camp at night, came to him again, and the king asked the question that kept rising within him. Devavrata Bhishma, son of Ganga, whose prowess none had ever been able to baffle, now lay on his bed of arrows. Putting Shikhandin, the Panchala prince, before him, Arjuna had thrown him from his car. For ten days the old fighter had guarded the Kaurava army by fair war; now he lay waiting for the northward turning of the sun, holding his breath.
Dhritarashtra said: “Sanjaya, when that high-souled Bhishma fell, when that unconquerable hero was slain, what did the fate-driven Kauravas do next? An army left without a leader is like a boat foundering in an ocean of grief. Tell me everything in full.”
Sanjaya answered that when Bhishma fell, the warriors of both sides stood still a moment. They built for that great hero a bed of straight arrows, laid arrows too for his pillow, arranged for his safety, saluted him, and walked around him in reverence. Then, red-eyed, looking at one another, the Kshatriyas went out again for battle. But without Ganga’s son the Kaurava army looked like a sky without stars, like a river whose water has dried, like a flock of goats and sheep with no herdsman in the wood. In every mind one name rose: Karna. Karna, who had not fought the first ten days, now came.
With Ganga’s son fallen, the Kaurava army looked like a starless sky, like an earth of blasted crops, like a river run dry; like the old host of the Asuras after Vali was struck down, like a lovely woman widowed, like a boat caught wallowing in a whirlpool, so was that army, without its refuge, troubled, helpless, and afraid. Then they remembered Karna, who was himself the equal of Devavrata and who had not fought the first ten days. Every heart turned to that great bowman as the heart of a man in danger turns to a friend who can help. The kings cried: “Karna! Karna! Our friend, the Suta’s son, ever ready to give his life in battle! Send for him at once!”
Karna came, and set about lifting the cheerless Kaurava warriors as a father lifts children out of a sinking boat. Addressing the army, he said that Bhishma, in whom firmness, intelligence, prowess, truth, self-restraint, and every hero’s virtue had been as steady as fortune in the moon, had now grown quiet, and that with him gone he counted all the other heroes as good as slain. “Nothing in this fleeting world is imperishable. When men of high vows like Bhishma fall, who can say for certain that tomorrow’s sun will rise? Born of the energy of the Vasus, that lord of the earth has gone back among the Vasus.” Then he said that he himself would now guard this helpless, downcast army, and that the burden should fall on him. “Yudhishthira has firmness, intelligence, virtue, and might; Bhima is strong as a hundred elephants; Arjuna is young and the son of the lord of the gods. Yet I will not endure this feud. Today I will go to the field and stand against the enemy’s strength.” So Karna had his car made ready, called for his golden armor, his sun-bright crown, his fire-like arrows, and sixteen quivers, and put flower garlands on his limbs from the vessels of good omen. Then, on a car drawn by the finest wind-swift horses, splendid as Indra, Karna set out toward the field where Bhishma had paid his debt.
Karna went to Bhishma. Stepping down from his car, his eyes full of tears, coming on foot with joined palms, he said: “I am Karna. Bharata, open your eyes toward me and speak some auspicious word. Best of the Kurus, I see no one to match you in filling the treasury, in counsel, in setting the army in array, and in the use of weapons.” Bhishma looked on him with love. That converse belongs to the story that follows; for now the thread lies where, in the Kaurava camp, the question arose of who should be commander next.
A key to reading this (names): Many names for Bhishma run through the tale. Devavrata is his birth name; Ganga’s son, or Gangeya, means the son of Ganga; Santanu’s son means the son of King Santanu; Bhishma means the one of the terrible vow. All are one man.
The gist: Bhishma lies on his bed of arrows and the Kaurava army is left without a head. Every mind fixes on the question of a commander, turning first to Karna, then to a name even greater than his.
Karna’s Counsel: Let It Be Drona
Duryodhana said to Karna, before all the warriors: “Tiger among men, Bhishma, rich in years, prowess, and learning, was our commander and the refuge of all. For ten days he guarded us by fair war and did the hardest of deeds. Now that he is going to heaven, whom do you deem fit to be our commander? Without a leader an army cannot hold the field a moment. As a boat without a helmsman, or a car without a driver, wanders here and there, so fares a leaderless host. Look among all the high-souled warriors and find a fit leader to take the place of Santanu’s son. Whomever you judge worthy, him we will surely make our leader.”
Karna said: “These are all high-souled men, and each is fit to lead. All are well-born, skilled in the stroke, brave and wise, learned in the scriptures, and never turning their backs in war. But they cannot all lead at once. One must be chosen, one with some special merit. They hold each other equals; if one is honored, the rest will be displeased and will not fight for you with a whole heart. But here is one who is the weapons-master of all these warriors, ripe in years and worthy of honor. Let Drona be made leader, this first of all who bear arms. When invincible Drona is here, the equal of Sukra or Vrihaspati, who else deserves to lead? In your whole army there is not a king who would not follow Drona once he goes to battle. He is the first among leaders of hosts, among wielders of weapons, and among the wise; and he is your own teacher besides. So, Duryodhana, make him the leader of your army without delay, as the gods made Kartikeya their commander to conquer the Asuras.”
A sub-tale: Karna’s comparison runs deep. Kartikeya, or Skanda, the son of Shiva, was made commander by the gods to kill the demon Taraka. There were many gods, yet the lead was given to one, so that the host would not scatter. Karna is saying that even when all are equal in merit, sound policy still chooses one on the ground of honor and seniority, and that one is Drona.
The gist: Karna, though he counts them all equals, names Drona on the ground of seniority and the office of teacher, since under him the army would stay united and free of jealousy.
Drona Anointed to the Command
Hearing Karna’s words, Duryodhana turned to Drona, standing among the troops, and said: “Preceptor, for the excellence of your birth, the nobility of your parents, your learning, your years, and your wisdom, your prowess, skill, and invincibility, your knowledge of the ways of the world, your policy and self-command, your austerity and your gratitude, none among all these kings can make so good a leader as you. Guard us as Vasava guards the gods. With you for leader we would conquer our foes. As Kapali is first among the Rudras, Pavaka among the Vasus, Kuvera among the Yakshas, Vasava among the Maruts, Vasishtha among Brahmanas, the sun among lights, Yama among the Pitris, Varuna among the creatures of the waters, the moon among the stars, and Usanas among the sons of Diti, so are you first among all leaders of hosts. Take these eleven akshauhinis under your command. Sinless one, seeing a great bowman like you draw your bow at our head, Arjuna will not strike. Surely, tiger among men, if you become our leader, I will vanquish Yudhishthira in battle with all his followers and kin.”
At these words all the kings cried victory to Drona and gladdened Duryodhana with their lion’s roar. Then Drona replied: “I know the Vedas with their six branches. I know the science of the ways of men. I am versed in the Saiva weapon and in many other kinds of arms. Trying to make real those virtues you have named in me, I will fight the Pandavas. But, O king, I will not be able to kill the son of Prishata. Best of men, he was born for my slaughter. I will fight the Pandavas and cut down the Somakas. As for the Pandavas, they will not fight me with glad hearts.”
So, with Drona’s leave, Duryodhana made him the commander of the army by the proper rites. Under Duryodhana’s lead the kings anointed Drona to the command, just as in the old days the gods under Indra anointed Skanda. When the anointing was done, the army’s joy burst out in the roll of drums and the blare of conchs. With the blessings of Brahmanas, with cries of victory and the dancing of mimes, Drona was honored, and the Kaurava warriors counted the Pandavas as already beaten.
A key to reading this (numbers in modern terms): An akshauhini was a vast unit of army, by tradition 21,870 chariots, as many elephants, 65,610 horsemen, and 109,350 foot soldiers. Eleven akshauhinis, more than two million fighting men, were now to move at a single sign from Drona. In modern terms it was a charge on the scale of many full corps, as though the command of a nation’s whole field army were laid on one man.
Drona’s moral knot should not be hidden here. He admits himself that Dhrishtadyumna was born for his own slaughter, and still he takes the lead of the army against which his own beloved pupils, the Pandavas, stand. He says the Pandavas will not fight him with glad hearts. The preceptor’s heart is bound on one side to the cause of adharma and on the other by affection. This complication is the soul of the Drona Parva.
The gist: Drona accepts the command, stating his learning and his limits plainly, that Dhrishtadyumna will kill him and that the Pandavas will fight him unwillingly. He is anointed by rite, and the Kauravas gladly count the Pandavas already lost.
The Boon Offered: Duryodhana’s Demand
Having won the command, Drona said to Duryodhana before the whole army: “O king, right after that son of the ocean-going Ganga, you have honored me with the lead of the army. Take now the proper fruit of that act. What work of yours shall I accomplish? Ask the boon you desire.”
Then Duryodhana, having taken counsel with Karna, Duhsasana, and his other advisers, said to the preceptor: “If you would give me a boon, then take that best of car-warriors, Yudhishthira, alive, and bring him here to me.”
Hearing this, Drona gave an answer that gladdened the whole army: “Praised be Kunti’s son Yudhishthira, whom you wish only to take captive and not to kill. Unconquerable one, why do you not ask some other boon, the boon of his death, for instance? Tiger among men, why do you not want his death? You are not, surely, a stranger to policy. It is a great wonder that king Yudhishthira has no enemy who wishes him dead. Since you wish to keep him alive, either you would save your own line from ruin, or, having beaten the Pandavas in war, you would give them their kingdom and set up a brotherly bond. That wise prince was born under a good star. Truly he is called Ajatashatru, the one born no foe, for even you bear him love.”
At these words of Drona’s, the feeling that always lay hidden in Duryodhana’s heart came suddenly into the open. Not even a Vrihaspati can keep the look off his face. Filled with joy, Duryodhana said: “Preceptor, the death of Kunti’s son would bring me no victory. If Yudhishthira were killed, Partha would surely kill us all, and them not even the gods can kill. Whoever of them survived would root us out. But Yudhishthira is true to his word. If he is brought here alive and beaten once more at dice, the Pandavas will go again to the forest, for they all obey Yudhishthira. Such a victory would surely last. That is why, by no means, do I want the death of Yudhishthira the just.”
A sub-tale: Ajatashatru means “the one for whom no enemy has been born.” It is Yudhishthira’s byname and a proof of his hold on dharma. With this one word Drona holds up a mirror to Duryodhana: if even you love him in some hidden place, how free of malice must the man himself be. The mention of dice points back to the old story, when by Shakuni’s cheating Yudhishthira lost everything and the Pandavas had to bear thirteen years of exile. Duryodhana wants to play that same move again.
Here Duryodhana’s purpose is hidden yet crooked. He wants Yudhishthira alive so that he may beat him again at dice and send the Pandavas to the forest for good, that is, so that he may keep a lasting kingdom by a trick. The moral crookedness is not made simple; this is Duryodhana’s true mind.
The gist: Duryodhana asks not for a killing but for Yudhishthira’s live capture, so that he may beat him again at dice and cast the Pandavas into lasting exile. Drona reads the hidden, twisted design.
Drona’s Vow, and Its Condition
Seeing this crooked purpose, Drona, who knew the truth of the science of gain and was gifted with great intelligence, thought a moment and gave the boon bound within a condition. He said: “If the hero Arjuna does not guard Yudhishthira in battle, then count the eldest Pandava as already yours. As for Partha, the gods and the Asuras together under Indra cannot advance against him in the fight. That is why I cannot do the thing you ask. Arjuna is my pupil, and I was his first teacher in arms. But he is young, richly blessed, and single-minded on his purpose. He has won many weapons from Indra and from Rudra. And you have made him angry. So let Arjuna be drawn out of the battle by whatever means. Once Partha is gone, count king Yudhishthira as already beaten. Best of men, the victory lies in his seizure and not in his death. Even by stratagem may he be taken. That king, given to truth and dharma, I will surely bring under your control this very day, if he stands before me in battle even a moment, provided that Kunti’s son Dhananjaya, tiger among men, is drawn from the field. But while Phalguni is present, O king, Yudhishthira cannot be seized in battle even by the gods and Asuras under Indra.”
When Drona gave his word to take the king under these limits, your foolish sons took it that Yudhishthira was as good as caught. Duryodhana knew the preceptor’s leaning toward the Pandavas. So, to hold Drona fast to his word, he made the plan public, and had Drona’s vow to seize Yudhishthira proclaimed through the whole army.
A key to reading this (a concept): Drona’s vow is not unconditional. It is an “if-then” vow: if Arjuna is drawn far from the field, then Drona will take Yudhishthira alive. On this one condition the whole strategy of the Drona Parva turns. Every Kaurava effort now bends to drawing Arjuna away from Yudhishthira.
Here again Drona’s mind shows itself divided. He sings his pupil Arjuna’s glory openly, as though in his heart he wished the young man would not leave. But bound by his word, he keeps a path for his own dharma by naming the condition. Duryodhana, knowing that very leaning, makes the vow public in order to bind the preceptor, so that he cannot draw back. It is a blend of cunning and distrust both.
The gist: Drona vows that the moment Arjuna is gone he will take Yudhishthira alive; while Arjuna is present it is impossible. Duryodhana proclaims this conditioned vow to the whole army so that the preceptor cannot waver.
Yudhishthira’s Answer, and Arjuna’s Oath
King Yudhishthira soon learned the whole of Drona’s purpose through his spies. Gathering all his brothers and the other kings of his army, he said to Dhananjaya: “Tiger among men, you have heard Drona’s aim. Let measures be taken so that his purpose comes to nothing. It is true that Drona, grinder of foes, has made his vow, but it is under conditions, and that condition, great bowman, rests on you. So today fight near me, that Duryodhana may not have from Drona the fruit of his wish.”
Arjuna answered: “As I can never kill my preceptor, so, O king, I can never give you up. Son of Pandu, I would rather yield my life in battle than fight against my teacher. This son of Dhritarashtra wants to take you captive and win a kingdom by it. In this world he will never have the fruit of that wish. Let the sky with its stars fall, let the earth split into fragments, yet while I live Drona will never seize you. Though Indra of the thunderbolt himself, or Vishnu at the head of the gods, come to his aid in battle, still he will not take you from the field. As long as I live, great king, you need fear nothing from Drona, first though he be of all who bear arms. And I tell you more, O king: my vow is never left unfulfilled. I do not recall ever speaking an untruth. I do not recall ever being beaten. I do not recall ever leaving even a part of a vow undone.”
Then in the Pandava camp conchs, drums, cymbals, and small drums sounded, and the high-souled Pandavas gave many a lion’s roar. The dread twang of their bowstrings and the slap of their palms reached the very heaven. Hearing it, the instruments rang out among the Kaurava divisions as well. Both armies, ordered in their arrays, moved slowly toward each other, eager for battle.
The gist: Learning of the vow from his spies, Yudhishthira asks Arjuna to fight at his side. Arjuna swears that he will neither kill his preceptor nor abandon the king; while he lives, Drona cannot take Yudhishthira.
The First Day of Drona’s Sunlike Might
Then between the Pandavas and the Kurus, and on one side Drona and on the other the Panchalas, such a dreadful fight broke out as makes the hair stand on end. The Srinjaya heroes strove with all their strength, but they could not beat Drona’s army, guarded by Drona himself. And your son’s warriors, skilled at the stroke though they were, could not beat the Pandava army, guarded by Arjuna. The two hosts, shielded by Drona and by Arjuna, looked like two forests in full bloom standing still in the hush of night.
Then Drona of the golden car, blazing with vast splendor like the sun, trampled the Pandava ranks and ranged them at will. In their fear the Pandavas and Srinjayas saw that one swift warrior, on his fast-moving car, as though split into many. The terrible arrows he loosed ran in every direction and struck fear into the host of Pandu’s sons. Drona in that hour looked like the noonday sun, whose brightness a hundred rings of arrows could not cover.
The array too was Drona’s own handiwork. Jayadratha, king of the Sindhus, the lord of the Kalingas, and your mailed son Vikarna took the right wing. Shakuni, with many fine horsemen of the Gandhara people who fought with bright lances, moved forward as their support. Drona set the army in a shakata, a cart-shaped array, while the Pandavas’ array before it was of another kind. When the commander went out to battle, dreadful omens showed themselves, signs that foretold ruin.
Then Dhrishtadyumna, the Panchala prince and generalissimo of the Pandava army, came forward in wrath to check Drona. The clash of Drona and the son of Prishata was a wonder; Sanjaya says he is sure it had no equal. With his keen arrows Drona made a heavy slaughter among the Chedis, the Panchalas, and the Pandavas. The twang of his bowstring and the slap of his palms were heard on every side, and, like the roll of thunder, they filled all hearts with dread. Killing horses, drivers, car-warriors, and elephants, Drona trampled the army, and the Pandavas and Srinjayas, like a herd of lesser beasts set upon by a lion, broke and fled again and again.
At this a warrior named Nila, bright as very fire, his arrows its sparks and his bow its flame, began to burn the Kaurava ranks like a wildfire in dry grass. Ashvatthama, Drona’s son, who had long wished to close with him, smiled and said: “Nila, what do you gain by burning so many common soldiers with your arrow-flames? Fight me alone, and in your wrath strike me.” Nila pierced Ashvatthama with his arrows, but Drona’s son with three broad-headed shafts cut down his bow, his standard, and his umbrella, and then with a bearded arrow struck from his trunk the fine-nosed, earring-decked head of Nila. Seeing the bright Nila fall, the Pandava army trembled in grief, and their great car-warriors thought: “Alas, how will Arjuna, son of Indra, save us from the foe, when he is off at the southern end, cutting down the Samshaptakas and the Narayana force?”
A sub-tale: The story reminds us again and again that Dhrishtadyumna was born for Drona’s slaughter. Both Draupadi and Dhrishtadyumna sprang from the fire-pit of King Drupada’s sacrifice. Drupada had held that rite to avenge an old insult from Drona. This is why Drona has said from the first that he cannot kill the son of Prishata, for fate has already made him the instrument of Drona’s end. And on this very first day it is that same Dhrishtadyumna who comes to stand against the preceptor.
The gist: The moment he takes command, Drona tramples the Pandava army like the noonday sun. Dhrishtadyumna, the very man born for his slaughter, comes forward to check him, and a matchless combat flares between them.
The First Day’s Defeat: Drona’s Vow Frustrated
Many things passed on the field that day. The Samshaptakas challenged Arjuna toward the south, which will be told in full further on, but Arjuna beat them and kept coming back to stay near Yudhishthira. Drona fell on thousands of the Pandava divisions and broke them with his keen arrows, but wherever he tried to reach Yudhishthira, Arjuna’s presence stood in the way. Bhima could not bear the slaughter of the army. He struck Valhika with sixty arrows and Karna with ten. Drona, wishing to kill Bhima, sent many straight, whetted shafts into his very vitals, then twenty-six more whose touch was like fire and which were like serpents of virulent poison. Karna pierced Bhima with twelve arrows, Ashvatthama with seven, and Duryodhana with six. In return Bhima pierced them all: Drona with fifty arrows, Karna with ten, Duryodhana with twelve, and Drona again with eight, and, roaring, he threw himself into the fight.
In that press, where the warriors fought careless of their lives and death was easy to come by, Ajatashatru Yudhishthira sent many warriors to guard Bhima. Led by the two sons of Madri, Nakula and Sahadeva, and by Yuyudhana, that is Satyaki, they came quickly to Bhima’s side, and in their wrath, united, they moved forward to break Drona’s host, guarded as it was by many fine bowmen. Drona met all those great car-warriors without a trace of alarm. Horsemen closed with horsemen, car-warriors with car-warriors; lances met lances, swords met swords, axes met axes. The clash of elephant against elephant made the battle fiercer still. One man fell headlong from an elephant’s back, another from a horse, another, pierced with arrows, from his car. In that grim crush father did not know son, nor son father; the cries “Father! Son! Where are you, friend? Wait! Strike! Bring him!”, with laughter and roars, rang everywhere. The blood of men, horses, and elephants ran together, and the dust settled.
Then the Pandava commander, saying “This is the time,” led the Pandavas against those warriors, and they advanced toward Drona’s car like swans toward a lake. “Seize him,” “Do not let him flee,” “Do not fear,” “Cut him to pieces,” these cries were heard near Drona’s car. Then Drona, Kripa, Karna, Ashvatthama, king Jayadratha, Vinda and Anuvinda of Avanti, and Shalya met those heroes. Just then Jishnu, that is Arjuna, having beaten a great many of the Samshaptakas, came back to where Drona was grinding the Pandava host. Crossing lakes whose water was blood and whose billows and eddies were arrows, having slain the Samshaptakas, Phalguni showed himself there. Light broke from his ape-banner. He scorched the Kurus with thousands of arrows, like the sun that rises at the end of an age. But those who had fallen, those who fled with their backs turned, and those who had no wish to fight, on these Arjuna loosed no arrow, remembering the practice of good warriors.
The sun went to its resting place behind the western hills, and both armies drew off slowly to their camps. Closing that evening, Sanjaya says that Arjuna’s vast prowess had already broken the Kurus, and that because Yudhishthira had been kept safe, Drona’s vow too had failed, so your warriors were counted beaten. Their armor torn, covered with dust, they looked about with anxious eyes. Leaving the field with Drona’s leave, humbled by their foes, they went back, and on the way heard from the mouths of all creatures the endless merits of Phalguni praised, and the friendship of Keshava for Arjuna spoken of. They passed that night like men under a curse, brooding on all that had happened, keeping perfect silence.
A key to reading this (who’s who): Keshava is Krishna, Arjuna’s charioteer and friend. Phalguni is another name of Arjuna, from his birth under the Phalguni star. Valhika is an aged Kuru king, a kinsman of Duryodhana. The Samshaptakas are the warriors who swore to return only after killing Arjuna or to die in the field; they are the center of the next chapter.
The gist: On the first day Arjuna stays near Yudhishthira, so Drona’s vow bears no fruit. At evening the Kauravas go back beaten and silent, hearing the praise of Arjuna and Krishna all the way.
Duryodhana’s Reproach, and Drona’s Second Resolve
Next morning Duryodhana, seeing the prosperity of the foe, in petulance and wrath and deep cheerlessness, said to Drona in the hearing of all the troops: “Best of the twice-born, without doubt you have set us down as men who are only to be destroyed by you. Today you had Yudhishthira within your reach, and you did not seize him. The foe you would seize in battle cannot escape you once you have him in sight, even if he be guarded by the Pandavas aided by the very gods. Gladly you gave me a boon; now you do not act by it. The noble, such as you, never falsify the hopes of one devoted to them.”
At these words of Duryodhana’s, Bharadwaja’s son was much ashamed. Addressing the king, he said: “You should not take me so. I always try to do what pleases you. The three worlds, with the gods, the Asuras, the Gandharvas, the Yakshas, the Nagas, and the Rakshasas, cannot defeat the army guarded by the diadem-decked Arjuna. There where Govinda, the maker of the universe, is, and there where Arjuna is the commander, whose might can avail, save that of the three-eyed Mahadeva, O lord? O king, I tell you truly today, and it will not be otherwise. Today I will kill a mighty car-warrior, one of the foremost heroes of the Pandavas. Today I will form an array that even the gods cannot pierce. But by some means, O king, take Arjuna away from the field. There is nothing of battle that he does not know or cannot do; from many quarters he has gained the whole knowledge of war.”
As Drona said this, the Samshaptakas once more challenged Arjuna to battle and drew him off to the southern side of the field. Then a fight took place between Arjuna and his foes such as had never been seen or heard of. On the other side, the array Drona formed was so dazzling that none could look at it, as none can look at the sun when it climbs to the meridian and scorches all beneath. This was the chakra-vyuha, the circular array, and the charge of breaking it would fall in time on Abhimanyu, the son of Subhadra. But that is the next story.
A sub-tale: The Samshaptakas, a name that means “those who have sworn together,” were the warriors led by Susarman, king of Trigarta, and his brothers, who took a formal oath between fire and kusa grass to return only after killing Arjuna or to die in battle and win a hero’s death. Their one purpose was to draw Arjuna away from the main field, where Yudhishthira stood, so that Drona could carry out his resolve. In this way they became, at the price of their own lives, the instrument of Duryodhana’s strategy.
Here the moral tangle rises once more. Drona is ashamed, yet he does not leave the side of adharma; he only names his limit, that nothing is possible while Arjuna is present. Duryodhana’s reproach, blaming the preceptor’s very affection, pushes him toward a harder resolve. And the oath of the Samshaptakas, a valor in itself, becomes a part of the crooked plan whose final fruit will be the death of a boy, Abhimanyu, surrounded and cut down alone.
The gist: Stung by Duryodhana’s reproach, Drona in shame takes a twofold resolve: to form an array none can pierce and to kill one of the great car-warriors, provided Arjuna is drawn from the field. The Samshaptakas draw Arjuna to the southern flank, and so the way opens for Drona’s array and for the move to take Yudhishthira captive.
Source: The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Drona Parva; in the Gita Press, Gorakhpur tradition.
Basis: The Mahabharata, Vedavyasa (Gita Press, Gorakhpur)