Mahabharata · Karna in Command, and Shalya at the Reins

About 131 min read · 22,246 words

The night after Drona fell lay heavy on the Kaurava camp. Duryodhana and the great chariot-warriors of his host, their hearts crowded with dread, went and sat around Ashwatthama, Drona’s son. Grief had put out their courage like a snuffed flame, and they gathered close to the grandson of Sharadvata’s daughter and sank into sorrow. A few words drawn from the scriptures steadied them for a little while, and when night came the kings withdrew to their own tents. Even there, sons of Kuru, they found no ease. The memory of that vast slaughter kept sleep far from them. Four men in particular did not sleep: Karna the charioteer’s son, King Suyodhana, Dushasana, and Shakuni, the son of Subala, the ruler of Gandhara. Those four sat together through the night in Duryodhana’s tent and turned over in their minds the wrongs they had heaped on the high-souled Pandavas. The day they had ordered Draupadi, sunk in the misery of the dice, dragged into the assembly hall came back to them, and their hearts filled with regret. That one night they passed as though a hundred years were passing.

Vaishampayana’s frame, and Janamejaya’s question

When morning came, they performed the customary rites as the ordinance required. Steadied a little, O Bharata, they gave the order for the troops to be drawn up in array and marched out to battle. First they bound the auspicious threads about Karna’s wrists and made him their commander, the generalissimo who leads the whole army, and they had many of the best brahmanas pray for victory with gifts of curds, clarified butter, unbroken rice, coins of gold, cattle, jewels, and costly robes, while bards and heralds sang hymns of triumph.

On the other side, O king, the Pandavas too finished their morning rites and issued from their camp resolved on battle. Then a fight broke out between the Kurus and the Pandavas that made the hair stand on end, each side hungry to break the other. Vaishampayana said that the war fought during Karna’s command was terrible beyond telling and lasted two days. In the end Vrisha, which is one of Karna’s names, after cutting down enemies past counting, was himself struck down by Arjuna in full sight of the sons of Dhritarashtra. Then Sanjaya went to Hastinapura and told Dhritarashtra everything that had happened at Kurujangala.

Janamejaya asked, “The old king Dhritarashtra, son of Ambika, had already been broken with grief on hearing of the fall of Bhishma and of that other mighty chariot-warrior, Drona. How, best of brahmanas, did he keep his life on hearing of the death of Karna, that well-wisher of Duryodhana? Karna, on whom the king had rested the whole hope of his sons’ victory, had fallen, and still the king did not lay down his life. It seems to me that giving up one’s life, even in the depths of grief, is very hard for a man. I am not satisfied hearing the high deeds of my forefathers. Tell me all of it in full, exactly as it happened.”

A key to reading this (lineage and kinship): Karna is called by many names in this book. Sutaputra and Radheya (son of Radha), because he was raised by the charioteer Adhiratha and his wife Radha; Vaikartana, the son of Vikartana (Vikartana is a name of the Sun, and Karna is held to be born of a portion of the Sun); and Vrisha. Ashwatthama is the son of Drona, and Shalya is the king of Madra, who, as the brother of Madri (mother of Nakula and Sahadeva), is also a maternal uncle of those two Pandavas.

The gist: Grieving over Drona’s death, Duryodhana’s side made Karna their commander. Sanjaya is telling this whole story to Dhritarashtra, and Janamejaya wants to hear the full account from Vaishampayana.

Sanjaya returns to Hastinapura, and Dhritarashtra’s lament

Vaishampayana said, “When Karna had fallen, O king, Sanjaya, the son of Gavalgana, set out that same night for Nagapura, riding horses that rivaled the wind. Reaching Hastinapura with a heart full of anxiety, he went into Dhritarashtra’s palace, which no longer teemed with kinsmen and friends. Seeing the king drained of all energy by grief, he joined his hands and bowed his head to the king’s feet in worship. Then, drawing a heavy breath, he began, ‘I am Sanjaya, lord of the Earth. Are you well? I hope that, fallen into this ruin through your own faults, you have not lost your senses. Counsel for your good was given to you by Vidura, by Ganga’s son Bhishma, and by Keshava. I hope it gives you no pain now to remember how you cast it aside. In the assembly, Rama and Narada and Kanwa and others also spoke to you for your good. I hope it gives you no pain now to remember how you rejected them.’”

The king, sick with grief, drew a long, hot breath and answered. Dhritarashtra said, “Hearing, Sanjaya, of the fall of the heroic son of Ganga, that master of every celestial weapon, and of the fall of Drona, foremost of all bowmen, my heart feels great pain. That hero born of the Vasus themselves, who slew ten thousand mailed chariot-warriors every day, to whom the son of Bhrigu had given the highest weapons, who in his boyhood was trained in the bow by Rama, even he, Bhishma, was killed by Yajnasena’s son Shikhandi, guarded by the Pandavas. My heart is greatly pained at this. And Drona, that great bowman of sure aim, by whose grace the sons of Kunti and many other kings became maharathas, cut down by Dhrishtadyumna: hearing of it, my heart is pained beyond bearing.”

Sanjaya said, “O sire, hearing all that has come upon the Kauravas through your own fault, you should feel no anguish. A wise man never grieves at what Destiny brings. Destiny cannot be conquered, and so a man’s purposes may or may not be reached. A wise man therefore does not grieve at the gain or loss of the things he holds dear.”

Dhritarashtra said, “I do not feel great grief, Sanjaya. I take all of this to be the fruit of Destiny. Tell me whatever you wish to tell.”

Sanjaya said, “When the great bowman Drona fell, your sons, those mighty chariot-warriors, went pale and lost their wits. Weapons still in their hands, O king, they hung their heads. Without looking at one another they stood in silence. Seeing them so stricken, your troops too, O Bharata, were troubled with grief and gazed emptily up at the sky. When they saw Drona slain, the blood-stained weapons fell from the hands of many. Then King Duryodhana, seeing that army of yours standing as if paralyzed and lifeless, spoke to it.”

Duryodhana said, “It was on the strength of this army that I called the Pandavas out to battle. Drona has fallen, and the moment looks bleak, yet warriors who fight die fighting. A man engaged in battle wins either victory or death. What is there to wonder at? Turn your faces to the enemy on every side and fight. Now look at Karna, the great bowman, the son of Vaikartana, who will range this field with his celestial weapons. It was for fear of him that Kunti’s son Dhananjaya has always turned his back, like a young deer at the sight of a lion. It was Karna who, fighting only by the ordinary human method, brought Bhimasena, strong as ten thousand elephants, to grief. It was Karna who with his unfailing shakti weapon killed Ghatotkacha, master of a thousand illusions and skilled in celestial arms. Behold today the endless might in the arms of that wise, unerring marksman.”

Sanjaya went on, “Saying this, O sinless king, your son Duryodhana, with his brothers, made Karna the commander. Given the command, that terrible chariot-warrior raised loud lion-roars and closed with the enemy. He made a huge slaughter among the Srinjayas, the Panchalas, the Kekayas, and the Videhas. From his bow came ranks of arrows past counting, each one’s feathers touching the next, like swarms of bees. Having tormented the Panchalas and the Pandavas and killed warriors by the thousand, in the end he was slain by Arjuna.”

The moment he heard this, O king, Dhritarashtra, son of Ambika, reached the far edge of grief and gave up his son Suyodhana too for dead. Utterly unstrung, he dropped to the ground like an elephant that has lost its senses. The women of the palace raised a wailing so loud it seemed to fill the whole earth. Gandhari and the other women came to the king and fell fainting to the floor. Then Sanjaya comforted the grief-stricken women, and Vidura sprinkled water and revived the king, whose eyes were the eyes of knowledge, since for a blind man knowledge is sight. Slowly returning to his senses, and cursing his own judgment and the judgment of Shakuni, the son of Subala, the king gathered his mind and questioned his charioteer Sanjaya once more.

Dhritarashtra asked, “Sanjaya, has my son Duryodhana, who has always longed for victory, given up hope of success and gone to the realm of Yama? Tell me the truth, even if you must say it twice.” Then Sanjaya said, “O king, the great chariot-warrior Vaikartana has been slain, and with him his sons, his brothers, and other warriors of the charioteer caste. Dushasana too has been killed by Bhima, the son of Pandu, and in his fury Bhima drank his blood on the field.”

A key to reading this (how the story is built): Notice Vyasa’s method of telling the ending first. Sanjaya gives Dhritarashtra the outcome of the Karna Parva (the deaths of Karna and Dushasana) at the very start, and then, when Dhritarashtra asks, goes back and tells the whole thing in order. That is why this chapter opens with lament and only afterward describes the battle.

The gist: Sanjaya returns to Hastinapura and reports Karna’s death. Dhritarashtra faints, laments, and asks to hear the roll of the warriors still living and those slain.

The count of the dead and the living

Shaken, Dhritarashtra said, “Sanjaya, even if my short-sighted son’s bad counsel is what got Karna killed, this news splits the very core of my heart. I have this ocean of grief to cross. So tell me: among the Kurus and the Pandavas, who is alive and who has been slain?”

Sanjaya said, “Bhishma, son of Shantanu, unconquerable in strength and courage, fell on the tenth day after killing many Srinjayas and Panchalas. Drona of the golden chariot, that unconquerable great bowman, was slain after destroying the Panchala host. After Bhishma and Drona were gone, Vaikartana’s son Karna fell, having cut down half the army that remained. Your brave son Vikarna, though stripped of horse and weapons, remembered a kshatriya’s duty and stood his ground before the enemy, and Bhimasena, recalling Duryodhana’s many insults and his own vow, killed him. The two princes of Avanti, Vinda and Anuvinda, did deeds hard past belief and went to Yama’s realm. Jayadratha, lord of ten kingdoms with Sindhu at their head, ever obedient to you, was slain by Arjuna after Arjuna broke through eleven akshauhinis to reach him.”

A sub-tale: Sanjaya’s long roll of the dead is not a bare list of names. With each name comes the who and the why of the killing, and in that lies the moral knot of the Mahabharata. Vrishasena, Karna’s son, was killed by Arjuna in memory of the death of his own son Abhimanyu, and killed right in front of Karna. In the same way Sahadeva, son of Madri, killed his own cousin Rukmaratha, the son of Shalya. Here enmity and blood-kinship are wound together.

Sanjaya named many more: Sudakshina, the king of the Kosalas, Chitrasena your son, Bhagadatta, Bhurishrava, the son of Somadatta, Shrutayu, Bahlika your grandsire, Jayatsena the son of Jarasandha, Durmukha and Dussaha (by the mace of your son’s foe, Bhima), Durmarshana, Durvishaha, Durjaya, and the kings of Kalinga and Vrishaka. Your two brothers-in-law, Vrishaka and Achala, were killed by Savyasachi, Arjuna, for your very sake. The Pauravas, two thousand warriors of the Vasatis, the Surasenas, the Abhishahas, the Shivis, the Kalingas, and the cowherd Narayanas raised in Gokula, all fell by the hands of Savyasachi. Radha’s son’s brothers of the charioteer caste, the Kekayas, the Malavas, the Madrakas, the Dravidas, the Yaudheyas, and many peoples of the east and west and north and south, all went down before Arjuna.

“As Mahendra slew Vritra, as Rama slew Ravana, as Krishna slew Naraka and Mura, as Rama of the Bhrigus slew Kartavirya, as Skanda slew Mahisha and Rudra slew Andhaka, so did Arjuna, single-handed in duel, slay Karna together with all his kin, that Karna on whom the sons of Dhritarashtra had rested their hope of victory and who was the great cause of the feud with the Pandavas. O king, the ruin that your well-wishing friends warned you of again and again has now arrived. With your own hands, meaning to help your greedy sons, you set these disasters on their heads, and now the fruit is showing itself.”

Then Dhritarashtra asked who among the Pandavas had been killed. Sanjaya answered: Bhishma had slain many heroes of Kuntibhoja, warriors of the Narayana and Valabhadra hosts, and Satyajit; Drona had slain many Panchala bowmen, Virata and Drupada, both old kings, Manimat, Dandadhara, Anshuman the Bhoja king, and Arjuna’s maternal uncles Purujit and Kuntibhoja. Then came the piteous story that Abhimanyu, who though a boy was the equal of Arjuna or Keshava or Baladeva, was surrounded by six great chariot-warriors and killed, and even when his chariot was gone he clung to a kshatriya’s duty until at last he was slain by the son of Dushasana.

A key to reading this (the number in modern terms): “Eleven akshauhinis” means eleven full armies. One akshauhini, by tradition, held about twenty-one thousand chariots, as many elephants, more than sixty thousand horsemen, and more than a hundred thousand foot soldiers, so roughly two hundred and fifty thousand fighters in all. To say Arjuna “killed Jayadratha after defeating eleven akshauhinis” is to say he cut through an enormous mass of armies to reach a single target, an extraordinary feat.

In the roll of the living, Sanjaya said that these still held the field: Ashwatthama, Drona’s son, to whom Drona had given all four kinds of celestial weapons; Kritavarma, son of Hridika, best of the Satvatas, king of the Bhojas; Shalya, son of Artayana, “who abandoned his own nephews the Pandavas to keep his word true, and who vowed before Yudhishthira that he would humble Karna’s pride in battle”; Shakuni, king of Gandhara, with his army; Kripa, son of Sharadvata, of Gautama’s line; the son of the Kekaya king; your sons Purumitra and Duryodhana himself; and Karna’s sons Satyasandha and two others.

Dhritarashtra said, “You have counted the living and the dead on both sides. From this I see plainly which way victory will go.” Saying this, and knowing that only a small remnant of his army was left, the king’s heart broke with grief and he fainted. Recovering a little, he said, “Wait a moment, my son. Hearing this dreadful blow, my heart is unstrung, my senses are dulled, my limbs turn to stone.” And with that he fell to the ground again.

A key to reading this (a signal of what is coming): Notice that within this very lament Dhritarashtra asks, “How did that great chariot-warrior Shalya come to drive Karna’s chariot?” That question points toward the event at the end of this chapter, where Karna, made commander, asks Shalya to hold his reins, and Shalya fills with rage. Vyasa first hints at the outcome and then goes back to tell its cause.

The gist: Sanjaya recites the full roll of the chief warriors dead and living on both sides. Among the living, Shalya stands out: the Pandavas’ maternal uncle, yet fighting on the Kaurava side, and carrying an inner vow to humble Karna’s pride.

Dhritarashtra’s long grief for Karna

To hear of Karna’s death seemed as impossible as Mount Meru falling, or the mind of Shukra growing dim, or the sun dropping out of the sky, and Dhritarashtra brooded on it a long while before he could believe his army was finished. Breathing in hisses like a snake, he began to lament.

Dhritarashtra said, “Sanjaya, the heroic son of Adhiratha had the strength of a lion and an elephant. His neck was thick as a bull’s, and his gait and his gaze and his voice were a bull’s as well. Hard as the thunderbolt, that young man would not budge from a fight, as one bull will not give way to another, even if Indra himself came against him. At the twang of his bow and the hiss of his arrow-storm, men and horses and chariots and elephants fled the field. It was on the strength of that friend that Duryodhana took up his quarrel with the Pandavas. How then was Karna, that best of men, killed by force in battle at the hands of Partha?”

“As Indra is highest among the gods, Karna was highest among men. In all three worlds we have not heard of a third to match those two. Among horses Uchchaihshravas, among yakshas Vaishravana, among gods Indra, and among those who strike, Karna stood foremost. It was for Duryodhana’s greatness that he conquered the whole earth. The king of Magadha made Karna his ally, and, sparing only the Kauravas and the Yadavas, called out every other kshatriya to war. And now Karna has been killed in single combat by Savyasachi. Hearing it, I sink like a broken boat in an ocean of grief. When I do not die even of such sorrow, my heart must be made of something harder than the thunderbolt.”

Sanjaya said, “The world holds you the equal of Yayati, son of Nahusha, in beauty, birth, fame, penance, and learning. In learning, O king, you are like some great sage. Take patience. Do not let grief master you.”

Dhritarashtra said, “It seems to me that Destiny is supreme and a man’s effort useless, since even Karna, firm as a sala tree, has been killed. He cut down Yudhishthira’s army and the great chariot-warriors of the Panchalas, he scorched the very directions with his arrow-storm, and, as Indra of the thunderbolt paralyzes the asuras, he paralyzed the sons of Pritha. How did such a warrior fall to the ground at the enemy’s hands like a great tree torn up by a storm? Sanjaya, Karna’s death seems to me flatly unbelievable. Surely this heart of mine is made of the very essence of the thunderbolt, that it does not break into a thousand pieces now that Karna has fallen.”

The king’s lament grew deeper still. He recalled that Karna had given Indra his own earrings in exchange for that celestial shakti weapon; that he had carried a divine, serpent-mouthed arrow; that he had won the brahmastra from the son of Jamadagni, Parashurama; that he had cut Abhimanyu’s bow, had left Bhimasena chariotless and laughed at him, had left Sahadeva and Nakula weaponless yet spared them out of pity and a thought for dharma, and had killed Ghatotkacha with the weapon of Shakra. Dhritarashtra said that a warrior like that could have been killed for one reason only: that his chariot sank, or his bow broke, or his weapons ran out.

A sub-tale: Even in his own lament Dhritarashtra does not hide the moral tangle of the Mahabharata. He remembers that it was on the strength of Karna’s valor that Duryodhana had Draupadi called a slave in the full assembly, and that Karna himself had spoken cruel words to the princess of Panchala, telling her, “Krishna, all your husbands are hollow as sesame with no seed inside; go find yourself another husband.” The king does not say Karna was blameless. He remembers Karna’s valor and Karna’s wrongs together. This is Vyasa’s way, in which even heroes are not free of fault.

The king recalled too that Bhishma, lying on his bed of arrows, had counseled Duryodhana, “My son, make peace with the Pandavas. Let the feud end here with me. Enjoy the earth in comfort together with your brothers.” But the foolish Duryodhana did not take that good advice, and now he must surely be repenting it. Dhritarashtra called himself a bird with its wings cut. “As boys at play catch a bird and clip its wings and let it go laughing, and it cannot fly, so I have become: without kinsmen, without friends, overpowered by enemies.”

Then the king in his anguish asked many things. Did my son Dushasana die fleeing the field, his manhood gone, killed in cowardice? What did Duryodhana say when Karna was killed? What did he say at the fall of Vrishasena and Durmarshana? What did Shakuni say, who took such delight in his crooked dicing? What did Kritavarma, Ashwatthama, and Kripa say? And above all, “The strong leader of the Madra warriors, the king of Madra, the great bowman of the Sauvira line, Shalya, ornament of assemblies, who at that hour was set to the task of driving the chariot, what did he say when he saw Vaikartana killed?”

The gist: Dhritarashtra recalls Karna’s valor at length, hides none of his wrongs, and at last asks how Shalya came to drive Karna’s chariot, showing how eagerly he wants to understand it.

Karna consecrated as commander

Sanjaya went back in his telling. After Drona had fallen and Ashwatthama’s Narayana weapon had spent itself in vain, the Kaurava army broke and ran, and the sons of Pritha, drawing up their forces, held the field with their brothers. Your son Duryodhana rallied the fleeing troops with great steadiness, and when evening came he led the armies back. In camp the Kauravas took counsel on what was best to do. Then Duryodhana spoke sweet words to those great bowmen: “Wise men, tell me your minds without delay. What ought to be done now, and what matters even more than that?”

Then Ashwatthama, skilled in speech and wise, said, “Exertion, opportunity, skill, and policy are the four means by which the learned accomplish all their aims, though these too depend on Destiny. The godlike great chariot-warriors of our side have been killed, and still we should not despair of victory. If these four means are rightly used, even Destiny may turn to our side. So, O Bharata, let us make Karna, who is full of every virtue and a foremost man, the commander of our army. With Karna as commander we will crush our enemies. He is mighty, he is brave, he is skilled in weapons, and he is invincible in battle. Hard to withstand as Yama himself, he is fully able to defeat our foes.”

Hearing this, Duryodhana rested great hope on Karna. With affection and honor he spoke to him words that were true and meant for his good: “Karna, I know your prowess, and I know the deep friendship you bear me. Even so, mighty-armed one, I will speak what I am certain is for my own good. You are wise beyond measure and you are my chief refuge. My two commanders, Bhishma and Drona, both greater than atirathas, have been killed. You, who are greater still than they were, become my commander. Those two great bowmen were old, and both were partial to Dhananjaya. Even so, Radheya, it was on your word that I honored them. Bhishma held the Pandavas back for ten days out of the bond of kinship. You had laid down your own weapons, and only then did Phalguna put Shikhandi in front and kill Bhishma. It was on your word too that Drona was made commander, and he as well spared the sons of Pritha out of the bond of teacher and pupil. Think as I may, I see no other warrior your equal. You alone today are able to win us the victory. So, like a commander, consecrate yourself to the commander’s post, and take up this army of Dhritarashtra as the god Skanda took up the host of the gods.”

The hope grew firm in Duryodhana’s heart that where Bhishma and Drona had been killed, Karna would defeat the Pandavas. He said to Karna, “Son of a charioteer, Partha does not even wish to stand and fight before you.” Karna answered, “Son of Gandhari, I have told you before that I will conquer all the Pandavas, their sons, and Janardana besides. I will be your commander, of that there is no doubt. Set your mind at ease. Count the Pandavas already beaten.”

Then Duryodhana rose with all the kings around him, as Indra of the hundred sacrifices rises with the gods to honor Skanda. The kings consecrated Karna to the commander’s post as the rite required. They gathered jars of gold and clay filled with water and sanctified with mantras; ivory, rhinoceros horn, and the horns of bulls; vessels set with jewels; fragrant herbs; and much else besides. Seated on a stool of udumbara wood spread with silk, Karna was anointed by the scriptural rule. Brahmanas, kshatriyas, vaishyas, and honored shudras sang the praises of that high-souled man. Once anointed, Karna gave nishkas and cattle and other wealth and took the blessings of many brahmanas. Consecrated, he shone like a second sun.

A key to reading this (terms): An atiratha is a warrior who can fight many chariot-warriors alone, that is, a maharatha of the highest rank. A nishka is a gold coin or gold ornament given in charity. Udumbara is the cluster fig tree, whose wood was held auspicious for the seat used in a consecration.

The gist: On Ashwatthama’s suggestion and Duryodhana’s urging, Karna is consecrated commander with full rites. Karna gives a firm promise of victory over the Pandavas.

Karna’s makara array, and the second day’s battle begins

The moment he was made commander, Karna gave the order to draw up the army at sunrise. Your sons arrayed the troops to the sound of joyful instruments. Dawn had barely broken when the cry “Form the array, form the array” rose loud enough to touch the sky, and elephants, chariots, horses, and foot began to take their places. Then Karna, holding a bow with a golden back, on a chariot bright as the risen sun, adorned with many banners and a white flag, drawn by horses the color of the kraunca bird, appeared on the field. Blowing his conch, he sent the Kaurava army forward and formed the makara array.

In that makara array Karna himself stood at the tip of the snout. The two eyes were Shakuni and the great chariot-warrior Uluka; the head was Ashwatthama, Drona’s son; the neck was his own brothers; the middle, with a vast force, was Duryodhana. The left foot was Kritavarma with the Narayana troops and the cowherds; the right foot was Kripa, son of Gautama, ringed by the Trigartas and the southerners. The left hind leg was Shalya with the great army of Madra; the right hind leg was Sushena, ringed by a thousand chariots and three hundred elephants. The tail was the two royal brothers Chitra and Chitrasena.

When Karna had come forward like this, King Yudhishthira said to Arjuna, “Partha, look, this army of Dhritarashtra has been arrayed by Karna. It has lost its finest warriors; those who remain are feeble as straw. Only one great bowman, the charioteer’s son, shines in it. He cannot be beaten by the gods, the asuras, or the gandharvas of all three worlds. Mighty-armed one, if you kill him today, victory is yours, and the thorn that has pricked my heart for twelve years will be drawn out. Knowing this, form whatever array you think best.” Then Arjuna formed a counter-array shaped like a half-moon. On the left was Bhimasena, on the right Dhrishtadyumna, in the center the king and Dhananjaya; behind Yudhishthira were Nakula and Sahadeva; and the two Panchala princes Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas became the guards of Arjuna’s chariot wheels.

Conches, kettledrums, cymbals, and war-drums sounded on both sides, and the lion-roars of heroes rang out. The loss of Drona weighed on no one now, for the great bowman Karna stood in his armor at the mouth of the array. Then began that clash of men, elephants, horses, and chariots, each straining to destroy the other. The two armies met until they seemed to dance in the joy of it. Heads were cut so fast that the earth was carpeted with lion-like faces; long arms, hacked off and still bright with weapons and armbands, fell to the ground like five-hooded serpents killed by Garuda.

A key to reading this (a concept): A makara array is a battle formation shaped like a makara (a crocodile or great sea-creature), with picked warriors set at the snout, the eyes, the head, the neck, the feet, and the tail. Every such array had a purpose: to hold the pressure and the defense of the army organized into one fixed shape.

A round of single combats: Bhima, Satyaki, and the rest

At the start there was an elephant-fight between Bhimasena and Kshemadhurti, king of the Kulutas. Mounted on their elephants, the two pierced each other with lances and arrows. Kshemadhurti drove a lance into Bhima’s chest, but Bhima, blazing with anger, held firm. In the end Bhima’s elephant fell, and he leaped down to stand on the ground, crushed the enemy’s elephant with his mace, and then struck down Kshemadhurti too as he raised his weapon. With their king killed, the Kuluta army broke and ran.

Meanwhile Karna, with his straight arrows, began cutting down the Pandava army, and the Pandava chariot-warriors, right in front of Karna, began killing Duryodhana’s men. Nakula charged at Karna; Bhimasena closed with Ashwatthama; Satyaki checked the Kekaya princes Vinda and Anuvinda; King Chitrasena fought Shrutakarma, and Prativindhya fought Chitra; Duryodhana fought Yudhishthira; Dhananjaya fought the samshaptakas; Dhrishtadyumna fought Kripa; Shikhandi fought Kritavarma; Shrutakirti fought Shalya; and Sahadeva fought your son Dushasana.

The Kekaya brothers Vinda and Anuvinda drove arrows into Satyaki’s chest, but Satyaki, grandson of Shini, smiling, held them off with a storm of arrows on every side. Their bows were cut, and the fight went on with swords and shields marked with a hundred moons. In the end Satyaki cut off Anuvinda’s head, and then, as Vinda fought on in grief for his brother, killed him too and put the Kekaya army to flight. In the same way Shrutakarma cut off Chitrasena’s head, and Prativindhya cut off Chitra’s.

The duel of Bhimasena and Ashwatthama was terrible past telling. Each struck the other on the head with arrows, and neither gave way. The siddhas in the sky said, “This is the highest of all combats; no other fight equals even a sixteenth part of it. This brahmana, Ashwatthama, and this kshatriya, Bhima, are both learned, both bold, both of fierce valor.” At last, struck at the same moment by thunderbolt-like arrows loosed together, both fell fainting behind their chariots, and their charioteers carried them from the field.

A key to reading this (a concept): The samshaptakas were warriors who had sworn that they would return only after killing Arjuna, or else fall in battle and win a hero’s death, warriors of the “kill or be killed” oath. That is why they hemmed Arjuna in again and again, tangling him in a corner of the field so he could not turn his attention to the main body of the Kaurava army.

The gist: Once Karna took command the battle broke into many single combats. Satyaki kills the Kekaya brothers, Shrutakarma and Prativindhya kill Chitrasena and Chitra, and the evenly matched duel of Bhima and Ashwatthama ends with both men swooning.

Arjuna and the samshaptakas, and the clash with Ashwatthama

Elsewhere Arjuna drove into the samshaptaka host and threw it into confusion like a storm churning the sea. With broad-headed arrows he cut off the heads of heroes until the earth seemed spread with stalkless lotuses. Then Ashwatthama challenged Arjuna and Krishna: “Hero, if you count me your guest, give me today the hospitality of battle with a full heart.” Arjuna took it for an honor and asked Krishna, “Madhava, killing the samshaptakas is my duty, yet Drona’s son is calling me. Which shall I do first?” Krishna took Arjuna to Ashwatthama, as the wind carries Indra to a sacrifice.

Krishna said to Ashwatthama, “Ashwatthama, be calm, waste no moment, strike and endure. The quarrels of brahmanas are subtle, but the quarrels of kshatriyas end in something you can see, victory or defeat. The hospitality you ask of Partha in your folly, take it now by fighting with a cool mind.” Then a fierce arrow-battle broke out between them. Ashwatthama loosed arrows by thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, as if arrows were bursting from his limbs, his armor, his chariot, and his flag. Arjuna cut each arrow into three pieces and scattered that fog like the sun.

At last Arjuna drove a deep arrow between Ashwatthama’s brows, and from both sides the arrows flew as if two suns had risen. Arjuna’s arrows so wounded Ashwatthama that his horses carried him far from the fight. Knowing that victory always went with Krishna, best of the Vrishnis, and with Dhananjaya, and having nearly spent his weapons, the dejected Ashwatthama withdrew into Karna’s army. Then Krishna and Arjuna turned once more toward the samshaptakas.

Dandadhara, Danda, and the valor of Pandya

To the north, Dandadhara, king of Magadha, was cutting down the Pandava army from his elephant. At Krishna’s word Arjuna killed him first, striking off both his arms and his head and bringing down his elephant as well. Then Danda, Dandadhara’s brother, on his white elephant, was killed by Arjuna in the same way. The severed arms of the two brothers, smeared with sandal and bright with armbands, fell to the ground like beautiful serpents sliding from a mountain peak.

Then Krishna showed Arjuna the field, where golden-backed bows, waist-belts, quivers, armbands, bracelets, crowns, and coats of mail lay scattered on every side. He said, “Partha, it is for Duryodhana’s sake alone that this dreadful slaughter of the Bharatas and the other kings of the earth is going on.” As they turned back, they saw the fierce valor of the Pandya king, Malayadhwaja, who was killing his enemies like Yama himself. When Dhritarashtra asked to hear more of Pandya’s prowess, Sanjaya told him that Pandya held himself greater than Bhishma, Drona, Karna, Arjuna, and Vasudeva, and thought no king his equal.

Pandya was cutting down Karna’s army when Ashwatthama came fearlessly before him. Praising Pandya in sweet words, Ashwatthama called him to a duel: “King, your birth is high and your learning great. You look the equal of Indra. Except for me, I see no worthy opponent for you.” Then a fierce arrow-battle broke out. Pandya cut Ashwatthama’s horses, his bowstring, and his flag. Once, mounted on an elephant, Pandya hurled a lance crying “You are killed, you are killed,” and shattered Ashwatthama’s jewel-set crown.

Then Ashwatthama blazed with anger like a serpent, took fourteen arrows, and with five cut off the elephant’s four legs and its trunk, with three the king’s two arms and his head, and with six killed the six great chariot-warriors who followed behind Pandya. The king’s arms, smeared with sandal and set with gold and gems, writhed on the ground like serpents killed by Garuda, and his face, round as the full moon, shone amid two bright stars like the moon between them. Then your son Duryodhana came with his brothers and honored Ashwatthama, that master of the whole science of arms, with great respect.

A sub-tale: Pandya’s character shines only for a little while in the Mahabharata, yet Sanjaya does not hide his arrogance. He held himself greater than Krishna and Arjuna. Even so, his death is a sad one, for he was a hero and was churning Karna’s army single-handed. Here too the story does not make one side simply good or the other simply bad; arrogant though he was, Pandya’s valor was real.

Karna and Nakula’s duel, and the memory of Kunti’s word

Nakula was tearing the Kaurava army to pieces when Karna angrily stopped him. Nakula said, smiling, “After a long time, by the grace of the gods, I am looking at you, and you have become the object of my sight as well. You are the very root of all these evils, of this feud, of this strife. Through your faults the Kauravas are wearing themselves away in collision with one another. Killing you today, I will count myself fulfilled.” Karna answered as befits a king and a bowman: “Hero, strike. We wish to see your manhood. Heroes do not swell their talk in battle; they fight by their strength. Fight with all your power; I will crush your pride.”

Then a fierce arrow-battle followed. Again and again each cut the other’s bow and took up a new one. In the end Karna cut away Nakula’s horses, charioteer, chariot, flag, mace, sword, and hundred-mooned shield, all of it. Weaponless, Nakula stood holding a spiked mace, and Karna cut that away too. Seeing his enemy unarmed, Karna struck at him with straight arrows, but took care not to wound him deeply. At last Nakula, unstrung, turned to flee, and Karna, laughing, slipped his bow around Nakula’s neck.

Then Karna said, “The words you spoke were empty. Now, wounded so often by me, can you say them again in your joy? Son of Pandu, do not fight the Kurus, who are stronger than you. Young man, fight warriors your own equal, and feel no shame in that. Son of Madri, go home, or go to where Krishna and Phalguna are.” With this Karna let Nakula go. That hero, who knew dharma, did not kill Nakula, who had come into the mouth of death. Remembering the words of Kunti, O king, Karna let Nakula pass. Ashamed, Nakula went off toward Yudhishthira’s chariot.

A sub-tale: The mention of “the words of Kunti” points toward one of the deep, hidden stories of the Mahabharata. Before the war Kunti had gone to Karna and told him that he was her firstborn son. Karna had then given his word that he would kill none of the other four Pandavas (Yudhishthira, Bhima, Nakula, Sahadeva) but Arjuna, so that Kunti would always have five living sons. That is why Karna spared Nakula, and earlier Sahadeva as well, even when the chance to kill them came. It is the tangled compassion of Karna’s character, bound, though he is their enemy, by his word and by a secret blood-tie.

After this Karna fell on the Panchalas and made a great slaughter at midday. Panchala chariots without warriors, without charioteers, their wheels broken, were seen falling back from the field, and scorched elephants wandered loose. The Srinjayas flung themselves on Karna as moths on a burning fire, and were killed. The rest of the Panchalas fled, and Karna followed, raining arrows on their backs.

The gist: Karna beats Nakula, and yet, because of the word he gave Kunti, lets him live. This moment reveals the moral depth of Karna’s character and the compassion he hides.

More duels, and the day-long carnage

Yuyutsu beat Uluka, and Uluka beat Yuyutsu; in the end Uluka killed Yuyutsu’s horses and charioteer and forced him to flee on another chariot. Shrutakarma and Shatanika left each other chariotless. The duel of Shakuni and Sahadeva’s son Sutasoma was a striking one, where Sutasoma, chariotless, stood on the ground and showed fourteen kinds of sword-play, and even when his sword was cut he flung the broken half and cut Shakuni’s bow.

Kripa so stunned Dhrishtadyumna that Dhrishtadyumna’s charioteer counseled taking him out of the fight and carrying him to Bhima and Arjuna, since Kripa was blazing with fury over the killing of Drona. Dhrishtadyumna agreed: “My mind is going dull, my body is trembling. Charioteer, turn aside from that brahmana and take me to Arjuna or Bhimasena.” So Kripa drove Dhrishtadyumna from the field.

Kritavarma, for the sake of the killing of Bhishma, held off Shikhandi, and after a fierce fight stunned him with one violent arrow, so that his charioteer carried him from the field. Arjuna cut down the Trigartas, the Shivis, the Salvas, the samshaptakas, and the Narayana host. Satyasena drove a lance into Krishna’s left arm, so that the goad and the reins dropped from Krishna’s hands. Seeing this, Arjuna in his fury cut off the heads of Satyasena, Chitravarma, and Mitrasena, and with the aindra weapon killed samshaptakas by the thousand. Then the field was heaped with chariots, flags, armor, and crowned severed heads, and the ground became impassable with mud of blood.

Elsewhere Duryodhana and Yudhishthira fought. Yudhishthira cut away Duryodhana’s horses, charioteer, flag, bow, and sword, and left him chariotless. Karna, Ashwatthama, and Kripa rushed to save the cornered Duryodhana. Then the two, Duryodhana and Yudhishthira, closed again. Yudhishthira drove a fierce lance through Duryodhana’s chest, and Duryodhana dropped fainting onto his chariot. Then Bhima, remembering his own vow, said to Yudhishthira, “King, he must not die at your hands.” At this Yudhishthira held back from the final blow.

A sub-tale: Bhima’s “he must not die at your hands” is no accident. In the full assembly hall Bhima had vowed that he himself, with his mace, would kill Duryodhana by striking the same thigh Duryodhana had gestured to when he beckoned Draupadi to sit on it. So Duryodhana’s death at Yudhishthira’s hands would make Bhima’s vow empty. Here Yudhishthira the righteous king honors his younger brother’s vow and gives up the chance of victory, a fine knot of dharma and brotherly faith.

Then, with Karna at their head, the Kaurava army returned, and a fierce fight followed. The Kauravas charged Satyaki, but Karna, the son of the Sun, covered Satyaki with arrows. At last Arjuna and Krishna, after their daily worship and their reverence to the lord Bhava, Shiva, fell on the Kaurava army. Arjuna left Duryodhana chariotless, cut the bows of Ashwatthama, Kripa, Kritavarma, and Dushasana, and then bore down on Radheya, Karna. Karna, leaving Satyaki, pierced Arjuna and Krishna with arrows, and then all the Pandava heroes (Yudhamanyu, Shikhandi, the sons of Draupadi, Uttamaujas, Yuyutsu, the twins, Dhrishtadyumna, Chekitana, and Yudhishthira) surrounded Karna on every side and rained weapons on him with harsh words. But Karna cut apart that storm of weapons and scattered his attackers like trees torn up by a gale.

Then Arjuna, smiling, made Karna’s weapons useless with his own and blotted out the sky, the earth, and the directions with a storm of arrows. His shafts came down like maces, like shataghnis, like thunderbolts, and the Kaurava army wandered wailing with its eyes shut. By now the sun had reached the western hills. With dust and darkness making it hard to see, and in fear of a night battle, the Kaurava great chariot-warriors drew back from the field. At the close of the day the Pandavas too, glad of their success, praising Achyuta and Arjuna and mocking their enemies with their instruments, returned to their camp.

A key to reading this (terms): A shataghni was a kind of ancient weapon whose name means “the slayer of a hundred,” probably a heavy club or missile studded with spikes or wheels. Achyuta is a name of Krishna meaning “he who never slips from his place,” that is, the imperishable.

The gist: Under Karna’s command the day passes in fierce fighting. The Pandava side has the upper hand; Duryodhana is left chariotless, and with sunset the Kauravas withdraw from the field.

Karna’s request for Shalya at the reins

That night the wounded, disheartened Kauravas sat again in council. Breathing like an angry serpent and wringing his hands, Karna said to Duryodhana, “Arjuna is always watchful, steady, skilled, and wise, and when the moment comes Vasudeva rouses him. Today we were cheated by that sudden storm of arrows. But tomorrow, lord of the Earth, I will make all his purposes fail.” Next morning Karna went to Duryodhana and said, “King, today I will fight that famous son of Pandu, Arjuna. Either I will kill him, or he will kill me. Until now, for many reasons, our duel has not come off. Now hear what I have resolved: I will not return without killing Partha.”

Karna set his own worth against Arjuna’s openly, with no false boasting. He said, “The power of my celestial weapons matches the power of Arjuna’s. But in foiling an enemy’s deeds, in quickness of hand, in the reach of the arrow, in skill, and in aim, Savyasachi is not my equal. My bow Vijaya, which Vishvakarma made for Indra, is greater than the Gandiva; with it Indra conquered the daityas, and Parashurama gave it to me. In this bow I stand above Arjuna.”

Then Karna spoke as truthfully of the things in which Arjuna surpassed him: “Now hear where the son of Pandu is greater than me. His bowstring is divine, his two great quivers are inexhaustible, and his charioteer is Govinda, who has no equal on my side. His chariot is fire-given, plated with gold, and unbreakable; his horses are swift as thought; and on his flag sits the ape Hanuman himself. That chariot is guarded by Krishna, the maker of the worlds. Lesser than Arjuna in these things, I still wish to fight him.”

Then Karna gave his remedy: “This Shalya, the ornament of assemblies, is the equal of Sauri, Krishna. If he becomes my charioteer, victory is certainly yours. In the science of horses the Dasharha Krishna is as skilled as Shalya, and no man matches the king of Madra in strength of arm, as no man matches me in weapons. So, as Krishna is Partha’s charioteer, make Shalya the charioteer of my chariot. Then I will surpass Arjuna in all his advantages.” Duryodhana, pleased, said, “Karna, whatever you think right, that I will do. Chariots loaded with your arrows and weapons will follow you, and all of us kings will follow you as well.”

A key to reading this (a concept): Karna’s reasoning is a fine one. In ancient war a chariot-warrior’s victory depended greatly on the skill of his charioteer, for it was the charioteer who carried the chariot to the right place at the right speed. Karna is saying that Arjuna has in Krishna a charioteer without equal, and that to close that gap he needs a charioteer as skilled in the science of horses as Shalya. This demand did not rise from Karna’s pride; it grew from a clear-eyed measure of Arjuna’s real superiority.

Duryodhana’s humble plea to Shalya

Then Duryodhana went to the great chariot-warrior Shalya, king of Madra, and with great humility and affection said, “Truthful one, fortunate one, increaser of your enemies’ sorrow, king of Madra, hero of battle, you have heard that at Karna’s word I ask this of you alone among all these best of kings. Warrior of matchless valor, for the ruin of the enemy and for my good, I bow my head today and humbly beg you to take up, out of affection, the task of Karna’s charioteer. With you at his reins, Radheya will conquer my enemies.”

Duryodhana went on, “Fortunate one, there is no one but you, the equal of Vasudeva in war, who can hold the reins of Karna’s horses. As Krishna of the Vrishnis guards the son of Pandu in every peril, so, king of Madra, guard Radheya today. Bhishma, Drona, Kripa, you, Kritavarma the Bhoja king, Shakuni the son of Subala, Drona’s son, and I, we were the chief strength of our army. The share of the enemy that fell to Bhishma and Drona is finished now; those two old tigers among men were killed by deceit. Now, lord of the Earth, do such a thing that these unconquerable sons of Kunti cannot destroy the remnant of my army.”

Duryodhana compared Karna and Shalya to the sun and Aruna: “As the sun, joined with his charioteer Aruna, destroys the darkness, so you, joined with Karna, destroy Partha in battle. Seeing Karna and Shalya, radiant as the rising sun, like two suns risen on the horizon, let the enemy’s great chariot-warriors flee. Karna is the best of chariot-warriors, and you are the best of charioteers. As Krishna of the Vrishnis guards the son of Pandu in every case, so guard Karna. With you at his reins, Karna will be unconquerable even by Indra and the gods, let alone the Pandavas. Do not doubt my words.”

A sub-tale: Notice how Duryodhana’s own argument scratches the very wound from which the coming quarrel will grow. Again and again he says, “As Krishna is Partha’s charioteer, so become Karna’s.” But Krishna, though a kinsman and lord of the Pandavas, drives their chariot of his own accord, while Shalya is a king, and being the charioteer of the charioteer’s son Karna feels to him like a stain on his royal honor. Here is the same tangle of caste, honor, and duty that returns again and again in the Mahabharata.

Shalya’s anger, and his cutting reply

Hearing these words of Duryodhana, Shalya filled with rage. Three lines rose on his brow, and he shook his arms again and again, rolling his large eyes red with anger, that great warrior of mighty arms, proud of his line, his wealth, his learning, and his strength, and he spoke.

Shalya said, “Son of Gandhari, you insult me, or you surely doubt me, since without hesitation you say to me, ‘Do the work of a charioteer.’ Holding Karna to be greater than me, you praise him in this way. But I do not count Radheya my equal in battle. Lord of the Earth, give me a far greater share of the enemy. I will destroy it and go back the way I came. Or, if you wish, I will fight the enemy alone. See today my valor as I burn the foe to ashes.”

Shalya went on, “Son of Kuru, weighing the insult, a man like me does not set his hand to any work. Do not doubt me, and never dishonor me in battle. See these arms of mine, strong as the thunderbolt; see my fine bow and my arrows like venomous serpents; see my chariot yoked with wind-swift horses; and see my mace, plated with gold and bound with hempen cord. Roused to anger, king, I can split the earth by my own fire, scatter the mountains, and dry up the seas. Knowing me so able to torment the foe, why do you set me at the charioteer’s post for the sake of one of low birth, the son of Adhiratha?”

Speaking of his honor, Shalya recalled the order of the four classes: “King of kings, it does not become you to put me to such a base task. So high-born am I that I cannot bring my mind to obey the command of some low man. Whoever puts a superior man, who has come of his own will and out of love to serve, under the command of an inferior, commits the sin of joining the high with the low. Brahma made the brahmanas from his mouth, the kshatriyas from his arms, the vaishyas from his thighs, and the shudras from his feet.” (Here Shalya’s stream of bitter words runs on further, calling the work of a charioteer against his line and his class, and returning again and again to Karna’s charioteer birth.)

A key to reading this (the moral tangle): Shalya’s cutting words are not smoothed over in the Mahabharata. Shalya, though the Pandavas’ maternal uncle, had been drawn into the Kaurava side by a trick, and he also carried an inner vow to sap Karna’s fire (as Sanjaya has already told). So his anger is not only pride of caste; behind it lies a hidden strategy. And Karna’s being raised in a charioteer’s house, and the insult he has borne his whole life because of it, make this passage more poignant still. The story does not set either side wholly in the right or wholly in the wrong.

The gist: Karna needs a charioteer like Shalya to stand equal with Arjuna. Duryodhana humbly begs Shalya, but the king of Madra, out of his royal pride and pride of caste, takes it as an insult to become the charioteer of the charioteer’s son Karna, and grows furious. From here begins the bitter exchange that will deepen along the road, and in the middle of which, under Karna’s command, the great battle will blaze up again with full force.

Duryodhana’s humble plea before the king of Madra

Sanjaya said, O king, after Drona had fallen and the charioteer’s son Karna had been consecrated to the commander’s post, your son Duryodhana, filled with great majesty, praised Karna in the assembly of all the kings and said, “Karna, many chariots will follow you into battle. As many chariots as you wish will carry your long shafts and your vulture-feathered arrows. We ourselves, and all these kings besides, Karna, will follow you into battle.”

Saying this, your royal son went up to Shalya, king of Madra, and with great affection and honor spoke to that great chariot-warrior: “Keeper of your word, most fortunate one, increaser of your enemies’ grief, king of Madra, hero of battle, striker of terror into hostile armies, you have heard, best of speakers, what Karna said to me, and for its sake I wish to beg this of you alone among all these lion-like kings. King of Madra of matchless majesty, for the ruin of the enemy I beg you today humbly and with bowed head. So, best of chariot-warriors, for the destruction of Partha and for my welfare, take up out of affection the post of charioteer. With you at his reins, the son of Radha will beat down my enemies. There is no one but you to hold the reins of Karna’s horses, most fortunate one, you who in war are the equal of Vasudeva.”

“Bhishma, and Drona, and Kripa, and you yourself, and the mighty king of the Bhojas, Kritavarma, and Shakuni the son of Subala, and Drona’s son, and I myself, we were the chief strength of our army. In just this way we had divided the enemy host into shares, each to his own. The share given to Bhishma is no longer left, nor the one given to the high-souled Drona. Going even beyond their appointed shares, those two cut down my enemies. But both those best of men were old, and both were killed by deceit. Having done deeds hard past belief, sinless one, those two went from here to heaven. In the same way many other best of men in our army, killed by the enemy in battle, giving up their lives after the utmost effort within their power, have gone to heaven.”

“And so, O king, this army of mine, most of it cut away, has come to this pass, and at the hands of the Parthas, who at the start were fewer than we. What is to be done now? Lord of the Earth, do now the thing by which the mighty and high-souled sons of Kunti, whose prowess cannot be made vain, cannot root out the remnant of my army. The Pandavas have killed the bravest of the brave in this host of mine. Only the mighty-armed Karna is devoted to our welfare, and you as well, best of men, who are foremost among all the chariot-warriors of the world. Shalya, Karna today wishes to close in battle with Arjuna. King of Madra, on him rest my great hopes of victory.”

A key to reading this (lineage and standing): Karna is called son of Radha (Radheya) and son of Adhiratha (Adhirathi), because he was raised by the charioteer couple Radha and Adhiratha. The suta is the class whose traditional work is driving chariots and singing praises. Here Duryodhana is begging a king, Shalya of Madra, to become the charioteer of the charioteer’s son Karna, a thing held to be against the order of the classes, and this is exactly what becomes the root of the coming quarrel.

“There is no one in the world but you who would be so good a rein-holder for Karna. As Krishna is foremost of all charioteers for Partha in war, so, O king, may you become foremost of all charioteers for Karna’s chariot. All the feats Partha performed, guarded and helped by Krishna in battle, are before your eyes. Arjuna never before killed his enemies in this way. But now, joined with Krishna, his prowess has grown vast. King of Madra, day after day this great army of Dhritarashtra is seen cut to pieces at Partha’s hands, because he is joined with Krishna.”

“Warrior of great fire, some part of the share divided to Karna and to you is left. Take up that share with Karna, and joined together, destroy it in battle. As the sun, joined with Aruna, destroys the darkness, so you, joined with Karna, destroy Partha in battle. Seeing those two warriors bright as the morning sun, Karna and Shalya, like two suns risen on the horizon, let the enemy’s great chariot-warriors flee. You are foremost of charioteers and Karna is foremost of chariot-warriors. With you at his reins, king, Karna will be unconquerable in war even by the gods led by Indra, let alone the Pandavas. Do not doubt my words.”

The gist: Karna’s one demand was a charioteer equal to Krishna, so that he could stand level with Arjuna. Before all the kings, Duryodhana bowed his head and begged the king of Madra, Shalya, to take up the post. He likened Karna and Shalya to the rising sun and Aruna, in the hope that their union would defeat the fire of Arjuna and Krishna.

Shalya’s anger, and his refusal of the charioteer’s post

Sanjaya said, hearing these words of Duryodhana, Shalya filled with rage. Knitting his brow into three lines, shaking his arms again and again, and rolling his large eyes red with anger, that warrior of mighty arms, proud of his line, his wealth, his learning, and his strength, spoke these words.

“Son of Gandhari, you insult me, or you surely doubt me, since you beg of me without hesitation, ‘Do the work of a charioteer.’ Holding Karna to be greater than us, you praise him in this way. But I do not count the son of Radha my equal in battle. Lord of the Earth, give me a far larger share. Destroying it in battle, I will go back the way I came. Or, delight of the Kurus, if you wish, I will close with the enemy alone. See today my valor as I burn the foe to ashes.”

“Son of Kuru, weighing the insult, a man like us does not set his hand to any work. Do not doubt me. You should never dishonor me in battle. See these two great arms of mine, firm as the thunderbolt. See my fine bow too, and these arrows like serpents of virulent venom. See my chariot, yoked with fine horses swift as the wind. Son of Gandhari, see my mace as well, adorned with gold and wound with hempen cords. Roused to anger, king, I can split the earth by my own fire, scatter the mountains, and dry up the seas.”

“King, knowing me so able to torment the foe, why do you appoint me in battle to the charioteer’s post for the sake of one of low birth like the son of Adhiratha? King of kings, it does not become you to set me to such base tasks. So high-born am I that I cannot bring my mind to obey the command of some sinful man.” Then Shalya spoke of the origin of the classes: “Brahma made the brahmanas from his mouth, and the kshatriyas from his arms. He made the vaishyas from his thighs and the shudras from his feet. From the mixing of these four classes, O Bharata, other special castes arose. The kshatriyas are called the protectors of the rest, the gatherers of wealth, and its givers. The brahmanas were set on earth to do the world good by helping at sacrifices, by teaching, and by accepting pure gifts. Farming, cattle-keeping, and giving are the works of the vaishyas by the scriptures. The shudras were ordained to serve the brahmanas, the kshatriyas, and the vaishyas. In the same way the sutas are servants of the kshatriyas, and the kshatriyas are not servants of the sutas.”

“Hear these words of mine, sinless one. As for myself, I am one whose head has had the sacred anointing bath. I am born in a line of royal sages. I am counted a great chariot-warrior. I am worthy of the worship and praise that bards and heralds sing. Being all this, destroyer of hostile armies, I cannot go so far as to become that charioteer’s son’s charioteer. I will never fight after being dishonored. Son of Gandhari, I ask your leave to go home.”

Sanjaya said, having spoken thus, that best of men and ornament of assemblies, Shalya, rose up quickly in his anger and made to leave that gathering of kings. But your son held the king back with affection and great honor, and spoke to him these sweet and soothing words that are able to accomplish every purpose.

The gist: Shalya refuses the charioteer’s post, taking it as an insult to his line of royal sages and his rank as a great chariot-warrior. He leans on the order of the four classes to argue that the suta is the servant of the kshatriya, not the kshatriya of the suta, and rises to leave. Here the moral tangle of the Mahabharata is clear, for the secret of Karna’s birth is still hidden, and the shadow of caste falls on his valor from the day he was born.

Duryodhana’s coaxing, and the tale of the burning of Tripura

“Shalya, it is surely as you say. But I have a purpose. Hear it, ruler of men. Karna is not greater than you, nor, O king, do I doubt you. The best of the kings of Madra will never do a false thing. Those forebears of yours, best of men, always spoke only the truth. For this, I think, you are called Artayani, one whose refuge is truth. And since, giver of honor, you are like a barbed arrow, a shalya, to your enemies, for this you are known on earth by the name Shalya.”

“Great giver of gifts to brahmanas at sacrifices, fulfill now all that you promised before. Neither the son of Radha nor I am greater than you in prowess, that I should choose you as the charioteer of those fine horses. But, noble one, as Karna is greater than Dhananjaya in many virtues, so the world holds you greater than Vasudeva. Best of men, Karna is surely greater than Partha in the science of weapons. And you are greater than Krishna in knowledge of horses and in strength. King of Madra, your knowledge of horses is surely double that of the high-souled Vasudeva.”

Then Shalya said, “Son of Gandhari, since you, O Kuru, in the midst of all these armies, call me greater than the son of Devaki, I am pleased with you. As you beg, I will become the charioteer of the famous son of Radha when he closes in battle with the best of Pandu’s sons. But, hero, let this be my condition with the son of Vikartana: that in his presence I will speak whatever words I wish.” Your son, together with Karna, answered the king of Madra, “So be it.”

Then Duryodhana said, “King of Madra, hear once more what I will tell you, about what happened long ago in the war of the gods and the asuras. The great sage Markandeya told it to my father. I will now tell it to you without leaving anything out, best of royal sages.” Then Duryodhana began the tale: “Between the gods and the asuras, each eager to conquer the other, there was a great war, whose root cause was Taraka. We have heard that the daityas were defeated by the gods. At the defeat of the daityas, the three sons of Taraka, whose names were Tarakaksha, Kamalaksha, and Vidyunmali, took to severe penance and held to high vows.”

“By those penances they wasted their bodies thin, scorcher of foes. For their self-restraint, their penance, their vows, and their meditation, the boon-giving Grandsire, Brahma, was pleased with them and gave them boons. Together they begged of the Grandsire of all the worlds a boon of freedom from death at the hands of all beings, at all times. The divine lord of all the worlds said to them, ‘There is no such thing as freedom from death at the hands of all beings. So, asuras, give up this prayer. Ask some other boon that pleases you.’”

“Then all of them, king, after long and repeated counsel among themselves, bowed to the great lord of all the worlds and said, ‘God, Grandsire, give us this boon. Dwelling in three cities we will roam this earth, and may your grace always be before us. Then after a thousand years we will come together, and our three cities too, sinless one, will be joined into one. Whoever among the gods, the best of them, pierces those three cities joined into one with a single arrow, he, lord, will be the cause of our destruction.’ Saying ‘So be it’ to them, the god ascended to heaven.”

A sub-tale: Having won their boon, those asuras chose Maya, the great asura-architect, who knew neither weariness nor decay and was worshipped by all the daityas and danavas, to build the three cities. By the power of his penance Maya made three cities, one of gold, one of silver, and one of black iron. The golden city he set in heaven, the silver in the middle air, and the iron on the earth, so placed that they wheeled together in a circle. Each of those cities was a hundred yojanas wide and a hundred yojanas long. The golden city was Tarakaksha’s, the silver Kamalaksha’s, and the iron Vidyunmali’s.

A key to reading this (numbers and place in modern terms): A yojana is an ancient unit of measure, roughly twelve to fifteen kilometers. A city of a hundred yojanas would stretch some twelve hundred to fifteen hundred kilometers, a figure that marks symbolic vastness rather than literal geography. This is the tale of the burning of Tripura, the three cities, which Shiva accomplished with a single arrow.

“Those three daitya kings soon overran the three worlds with their fire and began to rule, saying, ‘Who is this they call the Creator?’ To those matchless danavas came from every side millions upon millions of proud, flesh-eating danavas who had earlier been beaten by the gods, and now settled in the three cities. Maya supported them all, the giver of every desire. Tarakaksha had a brave and mighty son, Hari. He did severe penance, and the Grandsire was pleased. Hari asked the boon, ‘Let there arise in our city a lake such that men killed by weapons, thrown into it, come out alive again with doubled strength.’ Winning this boon, Hari made in his city a lake that could bring the dead back to life.”

“Proud of these boons, the daityas began to torment the three worlds, and shamelessly rooted out the cities and towns set up everywhere. Then, when the worlds were so tormented, Indra, ringed by the Maruts, hurled his thunderbolt on the three cities from every side and fought them. But when Indra could not pierce those cities, which the Creator’s boons had made unbreakable, the lord of the gods, filled with fear, left the cities, went to the Grandsire, and laid the outrages of the asuras before him. He asked by what means Tripura could be destroyed.”

“Hearing Indra’s words, the Grandsire said, ‘Whoever wrongs you wrongs me as well. The asuras are all of evil soul and always hate the gods. Yet the unrighteous should be killed, and that is my firm vow. Those three forts are to be pierced with a single arrow. By no other means can they be destroyed. None but Sthanu, Shiva, can pierce them with one arrow. Adityas, choose as your warrior Sthanu, who is called Ishana and Jishnu, who never tires of any deed. He will destroy those asuras.’”

The gist: Shalya’s condition was that he might speak whatever he wished in Karna’s presence. Accepting it, Duryodhana began the tale of the burning of Tripura, to prove that even a greater god had once taken up the work of driving a chariot. Taraka’s three sons won three unbreakable cities of gold, silver, and iron, and the gods’ one hope of safety was a single arrow of Sthanu, Shiva.

Mahadeva’s celestial chariot, and Brahma at the reins

“With the Grandsire at their head, the gods, led by Indra, took refuge with the bull-marked god, Shiva. With the high words of the Vedas they praised that destroyer of all fear, that soul of the universe, that supreme being. Then those gods, who had learned by special penance to make their souls still, beheld Ishana, the lord of Uma, that mass of fire, that supreme and utterly sinless essence. Though the god is one, they conceived of him in many forms. They all touched the earth with their heads. Shankara said ‘Welcome’ and raised them up, and smiling, asked the purpose of their coming.”

The gods praised Shiva by many names, and said, “To you our reverence again and again, lord. Reverence to you who are the root of all the gods, who bear the bow, who are full of wrath. Reverence to you who destroyed the sacrifice of the Prajapati Daksha, reverence to you worshipped by all the Prajapatis, who are death itself, who are blue-throated, who bear the trident, who have the eyes of a deer, who are pure, who are destruction itself, who are Brahma, who are the celibate, who are Ishana, who are beyond measure, who wear bark garments, who are ever set on penance, who are the father of Kumara, who are three-eyed. In mind, word, and deed we give ourselves to you. Be pleased with us.” Pleased by these praises, the holy god said, “Let your fears be dispelled. Say, what shall we do for you?”

Then Brahma prayed to Shankara, “Lord of all, by your grace I hold the lordship of all creatures. Holding that place, I gave the danavas a great boon. There is none but you, lord of past and future, who can destroy those wicked ones. Bearer of the trident, have mercy on these gods. Destroy the danavas.”

Sthanu said, “All your enemies should be killed. But I will not kill them alone. The enemies of the gods are strong. So all of you together, with half of my strength, burn the enemies. Unity is great power.” The gods said, “Their fire and strength are double ours, we think, for we have already seen their fire and strength.” The holy god said, “Then with half of my fire and strength kill the enemies.” The gods said, “Maheshwara, we cannot bear half of your strength. You, from your side, kill the enemies with half of our combined strength.” The holy god said, “If you cannot bear half of my strength, then, endowed with half of your combined fire, I will kill them.”

Duryodhana went on, “The gods said, ‘So be it.’ Taking half the fire of them all, that god became supreme in strength, supreme in all the universe. From that time Shankara was called Mahadeva, the great god. Mahadeva said, ‘Furnished with bow and arrow, I will destroy your enemies in war from my chariot. So, gods, make ready my chariot, my bow, and my arrow.’”

The gods took portions from all the forms of the three worlds and made a chariot of great fire for Mahadeva. They made Vishnu, Soma, and Hutashana, Agni, the arrow of Shankara. Agni became its shaft, Soma its head, and Vishnu its point. The earth, with her wide cities, mountains, and forests, became the chariot. Mount Mandara became its axle, and the Ganga its shaft. The directions became its ornaments. The stars became its rod, the Krita age its yoke, and Vasuki, best of serpents, the pole of that chariot. Himavat and the Vindhya became its side-parts and its base, and the mountains of sunrise and sunset became its wheels.

A key to reading this (a concept): This description of the chariot is a symbol, in which the whole universe is figured into the limbs of Mahadeva’s car. The earth is the chariot, the mountains its axles and wheels, the rivers its cords, the Vedas its horses, the sacred sounds Omkara and Vashat its adornment. The meaning is that the burning of Tripura was no ordinary battle. It is the power of all creation gathered to a single point.

“The ocean, the home of the danavas, became its second axle. The seven rishis became the guards of its wheels. The Ganga, Saraswati, Sindhu, and the sky became its axle-tree. Day and night became the auspicious wings on its right and left. The ten serpents with Dhritarashtra at their head became its second pole. The sky became the second yoke, and the clouds named Samvartaka and Valahaka the leather straps of the yoke. The world-guardians, the lords of the waters, the dead, and the treasures, Varuna, Yama, and Kubera, became the horses of that chariot. Dharma, Artha, and Kama together became its triple bamboo shaft. The sun and moon, made equal, became the other two wheels of that chariot.”

“When the chariot was ready, Shankara set his celestial weapons on it, made the sky his flag, and set his bull upon it. The rod of Brahma, the rod of death, the rod of Rudra, and fever became the guards of the chariot’s sides. Atharva and Angiras became the guards of its wheels. The Rig, the Sama, and the Puranas stood before the chariot. Itihasa and the Yajur became the guards behind. And Omkara, standing before that chariot, made it most beautiful.”

“Making the year adorned with its six seasons his bow, Mahadeva made his own shadow the bowstring of that bow. Having furnished all this, Shankara took up that celestial arrow made of Soma, Vishnu, and Agni. Then Mahadeva, striking fear even into the gods and making the earth tremble, mounted that chariot firmly.”

“Then Mahadeva, smiling, asked the gods, ‘Who will be my charioteer?’ The gods answered, ‘Whomever you appoint, god of gods, he will surely be your charioteer.’ The god replied, ‘Consider it yourselves, and without delay appoint as my charioteer one who is greater than me.’ Hearing these words the gods went to the Grandsire and said, ‘Holy one, we see no one but you who could be the charioteer of this chariot. You are full of every virtue. You, lord, are greater than all the gods. For the victory of the gods and the destruction of the enemy, mount that chariot swiftly and take up the reins of those fine horses.’”

The Grandsire said, “There is nothing false in what you say, gods. I will hold the reins for Kapardin, Shiva, when he is engaged in war.” Then that Creator, the Grandsire, was appointed charioteer of the high-souled Ishana. He took up the reins and the goad, raised the horses, and said to Sthanu, “Mount.” Then Sthanu, taking the arrow made of Vishnu, Soma, and Agni, mounted the chariot. With those horses worshipped by all the worlds, the god sped forth for the victory of the gods.

The gist: The gods built Mahadeva’s celestial chariot from the parts of the whole universe, so that earth, mountains, rivers, Vedas, and even gods became its limbs. Mahadeva took half the combined fire of the gods in place of giving them half his own, and from that time was called Mahadeva. The warrior was Rudra, and the Creator himself, the Grandsire Brahma, became his charioteer. This was the heart of Duryodhana’s argument: that even a greater one may become a charioteer.

The burning of Tripura, and the tale of Parashurama

“When Bhava set out on his chariot toward Tripura, his bull roared so terribly that it filled all the directions. Hearing that roar, many of Taraka’s descendants and followers gave up their lives. Others stood before the enemy for battle. Then Sthanu, bearer of the trident, was lost to himself in wrath. All beings were afraid, and the three worlds trembled.” As he fixed the arrow, under the weight of Soma, Agni, and Vishnu, and under the weight of Brahma, Rudra, and Rudra’s bow, the chariot began to sink. Then Narayana came out from the point of the arrow, took the form of a bull, and lifted that great chariot up.

“While Rudra stood with his bow drawn, the three cities came together. When the three cities lost their separate forms and became one, the joy of the high-souled gods overflowed. All the gods, the siddhas, and the great rishis praised Maheshwara, crying ‘Victory.’ Then that god of wondrous fire drew his celestial bow and loosed on Tripura the arrow that held the strength of the whole universe. The moment the arrow flew, piteous cries of grief were heard from the cities as they began to fall toward the earth. Burning the asuras, he flung them into the western ocean. So Tripura was burned, and Maheshwara rooted out the danavas for the good of the three worlds.”

Duryodhana went on, “In this way the Grandsire Brahma became the charioteer and Rudra the warrior. The charioteer of a chariot should be greater than the warrior on it. So, best of men, hold the reins of the horses in this battle. As on that occasion all the gods, knowing the Grandsire to be greater than Shankara, chose him with care, so, king, we have chosen you, who are greater than Karna.”

“There is another tale I will tell. A virtuous brahmana told it in my father’s presence. In the line of the Bhrigus was Jamadagni of severe penance. He had a son endowed with fire and every virtue, famous by the name of Rama, Parashurama. Doing the most severe penance, bound by his vows, keeping his senses in check, he worshipped Bhava for weapons. Pleased by his devotion and the calm of his heart, Mahadeva showed himself to him. Mahadeva said, ‘Rama, I am pleased with you. I know your wish. Purify your soul. Then you will win all that you want. I will give you all the weapons when you are pure. Those weapons, son of Bhrigu, burn the unworthy and the unfit.’”

Duryodhana went on, “Then, with penance, self-restraint, vows, worship, oblations, and sacrifices rich in mantras, Rama worshipped Sarva, Shiva, for many years. At last Mahadeva, in the presence of his divine wife, was pleased with him and called him endowed with many virtues. Meanwhile the daityas grew very strong, and, blind with pride and folly, began to torment the gods. Even united the gods could not conquer them. Then they worshipped Maheshwara and said, ‘Destroy our enemies.’ That god called Rama and said, ‘Son of Bhrigu, for the good of all the worlds and for my pleasure, destroy all the gathered enemies of the gods.’”

Rama said, “Lord of gods, what strength is in me, without weapons, to destroy in battle those weapon-skilled and invincible danavas?” Maheshwara said, “Go at my command. You will destroy those enemies.” Rama went against the danavas and said to them, “Daityas, give me battle. The lord of the gods has sent me to destroy you.” Rama destroyed the daityas with blows like the touch of Indra’s thunderbolt, and, wearing many wounds on his body, returned to Mahadeva. At Sthanu’s touch his wounds healed at once. Pleased, Mahadeva gave the son of Bhrigu various celestial weapons.

“The descendant of Bhrigu gave all that knowledge of weapons, gladly and with a pleased heart, to the high-souled Karna, best of kings. If there were any flaw in Karna, lord of the Earth, the descendant of Bhrigu would never have given him his celestial weapons. I do not believe Karna could be born of the charioteer class. I hold him to be the son of some god, born in the kshatriya class. With his inborn earrings and his inborn armor, this mighty-armed great chariot-warrior, who is like the sun itself, could not have been born of an ordinary woman, as a doe can never bear a tiger. King, this high-souled man is Rama’s pupil. Warrior of great fire, as the Grandsire held the reins of Rudra’s horses, so hold the reins of Karna’s.”

A key to reading this (lineage): “Rama” here is the Bhrigu warrior Parashurama, son of Jamadagni, and not Rama the son of Dasharatha. Parashurama was Karna’s teacher in arms. With this tale Duryodhana hints at Karna’s divine nature, that a man to whom Parashurama gave his weapons could be no ordinary suta. Here the secret of Karna’s birth (that he is in truth a son of Kunti) is still hidden from the characters, though Duryodhana has come close to it on his own.

The gist: Mahadeva burned Tripura to ashes with a single arrow and cast the asuras into the western ocean, while Narayana, taking the form of a bull, held up the sinking chariot. Duryodhana also told the tale of Parashurama, to show that Karna’s teacher was armed by the grace of Shiva, and that Karna is his pupil and so no common suta. Both tales carried one meaning: to become the charioteer of a greater one is no insult.

Shalya consents, and the bitter talk between Karna and Shalya begins

Shalya said, “Best of men, I have heard this excellent and celestial tale of those two god-lions many times. I have heard how the Grandsire became Bhava’s charioteer and how the asuras were destroyed by a single arrow. Krishna too knew all this beforehand, how the Grandsire had become a charioteer on that occasion. Krishna knows the past and the future in all their fullness. Knowing this, he became Partha’s charioteer, as the Self-born became Rudra’s. If the charioteer’s son should somehow kill the son of Kunti, Arjuna, then Keshava, seeing Partha slain, will fight himself. Then, bearing conch, discus, and mace, he will burn your army to ashes. There is no king here who could stand before that best of the Vrishnis when he blazes with wrath.”

Hearing those words, your son answered with a glad heart, “Mighty-armed one, do not slight Karna, the son of Vikartana, that warrior who is foremost of all weapon-bearers and knows the meaning of all our scriptures. At the terrible twang of his bow and the clap of his palms the Pandava army flees on every side. You saw with your own eyes how Ghatotkacha, covered by his illusions, was killed that night by Karna. For fear of him Vibhatsu, Arjuna, could not stand before Karna all these days. The mighty Bhimasena too was pushed this way and that by the tip of Karna’s bow and was addressed with harsh names, ‘fool’ and ‘glutton.’ Both the brave sons of Madri were beaten by Karna, though for some purpose he did not kill them then. Satyaki, the brave best of the Vrishnis, was beaten and left chariotless by Karna. All the Srinjayas led by Dhrishtadyumna were beaten by Karna again and again.”

“Hero, you too know every weapon and are master of every branch of learning. There is none your equal in strength of arm on earth. Irresistible in valor, you are like a barbed arrow, a shalya, to your enemies, and for this, king, you are called Shalya. Is Krishna greater than you in strength of arm, king? As Krishna must take up the burden of the Pandava army at Partha’s death, so, if Karna gives up his life, you must take up the burden of this great army. For you, noble one, I will gladly follow the path of my slain brothers and of the other brave kings.”

Shalya said, “Son of Gandhari, when you, giver of honor, in front of your army, call me greater than the son of Devaki, I am well pleased with you. As you wish, I accept the post of charioteer to the famous son of Radha when he fights the best of Pandu’s sons. But, hero, I have one condition with the son of Vikartana: that in his presence I will speak whatever words I wish.” Your son, together with Karna, answered before all the kshatriyas, “So be it.” Reassured by Shalya’s consent, Duryodhana, filled with joy, embraced Karna.

Being praised, Duryodhana said again to Karna, “Destroy all the Parthas in battle, as Indra destroyed the danavas.” Karna, with a glad heart, said to Duryodhana, “The king of Madra does not say what he says with much pleasure. King, beg of him once more in sweet words.” Then the wise Duryodhana, in a voice deep as a cloud, said to Shalya again, “Shalya, Karna thinks he must fight Arjuna today. Having killed all the other warriors, Karna wishes to kill Phalguna. Again and again I beg you to hold the reins of his horses. As Krishna, best of charioteers, is Partha’s counselor, so guard the son of Radha today from every peril.”

Shalya embraced Duryodhana and answered with joy, “Son of Gandhari, if this is what you think, then for it I will do all that pleases you. I will bear the burden of that work with my whole heart. But let Karna and you forgive all the words, welcome or unwelcome, that I will speak wishing Karna’s good.”

Karna said, “King of Madra, be always set on our good, as Brahma on Ishana’s good and Keshava on Partha’s.” Shalya said, “These four kinds of conduct, blaming oneself, praising oneself, speaking ill of others, and flattering others, honored men never do. Even so, learned one, to win your trust, what I will say carries self-praise. Hear it anyway. Warrior of great majesty, like Matali, I am fit to be charioteer even of Indra in watchfulness, in the driving of horses, in the knowledge of danger as it comes and the way to escape it. When you fight Partha, I will hold the reins of your horses. Let your worry be gone, son of a charioteer.”

The gist: Shalya at last accepts the charioteer’s post, but under one hard condition: that in Karna’s presence he may say whatever he wishes. Both Duryodhana and Karna agree. Shalya likens himself to Matali, the charioteer of Indra. This condition sets the stage for the sharp war of words to come, for Shalya bears inwardly no love for Karna.

The march to battle, the ill omens, and Karna’s proud vow

When morning came, Duryodhana said again to the king of Madra, “Hold the reins of Karna’s fine horses in battle. Guarded by you, the son of Radha will conquer Dhananjaya.” Shalya said “So be it” and mounted the chariot. As Shalya came near, Karna said with a glad heart, “Charioteer, make ready my chariot quickly.” Shalya made that fine chariot ready and handed it to Karna, saying, “Fortune to you, and victory.” Then Karna, having worshipped by the rites that chariot consecrated long ago by a priest who knew the Veda, having circled it and worshipped the god of the sun, said to the king of Madra, “Mount.” Then the warrior of great fire, Shalya, mounted that vast, unconquerable, fine chariot as a lion mounts a mountain peak. Seeing Shalya seated, Karna mounted his fine chariot as the sun mounts a mass of clouds shot with lightning. Seated on one chariot, those two heroes shone as if the sun and the fire sat together on a cloud.

Duryodhana said to Karna, “Son of Adhiratha, hero, do that hard thing that Drona and Bhishma did not do before all the bowmen. Either capture Yudhishthira, or kill Dhananjaya, Bhimasena, and the two sons of Madri. Fortune to you, and victory. Best of men, set out for battle. Burn the whole army of the son of Pandu.” Then thousands of trumpets and tens of thousands of drums sounded together. Karna said to Shalya, “Mighty-armed one, drive the horses on, that I may kill Dhananjaya, Bhimasena, the two twins, and Yudhishthira. Today, for Duryodhana’s victory, I will rain arrows with great fire.”

Shalya said, “Son of a charioteer, why do you slight the sons of Pandu so, all of them mighty, great bowmen, skilled in every weapon? They are unconquerable and can strike fear into the heart of Indra himself. Son of Radha, when you hear in battle the thunder-loud twang of the Gandiva, you will not speak such words.” Karna ignored this and said, “Drive on.”

The moment Karna set out for battle, the Kauravas raised lion-roars. But then many terrible omens appeared, foretelling the ruin of the Kauravas. The earth trembled and gave out a dreadful sound. Seven great planets, with the sun among them, seemed to move toward war with one another. Meteors rained down, and all the directions seemed ablaze. Thunderbolts fell from a cloudless sky, and fierce winds blew. Beasts and birds kept the army on their right, a sign of great disaster. As Karna set out his horses fell to the ground. A dreadful rain of bones fell from the sky. But, deluded by fate, no one heeded those omens.

A key to reading this (a concept): In the Mahabharata, ill omens before a battle (meteors, thunderbolts, the disordering of the planets, the strange behavior of animals) come as forewarnings of ruin. They are poetic signals that underscore the weight of the coming carnage. Here they foretell the ruin of the Kaurava side, though Karna, in his pride, ignores them.

Remembering the deaths of Drona and Bhishma, Karna said to Shalya, “Standing on my chariot and armed with my bow, I would not fear even an angry Indra with his thunderbolt. Seeing Bhishma and Drona fallen on the field, I feel no fear in this war. When the teacher Drona himself had to fall under the power of death, I count all the rest of my army feeble and in the mouth of death. In this world, however I think on it, I find nothing that stands firm, for deeds are bound to their fruits. When the teacher himself was killed, who could firmly believe he will live even to today’s sunrise?”

“When our women and children are wailing, when the prowess of the Dhartarashtras is beaten, I know, Shalya, that it is I who must fight now. So drive toward the enemy’s army. Who but me can withstand those warriors among whom stand the truth-firm prince Yudhishthira, Bhimasena, Arjuna, Satyaki, and the two twins? So, king of Madra, drive quickly toward the Panchalas, the Pandavas, and the Srinjayas. Either I will kill them, or I will go by Drona’s road to Yama. I cannot cross the line of my fate.”

“This fine chariot, covered with tiger-skin, its axle silent, with a golden seat and a silver bamboo-shaft, yoked with these fine horses, Rama, Parashurama, gave me. See these fine bows, Shalya, these flags, these maces, these fierce-shaped arrows, this blazing sword, and this white conch. Mounting this chariot and bending all my strength, I will kill in battle Arjuna, best of chariot-warriors. Even if Yama, Varuna, Kubera, and Vasava come with their followers and guard the son of Pandu in battle, what more shall I say, I will conquer him together with them all.”

The gist: After the rites of worship for the chariot, its banners, and the sun, Karna set out for battle. Terrible omens broke out all around, and Karna, in proud words, vowed to kill Arjuna. Within, on the one hand, he accepts the certainty of death from the deaths of Drona and Bhishma; on the other, he claims he will fight even Vasava, Yama, Varuna, and Kubera. This mixture of the moral and the psychological is the hallmark of the Mahabharata’s Karna.

Shalya’s mocking rebuke, and the parable of the swan and the crow

Hearing Karna’s boasts, the king of Madra laughed aloud in scorn and answered him to hold him back, “Stop, stop, Karna, with such boasting. Carried away by joy, you are saying what should never be said. Where is Dhananjaya, that best of men, and where are you, worst of men? Who but Arjuna could carry off the younger sister of Krishna, disturbing the house of the Yadus by force? Who but Arjuna could summon the world-lord Bhava to battle at the dispute over the killing of the beast?”

“Do you remember, Karna, the time when Phalguna freed your own Dhritarashtra’s son among the Kurus? Do you remember the time when you fled first, and the quarrelsome son of Dhritarashtra was freed by the Pandavas when they beat those gandharvas led by Chitraratha? And at the seizing of the cattle of Virata too, when the teacher, the teacher’s son, and Bhishma stood among the Kurus, they were beaten by that best of men. Son of a charioteer, why did you not conquer Arjuna then? If you do not flee from fear of the enemy, know, son of a charioteer, that the moment you go into battle you will be killed.”

Then Karna said in anger, “So be it, so be it. But why do you dwell on praising Arjuna? A fight between him and me is to come. If he conquers me in battle, then your praises will be counted fitting.” The king of Madra said “So be it” and gave no more answer. Karna said “Drive on,” and that great chariot-warrior, with his white horses and his charioteer Shalya, killing many on the road, advanced toward the enemy.

As he went, Karna said to every Pandava soldier, “Whoever shows me the white-horsed and high-souled Dhananjaya today, I will give him all the wealth he wants. If that does not content him, I will give him a cartload of gems and jewels. If even then he is not content, I will give him a hundred cows with a hundred bronze vessels. Whoever shows me Arjuna, I will give him a hundred fine villages.” In this way Karna offered as prizes a hundred elephants, a hundred villages, a hundred chariots, ten thousand horses of the finest breed, four hundred cows with gilded horns, five hundred horses decked with golden ornaments, six hundred elephants adorned with golden chains, and fourteen villages of the vaishyas. He said, “Whoever shows me Keshava and Arjuna, killing them both I will give him all the wealth they leave behind.” Saying this, Karna blew his fine sea-born conch.

A sub-tale: Shalya said in mockery, “Son of a charioteer, give no one a golden chariot with six elephants like bulls. You will see Dhananjaya today without any effort at all. In your folly you scatter such wealth as though you were Kubera. We have never heard of a pair of lions beaten by a fox. You want what should never be wanted. It is as if a man tied a heavy stone around his neck and wished to cross the sea on the strength of his two arms, or wished to leap from a mountain peak. If you want your own good, then, staying safe within your own array and with the help of all your warriors, fight Dhananjaya.”

Karna said, “By the strength of my own arms I seek out Arjuna. But you, an enemy wearing a friend’s face, wish to frighten me. No one can shake me from this resolve, not Indra himself with the thunderbolt raised, let alone any mortal.” Shalya, to goad him further, heaped up his images: “When Phalguna’s sharp, kanka-feathered arrows seek you out, then you will grieve over this clash with that hero. As a child lying in its mother’s lap foolishly wishes to seize the moon, so you wish to conquer the radiant Arjuna.”

Shalya likened Karna again and again to a fox, a jackal, a hare, a frog, and a dog, and Arjuna to a lion, an elephant, a tiger, Garuda, and the rain-cloud Parjanya. “As between a mouse and a chariot, a dog and a tiger, a fox and a lion, a hare and an elephant, as between falsehood and truth, and poison and nectar, so is the difference between you and Partha, known to all by their deeds.”

Stung by these word-arrows and feeling how apt was the name of the man who reined him in, Shalya being a thorn, Karna filled with anger and said, “Shalya, the virtues of the virtuous are known only to those who are themselves virtuous, not to those who lack virtue. You lack every virtue. How then will you know virtue from fault? I know well Arjuna’s great weapons, his wrath, his fire, his bow, his arrows, and his prowess, Shalya. Knowing my own fire and the son of Pandu’s, I call him to battle. I do not act like a moth toward a blazing fire.”

“I have this arrow, Shalya, sharp-mouthed, blood-drinking, kept alone in one quiver, worshipped for years amid sandal powder. Serpent in nature and in form, it is venomous and fierce. That arrow I will never loose on any but Phalguna, or Krishna the son of Devaki. This I tell you truly.” Then Karna began a harsh censure of the land of Madra: “The Madrakas are always betrayers of friends. Whoever hates us is a Madraka. There is no friendship in a Madraka, who is low in speech and worst among men. We have heard that the Madrakas are wicked until the moment of death.”

A key to reading this (a concept): This harsh war of words between Karna and Shalya, with its fierce censure of the Madra, Vahika, and Aratta peoples, is part of the original text of the Mahabharata. It reflects the fierce style of kshatriya speech of the time and the mutual jibes between regions. It should be read not as a comment on history or society, but as the pre-battle exchange of insults between two angry warriors, made possible by Shalya’s condition of free speech.

Then Shalya, to crush Karna’s pride, told the parable of the swan and the crow: “Across the sea lived a vaishya with wealth of grain and gold in plenty. He performed sacrifices, gave gifts, and was kind to all beings. He had many dear sons. A crow lived on the leavings of those boys. They gave it meat, curds, milk, sweet rice, honey, and butter. Fed on their leavings, the crow grew proud and began to slight all birds, its equals and its betters.”

“Once some swans came to that shore, swift and far-flying as Garuda. The boys said to the crow, ‘Sky-farer, you are the best of all birds.’ Deceived by the words of foolish boys, the crow believed it. Puffed up with pride from the leavings, the crow went among the swans and challenged their leader to a contest of flight. The swans laughed and said, ‘We are swans of Lake Manasa. We travel over all the earth. How do you, a mere crow, challenge us, who go where we please and fly far?’”

“The crow boasted that it would fly a hundred and one kinds of flight. One swan answered, ‘Crow, you will surely fly a hundred and one kinds of flight. But I will fly only the one kind that all other birds know, for I know no other. You, red-eyed one, fly whatever flight you wish.’ Then the two rose into the sky, challenging each other. The swan went one slow kind of flight, the crow a hundred kinds. For a moment the swan seemed to fall behind. Then the crows began to mock, saying the swan was losing.”

“Hearing this, the swan flew very fast to the west out over the sea, that abode of makaras. Then fear entered the crow’s heart, for there was no island or tree in sight to rest on when it tired. It began to wonder where it would sit, tired, over that endless spread of water. The swan, having crossed a great distance in a moment, looked back at the crow, and, though able to leave it behind, did not, thinking, ‘Let the crow come.’ Utterly tired, the crow reached the swan. Seeing it sinking, and remembering the conduct of the good, the swan asked, ‘You spoke of many kinds of flight. What flight is this, crow, that you now fly, touching the water again and again with your wings and beak? Come, come, quickly, I am waiting for you.’”

“In great distress the crow said, ‘We are crows; we go here and there, cawing. Swan, I take refuge in you, I place my life in your hands. Oh, carry me to the seashore with your wings and beak.’ Saying this, the tired crow suddenly fell. Without a single word the swan lifted the dying crow with its claws, set it gently on its back, and quickly returned to the very island from which they had flown. Setting it down on dry land and comforting it, the swan went off swift as thought to the region it desired.”

Shalya said, “As that crow, fed on the leavings of the vaishya’s boys, slighted its equals and its betters, so you, Karna, fed on the leavings of Dhritarashtra’s sons, slight all your equals and your betters. In the city of Virata, when you were guarded by Drona, Drona’s son, Kripa, and Bhishma, why did you not kill Partha? As a pack of jackals beaten by a lion, so all of you were beaten by Arjuna of the diadem. Seeing your brother killed by Savyasachi, you fled first. At the lake of Dvaitavana too, when you were set upon by the gandharvas, you fled first, and it was Partha, killing the gandharvas led by Chitrasena, who freed Duryodhana together with his wife. As the crow in that tale took refuge in the swan, so take refuge in the best of the Vrishnis and in the son of Pandu, Dhananjaya.”

The gist: Shalya mocked without mercy Karna’s pride in his gifts and his claim to kill Arjuna, likening him to a fox, a jackal, and a crow, and Arjuna to a lion, Garuda, and a swan. The heart of the swan-and-crow parable was that a crow fed on leavings, swollen with false pride, was in the end forced to take refuge in the swan. Shalya recalled the fights at Virata, the cattle-expedition, and Dvaitavana to remind Karna of his earlier flights. This hardness between them is the fruit of Shalya’s condition.

Karna’s two curses, and Duryodhana’s intervention

Hearing these words of Shalya unmoved, Karna answered, “What Vasudeva and Arjuna are, I know well. The skill of Shauri, Krishna, in driving a chariot and the high weapons of the son of Pandu, Arjuna, are known to me this hour. Fearlessly I will fight both those Krishnas. But the curse of Rama, Parashurama, pains me greatly today.” Then Karna opened his secret: “In former days I dwelt with Rama in the guise of a brahmana, wishing to win celestial weapons. Once the king of the gods, wishing to do Phalguna good, took the dreadful form of an insect and pierced my thigh. While my teacher slept with his head resting on my thigh, that insect began to bore through my thigh. A stream of blood flowed from my body. For fear of waking my teacher I did not move a limb.”

“Waking, the brahmana saw what had happened. Seeing my endurance, he said, ‘You can never be a brahmana. Tell me truly who you are.’ I told him the truth, that I was a suta. Then that great ascetic, his heart filled with wrath, cursed me: ‘Suta, by the deception with which you have won this weapon, it will not come to your memory in the hour of need, when the hour of your death comes. Brahma surely does not dwell in one who is not a brahmana.’ In this fierce and terrible battle I have forgotten that great weapon.”

“Even so, Shalya, know that I will kill in battle that fierce bowman, that best of men, the son of Pandu, Dhananjaya. As the mighty ocean rushes with fierce speed to swallow countless beings, and the shore holds it back, so today I will hold back the son of Kunti.” Then Karna recalled the second curse: “Once, while practicing with my bow Vijaya, I unknowingly killed the calf of a brahmana’s homa cow as it wandered in a lonely forest. The brahmana said to me, ‘Since in your carelessness you have killed the calf of my homa cow, at the time of battle your chariot-wheel will sink into the earth and fear will enter your heart.’ From these words I feel great fear.”

“I offered that brahmana a thousand cows, six hundred bulls, seven hundred elephants of great tusks, many hundred slaves male and female, fourteen thousand black cows each with a white calf, and a house filled with wealth, but he would not agree. He said, ‘Suta, what I have said will surely happen. A false word destroys creatures, and sin would be mine. For the keeping of dharma I do not speak falsely. This will be your atonement for the sin of killing the calf.’”

Then Karna said to Shalya, “I cannot be frightened by words. If all the gods with Vasava should fight me, I feel no fear, let alone Pritha and Keshava. You have spoken many bitter words to me; therein lies the strength of a low man. For my friendship, for my affection, and for your being a friend, for these three reasons you still live, Shalya.”

Shalya said, “Karna, these are your ravings about the enemy. I could conquer the enemy in battle even without a thousand Karnas.” At this Karna spoke more bitter words, and then told out a further long censure of the lands of Madra, Vahika, and Aratta that he had heard from the mouths of brahmanas in Dhritarashtra’s court. In the end Shalya answered, “Karna, the abandoning of the afflicted and the selling of wives and children are the custom in the Anga lands whose king you are. Remember the faults that Bhishma named at the counting of the rathas and atirathas, and give up your anger. Brahmanas are found everywhere, kshatriyas everywhere, vaishyas and shudras too, and women firm in the vow of chastity everywhere. It cannot be that all the people of any country are sinful.”

Then King Duryodhana held Karna and Shalya back from their war of words, soothing the son of Radha like a friend and begging Shalya with joined hands. Your son calmed Karna, and Karna said no more. Shalya too turned his face toward the enemy. Then the son of Radha said to Shalya, smiling, “Drive on.”

The gist: Karna opens his two curses: that of Parashurama (that his brahmastra will fail him at the end, because he won the weapons in a brahmana’s disguise) and that of the brahmana (that his chariot-wheel will sink and fear will enter his heart for killing the homa cow’s calf). These two curses are the seeds of Karna’s final downfall. In the middle of the sharp exchange between Karna and Shalya, Duryodhana at last steps in, calms them both, and Shalya turns the chariot toward the field.

The two armies take formation

Sanjaya said, seeing the matchless array of the Parthas formed by Dhrishtadyumna, an array able to hold off all the enemy’s forces, Karna advanced with lion-roars and the fierce rumble of his chariot. He set his own army in a counter-array.

Kripa, the son of Sharadvata, and the ever-active Magadha, and Kritavarma of the Satvata line stood on the right wing. Shakuni and the great chariot-warrior Uluka guarded the army on their right with many fearless Gandhara horsemen. Thirty-four thousand chariots of the unretreating samshaptakas, taking your sons in their midst, all eager to kill Krishna and Arjuna, guarded the left wing. On their left stood the Kambojas, the Shakas, and the Yavanas, with chariots, horse, and foot, by the command of the charioteer’s son challenging Arjuna and Keshava.

At the center, at the mouth of that army, Karna stood guarding the place, clad in armor and adorned with armbands and garlands. Helped by his angry sons and drawing his bow again and again, that foremost of weapon-bearers shone at the mouth of the army. The mighty-armed Dushasana, of the fire of the sun or of flame, mounted on the neck of a great elephant and ringed by many armies, advanced to battle at the rear of the army. Behind him came Duryodhana himself, guarded by his own brothers, mounted on fine horses and clad in fine armor. Guarded by the united Madrakas and the radiant Kekayas, that king shone like Indra of the hundred sacrifices. Ashwatthama and other great chariot-warriors, and many ever-rutting elephants ridden by brave mlecchas, came behind that chariot-army.

Then Yudhishthira, seeing Karna at the mouth of the enemy army, said to Dhananjaya, “Arjuna, look at this vast array formed in battle by Karna. This great enemy army shines with its wings and sub-wings. Seeing this vast host, let such means be taken that it does not conquer us.” Arjuna answered with joined hands, “As you say, all shall be so. I will do the thing by which the enemy is destroyed. Killing their best warriors, I will accomplish their ruin.”

Yudhishthira said, “With that in mind, you advance toward the son of Radha, Bhimasena toward Suyodhana, Nakula toward Vrishasena, Sahadeva toward the son of Subala, Shatanika toward Dushasana, Satyaki, best of the Shinis, toward the son of Hridika, Kritavarma, and Pandya toward the son of Drona. I myself will fight Kripa. Let the sons of Draupadi, with Shikhandi, advance toward the rest of the Dhartarashtras.” Arjuna said “So be it,” gave his orders to his army, and himself advanced toward the mouth of the array.

On the chariot whose horses were the world-lord Agni, the chariot called Brahma’s among the gods because it first sprang from Brahma himself, the chariot that in ancient days had carried in turn Brahma, Ishana, Indra, and Varuna, mounted on that primal chariot, Keshava and Arjuna advanced to battle.

The gist: Karna formed a counter-array by the rule of Brihaspati, with Kripa, Kritavarma, and Magadha on the right wing, thirty-four thousand samshaptakas and the Kambojas, Shakas, and Yavanas on the left, Karna himself at the center, and Dushasana and Duryodhana at the rear. Yudhishthira set each chief Pandava warrior against a Kaurava rival, and Arjuna took on the killing of Karna. The two armies came face to face like the streams of the Ganga and the Yamuna.

The great battle erupts, and Karna’s slaughter of the Panchalas

Shalya, seeing Arjuna’s chariot come on, said again to Karna, “There it comes, the white-horsed, Krishna-driven chariot, irresistible to all armies, like the sure fruit of a deed. There comes the son of Kunti, killing his enemies on the road, the one you were asking about. Since a tumult loud as thunder is heard, it is surely Vasudeva and Dhananjaya. Karna, see these omens: the earth cut by Arjuna’s wheels seems to tremble, the flesh-eaters are crying out, and a terrible comet covers the sun. Surely thousands of kings will lie lifeless in the long sleep upon the earth.”

Shalya described Arjuna’s flag and the ape Hanuman seated on it, the twang of the Gandiva, and Krishna’s discus, mace, Sharnga bow, Panchajanya conch, and Kaustubha gem. “If, son of Radha, you succeed in killing the Keshava-driven, Gandiva-bearing warrior, then you will become our king. But Partha, challenged by the samshaptakas, is now turning toward them.” Karna said in anger, “Look, Partha is hemmed in on every side by the angry samshaptakas. Like the sun covered by clouds, he can no longer be seen. Sunk in that sea of warriors, Arjuna will surely perish.” Shalya said, “Who slays Varuna with water, or quenches fire with fuel? Arjuna cannot be conquered in battle even by the gods led by Indra and the asuras together.”

While the two were talking to each other in this way, the two armies clashed with fury like the streams of the Ganga and the Yamuna. The Pandava army, led by the white-horsed Dhrishtadyumna, looked most splendid. The sons of Draupadi, eager for battle, stood at the side of their uncle Dhrishtadyumna like the stars beside the moon.

Filled with wrath, Arjuna drew the Gandiva and fell on the samshaptakas. They too, eager to kill Arjuna, making death itself their goal, fell on Partha. Their clash with Arjuna was terrible past telling, just such as had once been between Arjuna and the nivatakavachas. Partha cut down chariots, horses, flags, elephants, foot soldiers, and enemy heads by the thousand. Partha destroyed those before him, then those far off, then those on the right and behind, like an angry Rudra destroying all creatures.

Meanwhile King Duryodhana, with his brothers and many great chariot-warriors of Madra, guarded Karna while he fought the Pandavas, the Panchalas, the Chedis, and Satyaki. Destroying that vast division and crushing many great chariot-warriors, Karna managed to torment Yudhishthira. Cutting through the armor, weapons, and bodies of thousands of enemies, sending them to heaven and winning great fame, Karna gave great joy to his friends.

Rushing swiftly on the Panchalas, Karna entered the Pandava army and killed seventy-seven Prabhadraka warriors. Then with twenty-five sharp arrows he killed twenty-five Panchalas. With his gold-winged arrows he killed Chedis by the hundreds and thousands. Then a vast host of Panchala chariots ringed him about on every side. With five irresistible arrows Karna killed five Panchala warriors, Bhanudeva, Chitrasena, Senavindu, Tapana, and Surasena. Cries of “Alas” and “Save us” rose in the Panchala army. Then ten Panchala great chariot-warriors surrounded Karna, and Karna killed them too in an instant.

A key to reading this (numbers and names): The samshaptakas are the warriors who swore to kill Arjuna or return only in death (from shap, to swear), and so are called unretreating. The Prabhadrakas were a distinct warrior-unit of the Panchalas. The numbers here (seventy-seven, twenty-five, thirty-four thousand) are given to measure the vastness of the slaughter on the field.

Karna’s two chariot-wheel guards, his sons Sushena and Satyasena, fought heedless of their lives. Karna’s eldest son, the great chariot-warrior Vrishasena, guarded his father’s rear himself. Then Dhrishtadyumna, Satyaki, the five sons of Draupadi, Vrikodara, Janamejaya, Shikhandi, and many Prabhadrakas, Chedis, Kekayas, Panchalas, the twins, and the Matsyas, all in their armor, fell on the son of Radha.

Sushena cut Bhimasena’s bow and pierced him in the chest with seven arrows. Then the wrathful Bhima took another bow, cut Sushena’s bow, pierced him with ten arrows, and pierced Karna in a blink with seventy sharp arrows. Then Bhima with ten arrows brought down Karna’s other son Bhanusena, with his horses, charioteer, weapons, and flag, before the eyes of his friends. That youth’s head, beautiful as the moon, cut off by a razor-arrow, looked like a lotus plucked from its stalk.

Satyaki killed Vrishasena’s charioteer with three arrows, cut his bow with a broad-headed arrow, and pierced his horses with seven. Vrishasena, fainting for a moment, rose again, and, stripped of charioteer, horses, and chariot, took sword and shield and fell on Satyaki. Satyaki cut away his sword and shield with ten arrows. Then Dushasana, seeing Vrishasena chariotless, took him up on his own chariot and carried him from that place, setting him on another chariot. Mounted on the other chariot, Vrishasena pierced the five sons of Draupadi with seventy arrows, Satyaki with five, Bhimasena with sixty-four, Sahadeva with five, Nakula with thirty, Shatanika with seven, Shikhandi with ten, and King Yudhishthira with a hundred. Satyaki, grandson of Shini, with eighty-one iron arrows stripped Dushasana of charioteer, horses, and chariot, and struck ten arrows into his forehead. The Kuru prince, mounted on another chariot, fought on.

The gist: When the great battle resumed, Karna drove into the Panchala army and killed seventy-seven Prabhadrakas, twenty-five Panchalas, and the five named warriors Bhanudeva and the rest. Many Pandava great chariot-warriors surrounded him together. A fierce arrow-battle raged among Karna’s sons (Sushena, Satyasena, Vrishasena, Bhanusena) and Bhima and Satyaki, in which Bhima cut off the head of Karna’s son Bhanusena. The leading warriors of both sides pierced one another with arrows past counting.

The Karna-Yudhishthira duel, and the king let go

Karna, ringed by thousands of chariots, elephants, horses, and foot, broke through the Pandava army toward Yudhishthira. Cutting off the heads, arms, and thighs of his enemies with sharp arrows, he pressed forward. The Dravida, Andhaka, and Nishada foot soldiers, urged on by Satyaki, fell on Karna, but, cut by his arrows, they fell together like a felled forest of sala trees. The Pandavas and Panchalas tried to hold Karna back, as disease is held back by charm and medicine, but Karna crushed them all and advanced again toward Yudhishthira. At last the Pandus, Panchalas, and Kekayas held him, and Karna could not pass them, as death cannot conquer the knowers of Brahma.

Then Yudhishthira, his eyes red with anger, said to Karna, “Karna, Karna, vain-sighted son of a charioteer, hear my words. You always challenge the ever-active Phalguna to battle. By the counsel of Dhritarashtra’s son you always oppose us. Today, in this fierce duel, I will empty you of your desire for battle.” Saying this, the son of Pandu pierced Karna with ten gold-winged iron arrows. Karna, with great care, pierced Yudhishthira with ten arrows shaped like a calf’s tooth. Pierced with contempt, Yudhishthira blazed with wrath like a fire fed with ghee. Setting a sharp, mountain-piercing arrow to his bow and drawing the string full back, he struck Karna’s left side with that arrow like the rod of Yama.

Sorely pained by the force of that blow, the mighty-armed Karna, his limbs loosened, let his bow drop from his hand and fainted on his chariot. Seeing Karna in this state, the vast army of Dhritarashtra cried “Alas” and “Save us,” and the faces of all the warriors went pale. Among the Pandavas rose lion-roars and cries of joy at the prowess of their king. But the cruel-mettled Karna, quickly recovering, set himself to destroy Yudhishthira. Drawing his bow Vijaya, he killed Yudhishthira’s two wheel-guards, the Panchala princes Chandradeva and Dandadhara, with two razor-arrows.

Yudhishthira pierced Karna again with thirty arrows, Sushena and Satyasena with three each, and every one of Karna’s guards with three straight arrows. Then the son of Adhiratha, laughing and shaking his bow, wounded the king’s body with a broad-headed arrow, pierced him with sixty arrows, and gave a loud lion-roar. Then many Pandava heroes rushed at Karna in fury to save the king: Satyaki, Chekitana, Yuyutsu, Shikhandi, the sons of Draupadi, the Prabhadrakas, the twins, Bhimasena, and warriors of many lands.

Surrounded on every side, Karna called up the brahmastra and filled all the directions with arrows. Like a blazing fire Karna ranged the field, burning that Pandava forest. Laughing, Karna cut Yudhishthira’s bow, then in a blink cut away his armor with ninety arrows. That gold-and-jewel-set armor, as it fell, looked as beautiful as a wind-driven cloud pierced by the rays of the setting sun. His armor cut, Yudhishthira, smeared with blood, in his fury hurled an iron shakti at Karna, which Karna cut in the sky with seven arrows.

Yudhishthira struck Karna’s two arms, his forehead, and his chest with four shaktis and roared again and again. Blood flowed from Karna’s wounds, and, enraged and hissing like a serpent, he cut the king’s flag, pierced the king with three broad-headed arrows, cut away both his quivers, and smashed his chariot to pieces. Then the king, on another chariot yoked with horses white as ivory with black tails, turned his face away and began to flee. His parshni-charioteer had been killed, and, deeply cast down, he could not stand before Karna.

The son of Radha pursued Yudhishthira, the son of Pandu, and with his fine hand, whose palm was graced with the auspicious signs of the thunderbolt, the umbrella, the goad, the fish, the tortoise, and the conch, touched the king’s shoulder and made to seize him by force. Then he remembered the words of Kunti. Then Shalya said, “Karna, do not seize this best of kings. The moment you seize him, he will burn both you and me to ashes.” Then Karna, laughing in mockery, said to the son of Pandu with contempt, “Son of Kunti, born in a noble house and keeping the duties of a kshatriya, why do you flee from battle in fear, wishing to save your life? I think you are not well-versed in the duties of a kshatriya. You are endowed with the strength of Brahma, devoted to the study of the Vedas and the performance of sacrifice. Son of Kunti, do not fight again, and do not come near heroic warriors. Go back to where Keshava and Arjuna are. Know this surely: Karna will never kill one like you.” Saying this, Karna set the son of Pandu free and began to destroy the Pandava army.

A key to reading this (the moral tangle): Karna seized Yudhishthira and then let him live; here Sanjaya points again to “the words of Kunti.” Karna had promised Kunti that he would not kill Yudhishthira and the other brothers but Arjuna (though at the level of the characters the secret of Karna’s birth is still hidden). Shalya’s warning and Karna’s restraint together lay bare that moral dilemma of the Mahabharata’s Karna, in which valor, the bond of a word, and contempt are all mixed together.

Bhima’s furious onslaught, and Karna’s swoon

At Yudhishthira’s flight the Chedis, the Pandavas, the Panchalas, and Satyaki followed him. The delighted Karna, with the Kauravas, pursued the fleeing army. Yudhishthira, mounting Shrutakirti’s chariot, watched Karna’s prowess. Then the angry Yudhishthira ordered his warriors, “Kill these enemies. Why are you idle?” Then the Pandava great chariot-warriors, led by Bhimasena, fell on your sons.

Karna too, seeing the Dhartarashtra army fleeing with all its kings, said to the king of Madra, “Drive toward Bhima’s chariot.” Shalya drove the swan-colored horses toward Vrikodara. Bhima, seeing Karna come, said to Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna, “Go and guard the virtuous king Yudhishthira. Let him escape great danger before my eyes. Today I will either kill Karna, or he will kill me. I tell you truly. Today I place the king in your hands as a sacred trust.”

Shalya said to Karna, “Karna, see the son of Pandu filled with wrath. Surely he wishes to vomit on you the anger he has stored up for years. I have never seen him in such a form, not even at the deaths of Abhimanyu and Ghatotkacha. Endowed with the fire of the world-destroying flame at the end of the age, his form seems able to hold off the three worlds.” Karna, laughing, said, “Your words are true. This Vrikodara is a hero and full of wrath. He is supreme in strength. In the city of Virata, by the strength of his own arms, he secretly killed Kichaka with all his kin. But this has been my wish all my life: that either I kill Arjuna, or Arjuna kills me. In this clash with Bhima that wish may be fulfilled today. If I kill Bhima, or leave him chariotless, then Partha will come before me. That will be the better thing for me.”

Then Karna and Bhima closed, and trumpets and drums rang out. The wrathful Bhima began to cut the army to pieces with sharp arrows. Karna struck the center of Bhima’s chest with arrows and covered him with an arrow-storm. Bhima too covered Karna with feathered arrows and pierced him with nine straight ones. Karna cut Bhima’s bow at the grip and pierced his chest with an unbreakable arrow. Bhima took another bow and pierced Karna with many sharp arrows. Karna pierced Bhima with twenty-five arrows. Then Bhima, his eyes red with wrath, set a mountain-piercing arrow to his bow, drew it to his ear, and loosed it; roaring like the thunderbolt, it pierced Karna as the thunderbolt pierces a mountain. Struck, Karna sat down fainting on the platform of his chariot. The king of Madra carried the fainting Karna out of the battle. Then Bhima drove the Dhartarashtra army before him as Indra drove the danavas.

A sub-tale: Anxious at Karna’s swoon, Duryodhana ordered his own brothers to guard the son of Radha, drowned in the fathomless sea of the peril of Bhima. Then Shrutarva, Durdhara, Kratha, Vivitsu, Vikata, Soma, Nanda, Upananda, Saha, and many other princes fell on Bhima in their wrath, like moths on a blazing fire. Bhima killed fifty great chariot-warriors along with five hundred other chariot-warriors, then with a single broad-headed arrow each cut off the heads of Vivitsu, Vikata, Saha, and Kratha, and sent Nanda and Upananda to the realm of Yama. The rest fled in fear.

Karna, recovering his senses, returned toward Bhima, and their tumultuous duel came a second time. Bhima covered Karna with an arrow-storm, and Karna pierced Bhima with nine iron arrows. Bhima, drawing to his ear, loosed seven arrows at Karna. One terrible arrow of Bhima’s pierced Karna’s armor and body, passed through, and buried itself in the earth like a serpent. Karna trembled in great pain like a mountain in an earthquake. Then the enraged Karna cut Bhima’s flag, sent his charioteer to the realm of Yama, cut his bow, and left Bhima chariotless.

Chariotless, Bhima leaped from his chariot with his mace and began to destroy your army as the wind destroys the autumn clouds. He killed seven hundred elephants with tusks like plough-poles, striking their heads, their temples, and their eyes. Then he crushed the fifty-two elephants of the son of Subala, Shakuni, destroyed a hundred fine chariots and several hundred foot soldiers, killed five hundred armored chariot-warriors, and then, with his mace, the three thousand horsemen sent by Shakuni; then, mounting another chariot, Bhima advanced again toward the son of Radha.

Meanwhile Karna covered the son of Dharma, Yudhishthira, with an arrow-storm, felled his charioteer, and pursued the fleeing king. The wrathful son of the wind, Bhima, covered Karna from behind with an arrow-storm. Karna turned back and rained arrows on Bhima. Then Satyaki came up beside Bhima’s chariot and began to torment Karna, who stood facing them. Those two best of bowmen, loosing beautiful arrows at each other, shone most splendidly. From those thousands of arrows neither the sun’s rays nor the directions could be seen.

The gist: In two tumultuous duels with Bhima, Karna fainted once, and Shalya carried him out of the fight. Chariotless, Bhima with his mace crushed seven hundred elephants, fifty-two more, a hundred chariots, and three thousand horsemen, and killed many of Duryodhana’s brothers (Vivitsu, Vikata, Saha, Kratha, Nanda, Upananda, and others). This part of the parva brings out Bhima’s furious wrath and Karna’s momentary defeat.

The river of blood, and Arjuna’s slaughter of the samshaptakas

Seeing the son of Subala, Kritavarma, Drona’s son, the son of Adhiratha, and Kripa locked with the Pandavas, the Kaurava army turned back to battle. The two armies clashed, roaring like many seas swollen with rain. The fight that began at midday, when the sun stood at the center of the sky, was such as we had neither heard of nor seen before. Between the Kurus and the Pandavas broke out that terrible war in which warriors called out to each other by name. Whatever there was to mock in a man’s mother or father or in his conduct, his enemy would say it to him in the battle.

Those kshatriyas, out of mutual hatred, began to slaughter one another. Chariot-hosts, horse-troops, foot, and elephants clashed together. Maces, iron clubs, kunapas, spears, small arrows, and rockets were hurled. The arrow-storm came down like swarms of locusts. The earth, covered with blood, looked beautiful like a field full of the red insects of the rainy season. It looked like a lovely young woman clad in white and dyed a deep red.

Cut heads, arms, thighs, earrings, and ornaments lay scattered on the ground. Elephants, tearing one another with their tusks, bathed in blood, looked like moving mountains. When the darkness of the arrow-storm fell, the warriors could not tell friend from foe. Then great rivers of blood flowed, whose rocks were the heads of warriors, whose moss was their hair, whose fish were their bones, and whose boats for crossing were bows, arrows, and maces. Flesh and blood were their mire. Those terrible rivers carried men to the realm of Yama. On every side flesh-eating creatures roared, and crows, vultures, and cranes roamed in delight. But the brave warriors, throwing off fear, kept their duty without fear, calling out their names and their lines.

In this fierce war, where many kshatriyas fell, the fierce twang of the Gandiva was heard above all in the place where the son of Pandu was destroying the samshaptakas, the Kosalas, and the Narayana host. Eager for victory, the samshaptakas rained arrows on Arjuna’s head. Partha held them off and killed many great chariot-warriors. Then Partha came before the well-armed Susharma. Susharma pierced Arjuna with ten arrows, pierced Janardana in the right arm with three, and pierced Arjuna’s flag with a broad-headed arrow. Then that huge ape Hanuman roared terribly and struck your army with fear, and it went idle with fright.

Then the samshaptakas surrounded Arjuna’s chariot, striking with force at its horses, wheels, axle, and every part, and roaring. Some seized Keshava’s arms, some tried to seize Partha on his chariot. Then Keshava, shaking his arms, threw them all off, as a wild elephant throws off those on its back. The enraged Partha, killing many chariot-warriors and foot, said to Krishna, “Krishna, see these countless samshaptakas, engaged in their terrible work though killed in thousands. There is no one on earth but me who could bear such a close attack upon his chariot.” Saying this, Vibhatsu blew his conch, and Krishna too blew his conch and filled the sky with its sound, and the samshaptaka army faltered in fear.

Then Partha, calling up again and again the weapon named naga, bound the feet of the samshaptakas. Their feet bound, they stood still as stones. Partha began to destroy them, as Indra of old destroyed the daityas in the Taraka war. Then Susharma called up the sauparna weapon of Garuda, at which countless birds came and devoured those serpents, and the samshaptaka army was freed from the binding of its feet. Freed, they loosed their weapons on Arjuna again. Susharma struck Arjuna in the chest with a straight arrow, then with three more, so that Arjuna sat down on his chariot-platform in pain and the army cried out “Partha is killed.”

Recovering, the white-horsed, Krishna-driven Partha called up the aindra weapon, from which thousands of arrows issued and began to destroy kings, elephants, horses, and warriors. Great fear spread among the samshaptakas and the cowherds. Partha, killing a full ten thousand warriors, took on the fire of a smokeless blazing flame. Then he killed fourteen thousand warriors, three thousand more, and three thousand elephants. Then the samshaptakas surrounded Dhananjaya again, making death or victory their goal.

A sub-tale: At one end of the field Shikhandi, in his wrath, began to rain arrows on Kripa, the grandson of Gautama. The weapon-master Kripa held off that storm, pierced Shikhandi with ten arrows, and then left him stripped of chariot, horses, and charioteer. Chariotless, Shikhandi took sword and shield and fell on the brahmana Kripa, but Kripa cut away his hundred-mooned shield. Then Suketu, the son of Chitraketu, came raining arrows on Kripa. Kripa pierced Suketu with thirty arrows, and then with a razor-arrow cut off the trembling prince’s head, adorned with its earrings and its helmet, which fell to the ground like a lump of flesh.

The gist: At midday the great battle reached its height, rivers of blood flowed, and the field became like the realm of Yama. At the other end Arjuna bound the samshaptakas’ feet with the naga weapon, Susharma freed them with the sauparna weapon, and at last Arjuna with the aindra weapon killed ten thousand, then fourteen thousand, then three thousand warriors and three thousand elephants. Kripa showed fierce valor against Shikhandi and Suketu. So the first day of Karna’s command moves on with terrible slaughter.

Source: the Mahabharata (Krishna-Dvaipayana Vyasa), Karna Parva; in the tradition of Gita Press, Gorakhpur.