Mahabharata · The Fall of Shalya

About 163 min read · 27,576 words

Karna had fallen. When Arjuna the ambidextrous cut down the son of the charioteer, Suyodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, sank into a bottomless sea of grief, and wherever he turned he saw only ruin. “Karna! Karna!” he cried, and with that lament on his lips he made his hard way back toward his own tents, the last surviving kings of his party at his side. They comforted him with sound counsel drawn from the scriptures, and still the memory of that death would not let his mind rest. Holding fate and necessity to be all-powerful, the lord of the Kurus set his heart on war. He installed Shalya, king of Madra, as supreme commander of his army by the proper rites, and that best of kings marched out for battle with the remnant of his host. Then the armies of the Kurus and the Pandavas met in a clash as terrible as the ancient war of the gods and the asuras. And Shalya, king of Madra, after working a great slaughter on the field, at last lost his vast army and was killed at noon by Yudhishthira. That is the heart of the day’s story, which Sanjaya now tells in full.

Sanjaya enters Hastinapura, and Dhritarashtra’s lament

At dawn Sanjaya rode out from the camp and entered Hastinapura, his mind heavy with grief and dread. As he passed through the gates he raised both arms in sorrow, and with trembling limbs he came into the royal house. “O king, with the slaughter of that great emperor we are all undone. Time is mighty and moves along crooked paths, for our friends, who had the strength of Indra, have been killed by the Pandavas.” Seeing Sanjaya return in this condition, the people of the city broke into loud weeping, and when the news of Duryodhana’s death reached them, even the children filled the four quarters with the sound of mourning. Men and women alike lost their senses in grief and ran here and there like people gone mad.

Sanjaya came into the royal chamber, where Dhritarashtra sat, that best of the Bharatas who had made his knowledge serve for eyes. Surrounded by his daughters-in-law, by Gandhari, by Vidura, and by other well-wishing kinsmen and friends, the king was brooding on the death of Karna. With a voice choked by tears Sanjaya said, “O foremost of Bharata’s line, I am Sanjaya. I bow to you. Shalya, king of Madra, has been killed. So too have Shakuni the son of Subala and Shakuni’s brave son Uluka. All the samshaptakas are dead, the Kambojas with the Shakas, the Mlecchas, the mountain-folk, and the Yavanas. The kings of the east and the south, of the north and the west, all are dead. Every prince is dead, O king. Duryodhana too has been killed by the son of Pandu, exactly as he had sworn. With his thighs broken, he now lies in the blood-soaked dust. Dhrishtadyumna is dead, and Shikhandi is beaten down. Uttamaujas, Yudhamanyu, the Prabhadrakas, the Panchalas, the Chedis, all are lost. Every one of your sons is dead, and the five sons of Draupadi as well. Vrishasena, the mighty son of Karna, has also been killed.

Sanjaya went on. “Those who had gathered here, all are dead. The elephants are destroyed, the car-warriors and the horses have fallen on the field. Very few of your side remain alive. On the Pandava side seven live: the five Pandava brothers, Vasudeva, and Satyaki. Among the sons of Dhritarashtra three live: Kripa, Kritavarma, and Ashwatthama the son of Drona. O king, out of all the akshauhinis gathered on your side, only these three car-warriors remain, and all the rest are gone.” At those cruel words Dhritarashtra fell to the ground in a faint. As the king fell, Vidura too, overcome by the king’s sorrow, sank to the floor. Gandhari and all the women of the Kuru house dropped where they stood. That whole royal assembly lay still upon the ground, senseless, like figures painted across some vast canvas.

A key to reading this (the akshauhini): An akshauhini is the unit of a complete fourfold army, by tradition 21,870 chariots, as many elephants, 65,610 horses, and 109,350 foot-soldiers. In today’s terms it stands for something close to a full field army, two or three hundred thousand fighters. Eighteen akshauhinis were mustered for the war of the Mahabharata, and of them only a handful of warriors now remained.

After a while Dhritarashtra, with trembling limbs and a heart wrung with grief, turned his face from side to side and said to Vidura, “O learned Kshatta, O man of vast wisdom, you are my only refuge now. I am left without a master and without sons.” Saying this, he fainted again. His kinsmen sprinkled cool water on him and fanned him. After a long time, comforted a little, the king, scorched by the death of his sons, drew heavy breaths like a snake sealed in a jar and fell silent. Then he said, “Let all the women go, and the illustrious Gandhari, and these friends. My mind has become deeply unsettled.” Slowly, again and again, with trembling hands, Vidura sent the women away, and the kinsmen too, seeing the king in that state, withdrew.

When the women had gone, Dhritarashtra, son of Ambika, sank into a grief deeper than before, and breathing out sighs like smoke, working his arms again and again, he began to lament. “O Suta, the news you have brought me is full of great sorrow. The Pandavas are all safe, and no harm has touched them in the war. Surely my hard heart is made of the very core of the thunderbolt, that it does not shatter when it hears that my sons have fallen. Come, come to me, O king of kings, come to me who am now without a protector. O mighty-armed one, what will become of me without you? Why do you lie lifeless in the dust like some common and luckless king, you who left behind you all those assembled monarchs? When I wake in the fullness of time, who will greet me again and again with those loving and honoring words, O father, O great king, O lord of the world, and take me by the throat with tear-wet eyes and ask, O joy of the Kurus, give me your command?”

A sub-tale: Dhritarashtra remembers the boastful words Duryodhana used to repeat. “This wide Earth is as much ours as it is the sons of Pritha’s. Bhagadatta, Kripa, Shalya, the two princes of Avanti, Jayadratha, Bhurishravas, Somadatta, Bahlika, Ashwatthama, the king of the Bhojas, the king of Magadha, Brihadbala, the king of Kashi, Shakuni the son of Subala, thousands of Mlecchas, Shakas, and Yavanas, Sudakshina the king of the Kambojas, the king of the Trigartas, grandfather Bhishma, Drona, Kripa, Shrutayu, Ayutayu, Jalasandha, Alayudha, and Alambusha, these and countless other kings have taken up arms for me, ready to give their lives in battle. Any one of them alone could hold the Pandavas back. Karna and I together will kill them. Their leader Vasudeva will not put on armor, he has told me so himself.” “On the strength of those words,” Dhritarashtra says, “I believed the Pandavas would fall in war. Yet now that all these heroes are dead, what is this but fate?”

“When the heroic Bhishma, lord of the world, met his death at the hands of Shikhandi, a lion cut down by a jackal, what is this but fate? When Drona, the brahmana who was master of every weapon, was killed by the Pandavas, when Bhurishravas fell, and Somadatta and Bahlika, when Bhagadatta, so skilled in fighting from an elephant’s back, was slain, when Jayadratha fell, and Sudakshina, and Jalasandha of the line of Puru, Shrutayu, Ayutayu, the supreme archer the king of the Pandyas, Brihadbala, the king of Magadha, Ugrayudha, Vinda and Anuvinda of Avanti, the king of the Trigartas, the countless samshaptakas, Alambusha, Alayudha, the son of Rishyashringa, the Narayana cowherd-soldiers, thousands of Mlecchas, Shakuni and the mighty Uluka, when all of these were killed, what is this but fate? Surely man is born under the rule of fate. I am a luckless man, and so I am left without children. Now nothing is left me but the forest. When Duryodhana, Shalya, Duhshasana, Vivinshati, and the mighty Vikarna are dead, how shall I bear the roars of that Bhimasena, who alone killed my hundred sons?”

The gist: After Karna’s fall, Duryodhana made Shalya his commander and marched out to war, and on that same day both Shalya and Duryodhana were killed. Sanjaya carries the news to Hastinapura, where Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, and the whole court fall senseless. The blind king’s lament sways between love for his sons and a dawning sense of fate, and he remembers the warnings of Vidura that he had chosen not to hear.

The rout after Karna’s fall, and Duryodhana’s resolve

Dhritarashtra asked Sanjaya whom his warriors had made commander after Karna fell, and how the king of Madra and Duryodhana had come to be killed. Sanjaya said, “Hear me, O king. After the son of the charioteer had been struck down by the glorious son of Pandu, and after your army had broken and fled again and again, the son of Pritha roared like a lion. In that hour a great terror entered the hearts of your sons. Once Karna was dead, there was no warrior left in your army who could gather the ranks and set them in order again. They were like traders drowning in a shoreless sea without a raft, like a herd of deer harried by a lion. Losing their weapons and their armor, they lost their senses too, and could not tell which way to run. Casting fearful glances all around, many of them struck down their own comrades, thinking that Arjuna or Bhima was on their heels.”

“Seeing his army flee in terror of Bhimasena, Duryodhana cried ‘Alas!’ and ‘Oh!’ and said to his driver, ‘If I take up my bow and hold my place at the rear of the army, Arjuna will not be able to pass me. So drive the horses hard. When I show my strength in battle, the son of Kunti, Dhananjaya, will no more get past me than the sea gets past its shores. Today I will kill Arjuna and Govinda, and the arrogant Bhima, and the rest of my foes, and pay back my debt to Karna.’ Hearing words worthy of a brave and honorable man, the driver gently urged on the gold-harnessed horses.”

“At that time twenty-five thousand foot-soldiers, who had lost their elephants and horses and cars, advanced slowly for the fight. Then Bhimasena, filled with rage, and Dhrishtadyumna the son of Prishata, with the help of the fourfold host, surrounded them and destroyed them with arrows. The foot-soldiers fought bravely, calling out the names of the two Pandava heroes and challenging them. Hemmed in by them, Bhima grew angry. He leapt down at once from his car and fought on with his mace. Trusting to the strength of his arms, the son of Kunti, keeping to the rules of righteous war, spared the enemies who rode in chariots and fought only those on foot. With that heavy mace, all of iron, decked with gold, fitted with a sling, terrible as the destroyer at the end of an age, Bhima killed them all like Death himself. Bereft of friends and kinsmen, ready to give up their lives, those foot-soldiers rushed at Bhima like moths into a burning flame, and perished as creatures perish under the gaze of the destroyer. Sword and mace in hand, Bhima ranged over the field like a hawk and made an end of those twenty-five thousand men of yours.”

“Meanwhile the mighty Dhananjaya pressed on toward the Kaurava car-divisions. The two sons of Madri and the powerful Satyaki, eager to kill Shakuni, rushed at him and destroyed his countless cavalry. Then Dhananjaya drove into the midst of the Kaurava chariots, drawing that Gandiva bow known through the three worlds. Seeing that car with its white horses and its dark-skinned driver bearing Arjuna toward them, your army fled in fear. Dhrishtadyumna, greatest of car-warriors among the Panchalas, with Bhimasena in the van, made an end of that band of heroes and stood victorious.”

“When your army had thus been broken, Duryodhana, lord of the Kurus, fell upon friend and foe alike. He challenged all the Pandavas to battle, as long ago the asura Bali had challenged all the gods. The Pandavas gathered together, and rebuking him again and again in their anger, loosing weapon after weapon, fell upon the roaring Duryodhana. But without any fear Duryodhana struck his enemies with arrows. The valor we saw in your son that day was a marvel, for all the Pandavas together could not overcome him.”

“Halting his fleeing army, Duryodhana said to those warriors, ‘I see no place on earth or on any mountain where, if you flee, the Pandavas will not kill you. What good is running? The Pandava army is very small now, and both the Krishnas are badly wounded. If we all stand firm here, victory is certain. If you flee, the Pandavas will hunt you down, you sinners, and kill you all. Death in battle is the better lot for us. To die on the field fighting by the law of the Kshatriya is sweet, such a death brings no grief, and a man enjoys everlasting happiness in the world beyond. For a Kshatriya there is no deed more sinful than flight from the field. There is no better road to heaven than the law of war.’ As the king finished these words, those great Kshatriya car-warriors, unable to bear their own defeat, fell once more upon the Pandavas.”

A key to reading this (the samshaptakas): The samshaptakas were warriors who took a mutual oath before entering the field: to kill the enemy or to die themselves, and never to show their backs. In the Mahabharata, under the lead of Susharma king of the Trigartas, the samshaptakas had vowed to draw Arjuna away from the main battle, so that the rest of the Kaurava host could fight unhindered.

The gist: After Karna’s death the Kaurava army loses its bearings and flees. Duryodhana has his driver wheel the chariot back and takes up the front himself, vowing to repay his debt to Karna. Bhima crushes twenty-five thousand foot-soldiers with his mace. In the end Duryodhana rallies his fleeing men with arguments of duty, disgrace, and heaven, and holds them once more to the fight.

Kripa’s plea for peace, and Duryodhana’s refusal

Looking on the field, strewn with fallen cars and slaughtered elephants and foot-soldiers, terrible as a playground of Rudra, and seeing his son Duryodhana draw back with a heart heavy with grief, Kripa, that leader of the Kurus, rich in years and virtue, full of compassion and skilled in speech, went to Duryodhana in his distress and said, “O Duryodhana, O son of Bharata’s line, hear these words, and if they seem right to you, act on them. There is no better road than the law of war. Yet after the fall of Bhishma, Drona, the great car-warrior Karna, and Jayadratha, after the fall of your brothers and your son Lakshmana, what is left for us to do? All those on whom we laid the whole burden of the kingdom have gone to the world of Brahma.

“Even while all those heroes lived, Arjuna could not be beaten. That mighty-armed one who has made Krishna his eyes, not even the gods can conquer. At the sight of his ape-bannered standard our vast army has always trembled in fear. The lion-roar of Bhimasena, the blast of the Panchajanya, and the twang of Gandiva kill our hearts within us. Today is the seventeenth day of this fearful war. The many divisions of your army have scattered like the clouds of autumn. Without cause you did the righteous Pandavas many crooked wrongs, and now the fruit of those deeds has come home.”

Kripa went on. “Let the one who is growing weak seek peace through treaty and accord, and let the one who is growing strong make war. That is the counsel of Brihaspati. In the strength of our army we are now the lesser of the two. So, O lord, in my judgment peace with the Pandavas is the better course for us. If our lordship can be kept even by bowing to Yudhishthira, that is what serves us best. Yudhishthira is full of mercy. At the request of Dhritarashtra the son of Vichitravirya and of Govinda, he will let you remain king. Whatever Hrishikesha says, Yudhishthira and Arjuna and Bhimasena will surely accept. I do not say this out of any low motive, nor to save my own life. I say only what I judge to be for your good. In the hour of your death you will remember these words.” Saying this, the aged son of Sharadvat wept, and in his grief seemed almost to lose his senses.

After some thought Duryodhana answered. “You have said what a friend should say. You have fought for me without a care for your own life. Yet your words please me no more than medicine pleases a dying man. We stripped the son of Pandu of his kingdom before, and beat him at dice. Why should he trust us again? When Krishna came to us as an envoy, we deceived him too. Why should Hrishikesha believe my words? The princess Krishna wept aloud in the middle of the assembly. Krishna will never forget that deed. Arjuna is stricken with grief at the death of Abhimanyu. Why, even at my asking, should he do me any good? Bhimasena has sworn a fearful oath. He may break, but he will not bend. Draupadi, whom Duhshasana dragged so cruelly before them all in a single garment while her season was upon her, the Pandavas cannot forget, and they cannot be turned aside from war.”

Duryodhana went on. “I have enjoyed the rule of this whole Earth to the edge of the sea. How shall I now enjoy some quiet kingdom by the grace of the Pandavas? I who shone like the sun over the heads of all kings, how shall I now walk behind Yudhishthira like a slave? I have offered many sacrifices, given fees to the brahmanas, fulfilled every desire, heard the Vedas recited, set my foot on the heads of my enemies. I have paid my debt to my forefathers and to the law of the Kshatriya. Fame is the one thing worth winning, and it is won by war and by no other means. For a Kshatriya to die at home in his bed, worn down by disease and old age, is a shameful and sinful thing. I will go to the world of Indra by the road of righteous war. This is no time to behave like a eunuch. This is the time for war.” When they heard these words, all the Kshatriyas present cried “Well said, well said,” and praised the king.

“Grieving not at all over their defeat, resolved to show their courage, they were all filled with fresh spirit. Harnessing their beasts, the Kauravas that night made camp at a place a little short of two yojanas from the field. Reaching a lovely tableland at the foot of the Himavat, on the bank of the red-watered Sarasvati, they bathed and quenched their thirst with the water. Heartened by your son, they waited at their resting place.”

A key to reading this (the yojana): The yojana is an old unit of distance, usually reckoned at somewhere between eight and nine kilometers. “A little short of two yojanas” means about fifteen kilometers from the field, toward the foot of the Himavat (the Himalaya), where a red-tinged stream of the Sarasvati ran.

The gist: The aged Kripa, moved by both compassion and statecraft, advises Duryodhana to make peace with the Pandavas, arguing from the weakness of the army and the mercy in Yudhishthira’s nature. Duryodhana hears him with respect and refuses. After the dice, the insult to Krishna the envoy, and the stripping of Draupadi, he says, trust and reconciliation are impossible. He chooses war, for fame and for heaven. Here the moral complexity of the Mahabharata comes into the open, as Duryodhana counts up his own crimes even while he justifies the war.

The consecration of Shalya as commander

On that tableland at the foot of the Himavat, Shalya, Chitrasena, the great car-warrior Shakuni, Ashwatthama, Kripa, Kritavarma of the Satwata line, Sushena, Arishtasena, Dhritasena, Jayatsena, and all the other kings passed the night. After the death of Karna, in their dread of the Pandavas who now longed for victory, your sons could find peace nowhere but among the hills of the Himavat. Firm in their resolve for war, all those kings did honor to King Duryodhana in the presence of Shalya and said, “You must appoint some man commander for us and then fight the enemy, for under his guard we may yet conquer our foes.”

Then Duryodhana, without stepping down from his car, went to Ashwatthama, that best of car-warriors, master of every rule of war, terrible as the destroyer himself. He came to the son of Drona, a man of lovely limbs, his neck marked with the three lines of a conch, sweet of speech, with eyes like the petals of an open lotus, one whom the Maker seemed to have fashioned with great care by gathering into him every good thing in creation. Reaching him, Duryodhana said, “O son of my teacher, today you are our highest refuge. Tell me, whom shall we make commander now, so that with him at our head we may all together conquer the Pandavas?”

The son of Drona answered, “Let Shalya be the leader of our army. In descent, in valor, in energy, in fame, in beauty, in every quality, he is the greater man. Bound by the debt of the honor we did him, he has left the sons of his own sister, the Pandavas, and taken our side. Lord of a vast host, that mighty-armed one is a second Kartikeya, the commander of the gods. Make that king our commander, and we shall win as the gods won when they made the unconquerable Skanda their commander.” When they heard these words of the son of Drona, all the kings surrounded Shalya and cried out his praises.

A sub-tale: Shalya was king of the land of Madra and brother of Madri, the mother of Nakula and Sahadeva, which makes him the Pandavas’ own uncle on their mother’s side. Before the war he was marching to join the Pandavas, but along the way Duryodhana secretly gave his army such a lavish welcome that Shalya, delighted, began to offer him a boon, and Duryodhana asked in return that Shalya fight on his side. Bound by the debt of that hospitality, Shalya stands with the Kauravas against his own nephews. That is why Ashwatthama calls him one who “has left the sons of his own sister.”

Then Duryodhana came down from his car, joined his palms, and said to Shalya, who sat upon his own chariot like Drona or Bhishma, “O friend of your friends, the time has come when the wise test those who come to them in the guise of friends, to see whether they are true friends or not. You are a hero. Become commander at the head of our army. When you enter the battle, the Pandavas and their allies will lose heart, and the Panchalas will fail.” Shalya answered, “O lord of the Kurus, whatever you ask, that I will do. My life, my kingdom, my wealth, all are in your service.” Duryodhana said, “O uncle, I beg of you the office of commander. O best of warriors, guard us beyond compare, as Skanda guarded the gods in war. Destroy our enemies as Indra destroyed the danavas.”

Shalya answered, “O mighty-armed Duryodhana, O best of the eloquent, hear me. You count both the Krishnas, Krishna and Arjuna, among the foremost of car-warriors. Yet the two of them together are not my equal in strength of arm, and the Pandavas still less. When my wrath is roused I can face the whole world in battle, gods and asuras and men together. I will conquer the sons of Pritha and the Somakas in war, all of them together. Beyond any doubt I will be the leader of your army. I will build such a battle-array that our enemies will not break through it. Of that there is no question.”

Then Duryodhana, glad at heart, sprinkled the holy water over the king of Madra in the midst of his army, by the rite the scriptures set down. As Shalya was consecrated to the office of commander, lion-roars went up in your army and instruments of every kind were sounded and blown. The Kaurava warriors, with the Madrakas among them, were filled with joy, and all cried out in praise of King Shalya, “Victory to you, may you live long, kill all our enemies.” Shalya said, “Today I will either kill the Pandavas and all the Panchalas in war, or I will be killed by them and go to heaven. Today let the world watch me range the field without fear. Today let the sons of Pritha, and the Siddhas, and the Charanas see the strength of my arms. Passing beyond Drona, Bhishma, and the son of the charioteer, I will range this battle for your pleasure.”

Once Shalya had become commander, no one in your army felt Karna’s loss any longer. They were glad and joyful, as though the sons of Pritha had already fallen into the power of the king of Madra and been killed. That night they slept in peace. In the other camp, hearing the shouts of joy from your army, Yudhishthira said to the Vrishni hero Krishna, “O Madhava, the son of Dhritarashtra has made Shalya, king of Madra, the leader of his army, a warrior whom all the fighters hold in the deepest honor. Knowing this, do what you judge to be best. You are our leader and our guardian.”

Then Vasudeva said, “O Bharata, I know Artayani, that is Shalya, well. He is valiant, of great energy, of vast renown, master of every art of war, and swift of hand. I judge that in battle the king of Madra is the equal of Bhishma, Drona, or Karna, or even greater. Search as I may, I see no fit match for Shalya. In strength he stands above Shikhandi, Arjuna, Bhima, Satyaki, and Dhrishtadyumna. Like the wrathful destroyer at the end of the world, he will range the field without fear. O tiger among men, apart from you I see no one to stand against him. So you yourself must kill Shalya, as Indra killed Shambara. Do not soften here at the thought that this man is your uncle. Keep the law of the Kshatriya before you and kill the king of Madra. Having crossed the shoreless seas that were Bhishma, Drona, and Karna, do not now drown in the little pool that is Shalya.”

A key to reading this (Artayani): Artayani is one of Shalya’s names, taken to come from his lineage. Krishna calls him by this name. The “little pool,” literally the water in a hollow left by a cow’s hoof, is a well-known image: having crossed such vast seas as Bhishma, Drona, and Karna, it would be folly to drown in a small puddle. Yet Krishna warns that this small-seeming pool is deadly all the same.

Saying this, Keshava, honored by the Pandavas in the evening, went off to his own tent. When he had gone, Yudhishthira the Righteous dismissed his brothers and the Somakas, and slept that night in peace, as an elephant rests when the arrows have been drawn from its body. Glad at the fall of Karna, the Pandavas and the Panchalas slept easily that night, like men who had reached the far shore.

The gist: On Ashwatthama’s recommendation, Duryodhana asks Shalya to become commander. Shalya accepts, calling himself greater even than the two Krishnas, and is consecrated by the proper rites. In the other camp Krishna warns Yudhishthira that Shalya is a warrior greater even than Bhishma, Drona, and Karna, and so Yudhishthira must set aside the pull of kinship and kill Shalya himself, for that is the destined way to Shalya’s death.

The array of the eighteenth day, and the strength of the two armies

When the night had passed, Duryodhana said to all his soldiers, “O great car-warriors, take up your arms.” At the king’s command the warriors put on their mail, some yoked the horses to their cars, and the elephants were caparisoned. Then all your warriors, armored, with death for their aim, stood ready at their appointed places. With the king of Madra for their leader, the great car-warriors of the Kauravas divided their companies and stood in their several divisions. Then Kripa, Kritavarma, the son of Drona, Shalya, Shakuni the son of Subala, and the rest of the surviving kings met with your son and resolved together that none of them would fight the Pandavas alone. They said, “Whoever among us fights the Pandavas single and unsupported, or abandons a comrade in the fight, shall be stained with the five great sins and all the lesser ones. We will all fight the enemy together.”

Dhritarashtra asked how strong each army had been after the fall of Bhishma, Drona, and Karna, when the two hosts had worn thin and the sons of Pritha grew wrathful again. Sanjaya said, “Hear me, O king. Eleven thousand chariots, ten thousand seven hundred elephants, a full two hundred thousand horses, and three million foot, this was the strength of your army. And six thousand chariots, six thousand elephants, ten thousand horses, and one million foot, this was the strength left to the Pandava army in the war. It was with these forces that the two sides faced each other for battle.”

A key to reading this (the strength of the armies, in modern terms): Kaurava side: 11,000 chariots, 10,700 elephants, 200,000 horses, 3,000,000 foot. Pandava side: 6,000 chariots, 6,000 elephants, 10,000 horses, 1,000,000 foot. The figures may sound like exaggeration to a modern reader, but the sense is clear: on the eighteenth day the Kaurava army was still nearly three times the Pandava host in numbers, and yet, in leadership and morale, it was a thing already broken.

With the king of Madra in front, filled with rage and the desire for victory, your army advanced against the Pandavas. Shalya, in his armor, moved to the head of the array with the brave Madrakas and the invincible sons of Karna. On the left was Kritavarma, ringed by the Trigartas; on the right, Kripa of Gautama’s line with the Shakas and Yavanas; behind, Ashwatthama ringed by the Kambojas; and in the center, Duryodhana, guarded by the best of the Kuru warriors. Shakuni and the great car-warrior Uluka moved with them, ringed by a vast cavalry.

The great archers of the Pandavas split into three bands and fell upon your army. Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, and the great car-warrior Satyaki rushed with great speed against Shalya’s division. King Yudhishthira, with his own force, fell upon Shalya alone, longing to kill him. Arjuna the great archer sprang at Kritavarma and the samshaptakas. Bhimasena and the Somaka car-warriors advanced against Kripa. The two sons of Madri advanced against Shakuni and Uluka.

The gist: On the eighteenth day the Kauravas set their array with Shalya in front, swearing the oath never to fight alone. Sanjaya counts the strength of the two armies; the Kauravas are three times as many. The Pandavas split into three bands and charge; Yudhishthira marks Shalya for his own.

The great slaughter, and the river of blood

Then a battle broke out between the Kurus and the Srinjayas as terrible as the old war of the gods and the asuras. Men, cars, elephants, elephant-riders, and thousands of horsemen crashed together. There rose from the elephants, dreadful of shape, a roar as awful as the thunder of clouds in the rains. Some car-warriors, struck by the elephants, were flung from their cars; some heroes, driven off by the maddened beasts, fled. Trained car-warriors, with their arrows, sent the cavalry and the foot-soldiers to the realm of Yama.

Arms cut from the bodies of men, thick as elephants’ trunks, sprang up and fell writhing and rolling on the ground. The sound of heads falling on the field was like the fall of palm fruit. Strewn with those severed heads, red with blood, the Earth seemed decked with golden lotuses. With the severed arms, smeared with sandal-paste and decked with costly bracelets, the Earth looked as though it were adorned with golden posts set up in honor of Indra. The field filled with the severed thighs of kings, each like the trunk of an elephant.

A river began to flow across the field, running toward the world of the dead. Blood was its water, chariots its whirlpools, banners its trees, bones its gravel, the arms of warriors its crocodiles, bows its current, elephants its great boulders and horses its small ones. Fat and marrow were its mire, parasols its swans, and maces its rafts. That fearful river, delight to the brave and terror to the coward, its banks lined with Kurus and Srinjayas, went flowing on. In that grim battle, where no one spared a thought for anyone, Arjuna and Bhimasena struck their enemies dumb with dread.

The gist: The battle of the eighteenth day turns into a great slaughter. Sanjaya paints the field in its full horror, the Earth covered with severed heads and arms and thighs, and that river of blood in which weapons and bodies themselves become water and mire and boulders. This is Vyasa’s way with the simile, binding the terror of war into a picture of beauty and so making it more terrible still.

Nakula slays Chitrasena and the sons of Karna

The unconquerable Nakula closed with Chitrasena. Both were fine archers, and both began to drench each other with showers of arrows, like two clouds risen in the south and the north pouring down their rain. It was hard to tell the two apart. Then Chitrasena, with a sharp broad-headed arrow, cut Nakula’s bow at the grip. Without fear the son of Karna struck the bowless Nakula on the forehead with three gold-winged arrows, and with some others sent his horses to the realm of Yama, and with three arrows each brought down his standard and his driver. With those three shafts fixed in his brow, Nakula shone like a mountain of three peaks.

Stripped of car and bow, the hero Nakula took up his sword and, like a lion leaping from a mountain crag, sprang down from his chariot. Running on foot, he caught the enemy’s rain of arrows on his shield, then reached Chitrasena’s car and, before the eyes of all the soldiers, climbed onto it. The son of Pandu cut from Chitrasena’s trunk his head, adorned with earrings, with its fine nose and wide eyes and its crown. Bright as the sun, Chitrasena fell back behind his car.

Seeing Chitrasena killed, two other sons of Karna, Sushena and Satyasena, both great car-warriors, beholding their brother slain, rushed at Nakula with a rain of sharp arrows, like two tigers in a deep wood upon an elephant. Though pierced with arrows, the hero Nakula, glad at heart, took up another bow and another car and, like the wrathful destroyer, stood firm in the fight and cut off Satyasena’s four horses and his bow. But Sushena, laughing, cut Nakula’s terrible bow with a razor-headed arrow. Mad with rage, Nakula took up another bow, pierced Sushena with five arrows, and his standard with one.

Then the mighty car-warrior Nakula, standing on his car, took up a lance with a golden shaft and a keen point, soaked in oil, gleaming bright, that seemed to lick out its tongue again and again like a venomous serpent. Lifting it, he hurled it at Satyasena. The lance pierced Satyasena’s heart and broke it into a hundred pieces, and Satyasena, his life and his senses gone, fell from his car to the ground. Seeing his brother killed, Sushena, mad with rage, stripped Nakula of his car and rained arrows on the son of Pandu as he fought on foot.

Seeing Nakula carless, the great car-warrior Sutasoma, son of Draupadi, rushed there to save his father. Climbing onto Sutasoma’s car, Nakula, shining like a lion on a mountain, took up another bow and fought Sushena. Then Nakula took a sharp arrow with a crescent head and loosed it with great force at the son of Karna, and with it, before all the soldiers, struck Sushena’s head from his trunk. It was a marvelous deed. Killed thus at the hands of the glorious Nakula, the son of Karna fell like a tall tree on a riverbank torn away by the force of the current. Seeing the sons of Karna slain and the valor of Nakula, your army broke and fled in fear.

A sub-tale: Many of Karna’s sons were killed in this great war. His eldest and most famous, Vrishasena, had fallen at the hands of Arjuna, as Sanjaya has already reported at the outset. Here, in the fighting of the Shalya Parva, three more sons of Karna, Chitrasena, Satyasena, and Sushena, meet a hero’s death in a single day at the hands of one man, Nakula, following their father. This slaughter of father and sons on one and the same side sharpens the tragedy of the Mahabharata, where a whole house can be wiped out in little time.

But their commander, the heroic king of Madra, guarded those fleeing troops. Rallying his army once more, Shalya stood without fear, roaring like a lion and making the fearful twang of his bow. Guarded by that firm bowman, your army took heart and fell once more upon the enemy.

The gist: Nakula reaches the height of his valor, killing Chitrasena and then two more sons of Karna, Satyasena and Sushena. Once carless, he is saved by Draupadi’s son Sutasoma. The fall of Karna’s sons sets the Kaurava army to flight, but Shalya rallies it and sets it on its feet again.

Shalya’s ferocious battle, and the mace duel of Bhima and Shalya

Seeing his army weakened and helpless as a cow stuck fast in the mire, Shalya, longing to lift it up, advanced against the Pandava host. In that hour many evil omens appeared. The Earth with its mountains shook and gave out fearful sounds; meteors, tearing the sky, fell to the ground; Venus and Mars, with Mercury, rose behind the Pandavas and before the Kaurava kings; flames seemed to leap from the points of the weapons; crows and owls settled on the heads and standards of the warriors.

With unshaken mind, Shalya poured a dense rain of arrows on Yudhishthira the son of Kunti, like the thousand-eyed Indra pouring down rain. He pierced Bhimasena, the five sons of Draupadi, Dhrishtadyumna, the two sons of Madri, Satyaki the grandson of Shini, and Shikhandi, each with ten gold-winged arrows. Shalya’s arrows fell like swarms of bees or flights of locusts, striking like the thunderbolt. The Prabhadrakas and the Somakas were seen falling in thousands under his arrows. The Pandava army, cut down thus by Shalya, ran to Yudhishthira for protection.

Seeing Shalya struck at from every side by the sons of Pritha, Kritavarma and Kripa rushed there in fury; Uluka, Shakuni, Ashwatthama, and all your sons guarded Shalya. Kritavarma, king of the Bhojas, killed Bhimasena’s tawny horses. Bereft of his horses, the son of Pandu got down from his car and fought on with his mace, like the destroyer with his club upraised. The king of Madra killed Sahadeva’s horses, and Sahadeva killed Shalya’s son with his sword. Then Shalya in his fury made a slaughter of many Somakas and Pandavas, and harried Yudhishthira with many sharp arrows.

Then the heroic Bhima, biting his lower lip, mad with rage, took up his mace to kill Shalya. That mace was like the rod of Yama, dreadful as the Night of Doom, a killer of the lives of elephants and horses and men, wrapped in cloth of gold, blazing like a fallen meteor, fitted with a sling, terrible as a venomous serpent, hard as the thunderbolt, made all of iron, smeared with sandal and sweet-scented pastes. With that same mace the son of Kunti had once challenged Kubera, lord of Alaka, on Mount Kailasa, and slain many magic-wielding Guhyakas on Gandhamadana when he went to gather mandara flowers for Draupadi. Lifting that same famous mace, eight-cornered, set with diamonds and gems, like the thunderbolt of Indra, Bhima fell upon Shalya. With that mace of dreadful sound he crushed Shalya’s four swift horses.

Then, in his wrath, Shalya hurled a spear at Bhima’s broad chest and roared aloud. The spear pierced the armor of the son of Pandu and entered his body. But without fear Bhima drew the weapon out and with it pierced the chest of Shalya’s driver. Vomiting blood, the driver fell, his heart failing. Then the king of Madra came down from his car and looked at Bhima in dismay. Seeing his deed come to nothing, Shalya was amazed, and with a quiet mind took up his own mace and cast his glance at the enemy.

Seeing his driver fall, Shalya quickly took up his iron mace and stood unmoving as a bull. Bhima too, mace in hand, rushed at Shalya, blazing like the fire at the end of an age, like the noose-bearing destroyer, like the trident-bearing Mahadeva. In that hour thousands of conches and trumpets and lion-roars rang out. The warriors of both armies, beholding those two heroes, cried “Well done, well done,” in praise, and said, “No one but the king of Madra, or Rama of the Yadus, the giver of joy, can bear the force of Bhima; and no one but Bhima can bear the strength of the king of Madra’s mace.”

A sub-tale: The “Rama” the trumpet-blowers name here is Balarama, the elder brother of Krishna, who was the master-teacher of the mace. Both Bhima and Duryodhana were his pupils. In the war Balarama chose to stay neutral and went off on pilgrimage; he returns only in the last part of the Shalya Parva, at the very hour of the mace duel between Bhima and Duryodhana. When the warriors say here that “no one but the king of Madra or Rama can bear Bhima,” they point to the three summits of the art of the mace: Balarama, Bhima, and Shalya.

Then the two of them, Bhima and the king of Madra, roaring like bulls, springing up again and again, began to circle each other. There was no telling one from the other in their circling or in the play of their maces. Shalya’s mace, wrapped in gold like a burning cloth, filled the watchers with dread; Bhima’s mace flashed like lightning among the clouds. One mace striking the other scattered live coals and sparks through the sky. As two great elephants clash with their tusks or two bulls with their horns, so they began to strike each other with their maces. Under each other’s blows their limbs were bathed in blood, and they shone like two Kinshuka trees in full flower.

Struck from both sides, Bhimasena stood as unmoving as a mountain; and Shalya, bearing the repeated blows of Bhima’s mace, stood as unmoving as a mountain struck by an elephant’s tusks. A moment they rested, then went circling once more with upraised maces in a closer ring. Advancing eight steps each, they struck at each other again with their iron maces. Both were masters of the art, and both began to show their skill. Beaten cruelly by each other’s strength and each other’s mace, the two heroes fell to the ground at the very same moment, like two posts set up for the worship of Indra. At that the warriors of both armies cried out “Alas!” and “Oh!”

Struck in their vital parts, both were in deep distress. Then the strong Kripa took Shalya, best of the Madras, up onto his own car and bore him swiftly away from the field. But in the flicker of an eye Bhimasena rose, and though he swayed like a man who had drunk deep, he lifted his mace and called out to the king of Madra.

The gist: Commander Shalya shows his ferocity, piercing Yudhishthira, Bhima, Satyaki, the sons of Madri, and the sons of Draupadi all at once, and cutting down thousands of Somakas and Prabhadrakas. Then comes the famous mace duel of Bhima and Shalya, in which the two fight with equal strength and fall to the ground at the same instant. Kripa carries the wounded Shalya to safety, but Bhima rises at once and calls him back.

The arrow-duel of Yudhishthira and Shalya

Then the heroes of your army, taking up weapons of every kind, sounding their instruments, fell upon the Pandavas under Duryodhana’s lead. Your son, choosing Chekitana out of those rushing heroes, dealt him a deep wound in the chest with a spear, so that Chekitana, drenched in blood, sank into a deep swoon upon his car. Kripa, Kritavarma, and Shakuni the son of Subala, with the king of Madra in front, fought Yudhishthira. Duryodhana fought Dhrishtadyumna, the slayer of Drona. Under the lead of the son of Drona, three thousand chariots closed with Arjuna.

Then Shalya, longing to kill Yudhishthira, pierced him with many sharp arrows. But the son of Pritha, who knew the vital parts, with the greatest ease aimed fourteen arrows at the vital points of the king of Madra. Shalya, in his wrath, pierced his enemy with many kanka-feathered arrows and, before all the soldiers, struck Yudhishthira again with a straight shaft. The glorious Yudhishthira too, in his anger, pierced the king of Madra with many sharp arrows winged with the feathers of the kanka and the peacock. He pierced Chandrasena with seventy arrows, Shalya’s driver with nine, and Drumasena with sixty-four. When the two guards of his car-wheels had thus been killed, Shalya killed twenty-five warriors of the Chedis, and pierced Satyaki with twenty-five sharp arrows, Bhimasena with seven, and the two sons of Madri with a hundred.

Then the son of Pritha loosed at Shalya many arrows like venomous serpents, and with one broad-headed arrow cut off the tip of the standard of the king of Madra where he stood before him. We saw that severed standard fall like a broken mountain-peak. Seeing his standard down, Shalya in his fury rained arrows, and piercing Satyaki, Bhimasena, and the two sons of Madri with five arrows each, he pressed Yudhishthira hard. Then we saw a web of arrows spread before the chest of the son of Pandu like a bank of risen cloud. Hurt by Shalya’s rain of arrows, Yudhishthira felt his strength fail him, as the asura Jambha felt his fail before the slayer of Vritra.

When Yudhishthira was so hard pressed, Satyaki, Bhimasena, and the two sons of Madri ringed Shalya with their cars and began to press him in turn. Seeing Shalya alone thus pressed by these great car-warriors and still turning aside their blows with success, the Siddhas rejoiced, and the ascetics called it a marvel. Shalya pierced each of them with five arrows, a most wonderful deed. Then with a broad-headed arrow he cut the bow of the son of Dharma. Yudhishthira took up another bow and covered Shalya, with his horses, his driver, his standard, and his car, under a mass of arrows.

Then Satyaki in his fury hurled at Shalya a spear with a golden staff, set with gems; Bhimasena, arrows like burning serpents; Nakula, a lance; Sahadeva, a fine mace; and the son of Dharma, longing to kill Shalya, a shataghni, one of the destroying weapons. But the king of Madra cut all those weapons, loosed from the arms of those five heroes, as they came at him. Swift of hand, Shalya cut the very shataghni that the king had cast, before the eyes of the sons of Pandu, with a pair of arrows, and roared like a lion.

Then the son of Dharma, mad with rage, in that fearful battle killed one of the guards of Shalya’s car-wheel with a razor-headed arrow. Shalya covered the Pandava army with a rain of arrows. Seeing his army covered with arrows, Yudhishthira thought, “How shall those grave words of Madhava come true? Let it not be that the king of Madra in his fury destroys my army in this war.” Then the Pandavas, with their elephants and horses and cars, drew near the king of Madra and began to press him from every side. But the king of Madra, like the wind, scattered that dense rain of arrows and every kind of weapon. His shower of gold-winged arrows was seen in the sky like a flight of locusts, and not a hair’s breadth of empty space was left in the heavens. Seeing that fearful rain of arrows loosed by his swift hand, and the distress of the Pandava army, the gods and the Gandharvas were amazed. The great car-warriors of the Pandavas, covered by Shalya’s rain of arrows, could not press forward against him; yet the warriors led by Bhimasena and Yudhishthira did not flee before that jewel of battle, the hero Shalya.

The gist: After the mace duel the battle becomes a duel of arrows. Yudhishthira and Shalya pierce each other; Shalya, alone, cuts down every weapon that five great car-warriors, Satyaki, Bhima, Nakula, Sahadeva, and Yudhishthira, hurl at him at once, the spear, the arrows, the lance, the mace, the shataghni. His lone valor amazes even the gods. Yudhishthira falls, for a moment, to brooding on Krishna’s words and the danger to his army.

Yudhishthira’s resolve, and the last of the battle

Meanwhile, in another part of the field, Arjuna fought on, ringed by the son of Drona and the Trigartas. The son of Drona pierced Arjuna with twelve arrows and Vasudeva with ten. Out of some regard for his teacher’s son, Arjuna, smiling, drew the Gandiva and at once stripped the son of Drona of his horses, his driver, and his car, and pierced him with three arrows. Carless though he was, the son of Drona hurled an iron-spiked club at Arjuna, and Arjuna cut it into seven pieces. Then the son of Drona hurled a spiked mace like a mountain-peak, and Arjuna cut it down with five arrows. Arjuna pierced the son of Drona with three more arrows, but the mighty son of Drona stood firm, showing no sign of fear or unease. The son of Drona covered the Panchala hero Suratha with arrows; Suratha rushed at him in fury, but the son of Drona pierced Suratha’s heart with a sharp arrow and brought him down like a mountain-peak, then mounted his car and fought Arjuna with the samshaptakas at his side.

Elsewhere a grim battle of arrows and spears was fought between Duryodhana and Dhrishtadyumna. Shikhandi, with the Prabhadrakas, fought Kritavarma and Kripa. Shalya, raining arrows on every side, pressed the Pandavas, Satyaki and Bhima among them, and at the same time fought both sons of Madri, Nakula and Sahadeva, with steadiness and great strength. The great car-warriors of the Pandavas, beaten down by Shalya’s arrows, could find no protector.

Then the heroic Nakula, son of Madri, seeing Yudhishthira the Righteous hard pressed, rushed with speed upon his uncle Shalya and struck him in the middle of the chest with ten iron arrows, gold-winged, whetted on stone. Shalya pierced his glorious nephew in turn with many straight arrows. Then Yudhishthira, Bhimasena, Satyaki, and Sahadeva all fell upon the king of Madra. Shalya, the Kuru commander, received all those heroes as they came on with speed. He pierced Yudhishthira with three arrows, Bhima with seven, Satyaki with a hundred, and Sahadeva with three, and then with a razor-headed arrow cut Nakula’s bow with its fitted shaft.

Then in his fury Shalya, with nine arrows, cut the golden coats of mail of both Bhima and Yudhishthira and pierced their arms, and with a razor-headed arrow cut Yudhishthira’s bow. At the same moment Kripa, with six arrows, killed Yudhishthira’s driver, and the king of Madra, with four arrows, killed his four horses. Having made the king carless, Shalya began to slaughter the army of the son of Dharma. Seeing the Pandava king in this plight, Bhimasena, with one fierce arrow, cut the king of Madra’s bow, pierced him deeply with two arrows, and with one arrow struck the mail-cased head of Shalya’s driver from his trunk. Then in his rage he killed Shalya’s four horses too, and covered that lone-fighting hero with a hundred arrows. Sahadeva did the same. Then Bhima, with other arrows, cut off Shalya’s coat of mail.

His mail cut away, the king of Madra took up a sword and a shield decked with a thousand stars, leapt down from his car, and rushed toward the son of Kunti. Cutting off the shaft of Nakula’s car, Shalya advanced upon Yudhishthira. Seeing the king of Madra advancing on Yudhishthira with speed, like the wrathful destroyer, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, the five sons of Draupadi, and Satyaki the grandson of Shini rushed suddenly at him. Then Bhima with ten arrows cut the peerless shield of that advancing hero, and with a broad-headed arrow struck his sword at the hilt, and roared for joy in the midst of the army. Beholding that deed, all the great car-warriors of the Pandavas were filled with joy, and began to roar like lions and to blow their moon-white conches. At that terrible sound your army lost heart, drenched in sweat, bathed in blood, deeply cast down, and almost lifeless.

Though beset by Bhimasena and the other foremost Pandava heroes, the king of Madra pressed on toward Yudhishthira alone, like a lion going to seize a deer. Steedless and driverless, Yudhishthira looked like a blazing fire in the fury that then filled him. Seeing the king of Madra before him, he rushed at his enemy with great speed. Remembering the words of Govinda, he set his heart firmly on the death of Shalya.

The gist: Arjuna cuts through the son of Drona’s club, mace, and arrows and avenges the slaying of Suratha; elsewhere the duels run on, Duryodhana against Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi against Kripa and Kritavarma. Shalya alone rings five Pandavas, until at last Bhima cuts away his mail, his shield, and his sword. Weaponless, Shalya springs sword and shield in hand straight at Yudhishthira, and Yudhishthira, remembering Krishna’s word, sets his heart firmly on killing Shalya.

The death of Shalya by Yudhishthira’s spear

Recalling that this was the foe allotted to his own share, the one who until now had been beyond killing, the son of Pandu resolved firmly to do the thing that the younger brother of Indra, Krishna, had bidden him do. Standing on his car, without horses and without driver, Yudhishthira took up a spear whose handle was decked with gold and gems and whose radiance was as bright as gold. With his eyes wide open, his heart filled with rage, he cast his glance upon the king of Madra. That the king of Madra was not burnt to ashes even under that gaze of a king of cleansed soul, freed from every sin, appeared to us a great marvel.

Then Yudhishthira, best of the Kurus, hurled with great force at the king of Madra that blazing spear with its beautiful and fearful handle, glittering with gems and corals. All the Kauravas saw that blazing spear speed through the sky, scattering sparks, like a great meteor falling from the heavens at the end of an age. That spear was like kala-ratri, the Night of Doom; like the fearful foster-mother of Yama; and, like a brahmana’s curse, it could not be turned aside. The sons of Pandu had always worshipped that weapon with perfumes, garlands, the best of seats, and fine food and drink. It blazed like the fire of universal doom and was fierce as a rite performed by the Atharvan of Angiras. Tvashtri, the divine artificer, had forged it for the use of Ishana, that is Shiva, fashioning it with great care after keeping many vows. It could consume the life-breaths and the bodies of all his foes, and it had the power to destroy the Earth, the sky, and every water and every kind of creature. Decked with bells, banners, gems, diamonds, and stones of lapis lazuli, with a golden handle, that spear was the destroyer of all who hate Brahma.

Having filled it with fierce mantras and endued it with terrible speed by the exercise of great strength and great care, Yudhishthira hurled that spear along the best of tracks for the death of the king of Madra. “Thou art slain, O wretch!” the king cried aloud as he loosed it, even as Rudra in days of old had shot his shaft for the death of the asura Andhaka, stretching forth his strong right arm with its beautiful hand, and seeming to dance in his wrath.

Shalya roared aloud and tried to catch that spear of irresistible force, hurled by Yudhishthira with all his might, as a fire leaps up to catch a stream of clarified butter poured over it. But the spear, piercing his vital parts and his broad chest, entered the Earth as easily as it would enter water, without the least resistance, and bore away with it the world-wide fame of the king of Madra. Covered with the blood that flowed from his nostrils, his eyes, his ears, and his mouth, and from the stream of his wound, Shalya looked like the Krauncha mountain when it was pierced by Skanda. His armor already cut away by the descendant of Kuru, the glorious Shalya, strong as Indra’s elephant, stretched out his arms and fell to the Earth like a mountain-summit riven by the thunderbolt.

Stretching out his arms, the king of Madra fell to the Earth with his face toward Yudhishthira, like a tall banner set up in honor of Indra falling to the ground. As a dear wife comes forward to receive her dear lord about to sink upon her breast, so the Earth too seemed to rise a little, from affection, to receive that best of men as he fell with his limbs mangled and bathed in blood. Having long enjoyed the Earth like a dear wife, Shalya now seemed to sleep upon her breast, holding her in the embrace of all his limbs. Killed by the son of Dharma in fair fight, Shalya seemed like a goodly fire that had died on the sacrificial altar. Though stripped of weapon and standard, and though his heart had been pierced, beauty did not abandon the lifeless king of Madra.

A key to reading this (the spear, and Krishna’s counsel): The “spear” (shakti) is a divine lance-like weapon, said here to have been forged by Tvashtri for Shiva. Note that it was Krishna himself who had counseled Yudhishthira to set aside the pull of kinship and kill Shalya, because Shalya’s death was Yudhishthira’s own allotted share and the very gate of victory. That Yudhishthira should hurl the spear at his own uncle with the cry “Thou art slain, O wretch!” and kill his mother’s own brother lays bare the moral complexity of the Mahabharata, where even the righteous king must give up a blood-tie in the name of the law of the Kshatriya. Shalya was uncle to the Pandavas and yet stood with the Kauravas; and it was Yudhishthira, the keeper of dharma, who became his killer.

Then Yudhishthira, taking up his bow whose splendor was like Indra’s own, began to destroy his foes in that battle as Garuda, the prince of birds, destroys serpents. Under the rain of arrows the son of Pritha then loosed, your army was wholly covered; with eyes shut in fear, they began to strike one another, and, blood streaming from their bodies, weaponless, they began to lose their lives.

When Shalya fell, the young brother of the king of Madra, who was thought his equal in every quality and reckoned a great car-warrior, rushed upon Yudhishthira. Longing to pay the last debt to his brother, that best of men pierced the Pandava with many arrows. Yudhishthira pierced him with great speed with six arrows, cut his bow and his standard with two razor-headed arrows, and then with one blazing, broad-headed, fierce arrow struck off the head of that enemy where he stood before him. We saw that head, adorned with earrings, fall from the car as a god falls from heaven when his merit is spent. Seeing the brother of the king of Madra, in his beautiful armor, killed, the Kauravas cried “Alas!” and “Oh!” and, covered with dust, gave up hope of their lives and fled.

Then Satyaki, grandson of Shini, advanced upon the fleeing Kauravas, loosing his arrows. Without fear the son of Hridika, Kritavarma, faced that invincible great archer. The two invincible heroes of the Vrishni line, the son of Hridika and Satyaki, closed like two wrathful lions. Satyaki pierced Kritavarma with ten arrows and destroyed his car, his horses, and his two flanking drivers. Then the heroic Kripa, son of Sharadvat, took the carless son of Hridika up on his own car and saved him. With the death of the king of Madra and the unhorsing of Kritavarma, the whole army of Duryodhana turned its face from the field and fled once more.

Then Duryodhana, alone, seeing his army broken close about him, stood firm before all the sons of Pritha who came at him with speed, and covered them all with sharp arrows. In that hour his foes could not come near him, as mortal creatures fear to approach the destroyer standing before them. The great car-warrior Yudhishthira killed Kritavarma’s four horses with four arrows and pierced the son of Gautama, Kripa, with six broad-headed arrows. Then Ashwatthama took the horseless and carless Kritavarma up onto his own car and bore him away from before Yudhishthira.

After that best of archers, Shalya, had been struck down on the field by that best of the Kurus, Yudhishthira, the sons of Pritha gathered together and blew their conches in great joy. They praised Yudhishthira as of old the gods had praised Indra after the death of Vritra, and sounded instruments of every kind, filling the Earth on all sides with the sound.

After the death of Shalya, seventeen hundred heroic car-warriors of the king of Madra, longing to kill Yudhishthira, drove into the Pandava army, though Duryodhana, seated on his mountain-like elephant, shaded by parasol and fanned with yak-tails, called out again and again, “Do not go, do not go.” Hearing that Shalya was dead and Yudhishthira in danger, the great car-warrior Arjuna came there, drawing the Gandiva, filling the Earth with the rattle of his car. Arjuna, Bhima, the two sons of Madri, Satyaki, the five sons of Draupadi, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, the Panchalas, and the Somakas all ringed Yudhishthira on every side to save him, and began to churn the enemy army as crocodiles churn the sea. The sons of Draupadi set about the slaughter of those challenging Madraka warriors. So the death of the king of Madra made that day decisive for the Pandavas.

The gist: Standing on a car without horses or driver, Yudhishthira takes up the divine spear forged by Tvashtri and, keeping Krishna’s word, kills Shalya, king of Madra. The spear pierces Shalya’s chest and enters the Earth, bearing away his world-wide fame. The Earth takes him in like a dear wife. Then Shalya’s brother too falls to Yudhishthira, Satyaki and Kritavarma clash, and the Kaurava army takes to flight. The sons of Pritha cry the praise of Yudhishthira as they did of Indra, but the seventeen hundred men of Madra rush in for a last sacrifice on the field.

Shalya fell, and the Kaurava army broke

Sanjaya says: O king, the trunk of Shalya, king of Madra, was bathed in blood, and that headless body in its beautiful armor came down from the car and fell. At the sight a cry of anguish went up in the Kaurava army. Seeing the younger brother of the king of Madra too, in his beautiful armor, lying slain, the army of the Kurus, filling the air with cries of “Alas!” and “Oh!”, fled away wrapped in dust. Seeing Shalya’s brother killed, your army lost all hope of life, and in their terror of the Pandavas they turned their backs.

Then Satyaki, grandson of Shini, the Yadava hero also called Yuyudhana, loosing his arrows, gave chase to the fleeing Kauravas. At that moment Kritavarma, son of Hridika, came forward and fearlessly checked that hard-to-conquer archer Satyaki. The two invincible heroes of the Vrishni line, the son of Hridika and Satyaki, clashed like two wrathful lions. Both were bright as the sun, and both covered each other with arrows that flashed like the sun’s rays. The arrows of those two Vrishni lions, flying through the sky, looked like swarms of insects.

Kritavarma pierced Satyaki with ten arrows and his horses with three, and with one straight arrow cut his bow. Setting the broken bow aside, that hero of the line of Shini at once took up a second bow, tougher than the first. With that fine bow he pierced Kritavarma in the middle of the chest with ten arrows. Then, with many well-made arrows, Satyaki cut Kritavarma’s car and its shaft, and at once killed his horses and both his flanking drivers, the men who guard the rear corners of the car. Then Kripa, son of Sharadvat, seeing the son of Hridika carless, quickly took him up on his own car and bore him away from the fight.

With the death of the king of Madra and the unhorsing of Kritavarma, the whole army of Duryodhana turned its face from the war once more. In that hour the field was hidden under a cloud of dust and nothing could be seen. A great part of your army was killed, and those who lived turned their backs on the fight. Then the cloud of dust was laid by the streams of blood that flowed on every side. Then Duryodhana, seeing his army broken close about him, faced all the wrathful sons of Pritha alone. The lord of the Kurus covered the Pandavas, Dhrishtadyumna, and Satyaki with sharp arrows, and his foes could no more come near him than creatures come near Yama standing before them.

Meanwhile Kritavarma, son of Hridika, mounted on another car, came back there. Then the great car-warrior Yudhishthira, with four arrows, killed Kritavarma’s four horses, and pierced Kripa, son of Gautama, with six broad-headed arrows. Then Ashwatthama took the son of Hridika, whom King Yudhishthira had left horseless and carless, up on his own car and bore him away from before Yudhishthira. Kripa, son of Sharadvat, in return pierced Yudhishthira with eight arrows and his horses too with eight sharp arrows. And so, O king, through your and your son’s bad policy, the embers of war smoldered here and there across the field.

After the death of Shalya, seeing that best of archers struck down on the field by that best of the Kurus, Yudhishthira, the sons of Pritha gathered and blew their conches in great joy. They praised Yudhishthira in that battle as of old the gods had praised Indra after the death of Vritra. They sounded instruments of every kind, and with them made the Earth ring on all sides.

A key to reading this (the parshni drivers): On a war-chariot of the Mahabharata age the chief driver sat in front, and two “parshni” drivers or guards were set to protect the rear corners of the car. To kill them left the warrior helpless.

The gist: Shalya, king of Madra, fell, his brother too was killed, and the Kaurava army broke a second time into rout. The duel of Satyaki and Kritavarma ended evenly matched; Yudhishthira unhorsed Kritavarma again, and the Pandava camp blew their conches of victory.

The seventeen hundred men of Madra, and their slaughter

Sanjaya says: after the death of Shalya, O king, the followers of the king of Madra, seventeen hundred heroic car-warriors, advanced for battle with great spirit. Duryodhana was mounted on his mountain-like elephant, a parasol raised over his head and yak-tail fans waving. Again and again he held the Madraka warriors back, “Do not go forward! Do not go forward!” But though Duryodhana forbade them again and again, those heroes, longing to kill Yudhishthira, drove into the Pandava army. Loyal to Duryodhana, those brave men, making the fierce twang of their bows, closed with the Pandavas.

At that moment, hearing that Shalya was killed and Yudhishthira ringed by the great Madraka car-warriors, the great car-warrior Arjuna came there, drawing the Gandiva, filling the Earth with the rattle of his car. Then Arjuna, Bhima, the two sons of Madri, Nakula and Sahadeva, Satyaki that best of men, the five sons of Draupadi, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, and the Panchalas and the Somakas all took their stand around Yudhishthira to save him. Taking their places about the king, those best of the Pandavas began to churn the enemy army as crocodiles churn the sea.

Those fierce Madraka car-warriors cried out in loud voices, “Where is that king Yudhishthira? Why do we not see his heroic Pandava brothers here? What has become of the mighty Panchalas, of the great car-warrior Shikhandi? Where are Dhrishtadyumna, Satyaki the grandson of Shini, and the five sons of Draupadi?” Hearing this, the valiant sons of Draupadi, saying these very words and fighting fiercely, set about the slaughter of the followers of the king of Madra.

Your heroic warriors, though your son had held them back, fell upon the Pandavas. Duryodhana wished to check them from the fight with gentle words, but no great car-warrior heeded his command. Then Shakuni, son of the king of Gandhara, skilled in speech, said to Duryodhana, “What manner of thing is this, that we stand here while the Madraka host is cut down before our eyes? You are present, and yet this does not befit us! Surely it was resolved that we would all fight together! Why then, O king, do you suffer the enemy to slaughter our army?”

Duryodhana said, “I forbade them before, but they did not heed my command! They have all rushed together into the Pandava army!” Shakuni said, “Heroes filled with wrath do not heed the commands of their leaders in battle. It is not right for you to be angry with them. This is no time to stand aloof. Come, let us all take our cars, our horses, and our elephants and go to the rescue of the followers of the king of Madra! We will guard one another with the greatest care.”

At Shakuni’s word all the Kauravas set out for the place where the Madrakas were. Duryodhana too, ringed by a vast army, advanced against the enemy, roaring like a lion and making the Earth ring. “Strike, pierce, seize, hit, cut them down!” These were the fierce cries heard among those soldiers.

Seeing the followers of the king of Madra advancing all together, the Pandavas formed the array called Madhyama and met them. After a short hand-to-hand fight those Madraka heroes were seen falling. Then the Pandavas, gathered and full of energy, finished the slaughter of the Madrakas and raised a shout of victory in their joy. Then headless bodies stood up on every side. Great meteors seemed to fall from the disc of the sun. The Earth was covered with cars, broken yokes and axles, dead car-warriors, and lifeless horses. Wind-swift horses, still yoked to driverless cars, dragged the fallen car-warriors here and there across the field. Warriors falling from their cars looked like gods falling from heaven when their merit is spent.

Seeing that vast army of the king of Madra destroyed and their brave king killed, the whole army of Duryodhana turned its face from the war once more. Beaten down by the strokes of the Pandava archers, the Kuru host fled in terror on every side.

A key to reading this (the Madrakas and the seventeen hundred): Madra was the western part of present-day Punjab, around Sakala (Sialkot); Shalya was its king and had joined Duryodhana’s side. Each of the “seventeen hundred car-warriors” came with a driver, guards, and a company of foot, so this was a picked force of several thousand men, close to a regiment in today’s terms.

The gist: The seventeen hundred followers of the king of Madra rushed to kill Yudhishthira despite Duryodhana’s ban; Arjuna and the others ringed the king, and the Madraka band was cut down to a man. Note here Duryodhana’s plea: he wished to stop the useless slaughter, but Shakuni’s goading and the soldiers’ defiance drew him back into the war.

The Kaurava flight after Shalya’s death, and the Pandavas’ talk of victory

Sanjaya says: when that great king and hard-to-conquer car-warrior Shalya fell, your army and nearly all your sons turned away from the fight. Seeing that hero struck down at the hands of the mighty Yudhishthira, your army became like men wrecked in a shoreless sea without a raft. When the king of Madra fell, your soldiers, harried by fear and pierced with arrows, became like creatures bereft of their master, like a herd of deer harried by a lion. Like bulls with their horns broken or elephants with their tusks snapped, they fled at midday, beaten by Yudhishthira, who never had a foe born to match him.

After Shalya fell, no one in your army set his mind either to rally the ranks or to show his valor. O king, the fear and grief that came upon us at the fall of Bhishma, Drona, and Karna the son of the charioteer came upon us again. With the fall of the great car-warrior Shalya the Kuru army lost hope of success, and, seeing its heroes killed, in deep distress it began to be cut down by sharp arrows.

Some on horseback, some on elephants, some on cars, and the foot-soldiers too fled in terror. After Shalya fell, two thousand elephants, mountain-like and skilled in the charge, driven off by goad and heel, fled away. Seeing that beaten, broken, and despairing army in flight, the Panchalas and the Pandavas, longing for victory, gave hard chase.

Seeing the frightened Kaurava army in flight, the Panchalas and the Pandavas said to one another, “Today the truthful king Yudhishthira has conquered his enemies! Today Duryodhana is stripped of his glory and his royal splendor! Today let King Dhritarashtra, hearing of the death of his sons, fall senseless to the ground and feel a deep anguish! Today let him know that the son of Kunti is the mightiest of all archers! Today let that sinful king curse himself! Today let him remember the wholesome words that Vidura spoke in season! From this day let him live in bondage to the sons of Pritha! Today let him know the greatness of Krishna! Today let him hear the fearful twang of Arjuna’s bow in war! Today let him know the fearful strength of the mighty Bhima, when Duryodhana is killed in battle as Indra killed the asura Bali! For there is no one else in this world but the mighty Bhima who could do what Bhima did in the killing of Duhshasana!”

“Hearing of the death of the king of Madra, whom even the gods could not conquer, that king Dhritarashtra will know the valor of the eldest son of Pandu! After the death of the brave son of Subala and all the Gandharas, he will know the war-strength of the two sons of Madri! How should victory not belong to those whose warriors are Dhananjaya, Satyaki, Bhimasena, Dhrishtadyumna, the five sons of Draupadi, the two sons of Madri, the great archer Shikhandi, and King Yudhishthira? How should victory not belong to those whose guardian is Krishna Janardana, the sustainer of this world? How should victory not belong to those whose refuge is dharma? Who is there but the son of Pritha, Yudhishthira, whose guardian is Hrishikesha, the abode of dharma and fame, that could conquer in battle Bhishma, Drona, Karna, the king of Madra, and hundreds and thousands of other kings?” So saying, the joyful Srinjayas gave chase to your army as it was cut down by arrows.

Then the mighty Dhananjaya fell upon the enemy’s car-divisions. The two sons of Madri and the great car-warrior Satyaki advanced against Shakuni. Seeing his army fleeing in haste from fear of Bhimasena, Duryodhana, as if smiling, said to his driver, “That son of Pritha stands there and outstrips me with his bow. Take my horses behind the whole of the army. As the sea does not pass its shores, so Dhananjaya, son of Kunti, will not dare to pass me if I stand firm at the rear. O driver, go slowly and take your place at the rear. If I stand in the battle and fight the Pandavas, my army will rally and return to the fight with strength.” Hearing these words worthy of his son, a brave and proud man, the driver gently urged on the gold-harnessed horses.

Bereft of their elephants, horses, and car-warriors, twenty-one thousand foot-soldiers, ready to give up their lives, still stood firm for battle. Born in many lands and come from many cities, those warriors held their ground, longing for great fame. Then Bhimasena and Dhrishtadyumna faced them with the fourfold host. Other foot-soldiers, roaring like lions and slapping their arms, rushed at Bhima, longing for heaven. They ringed him about and began to strike him from every side. Ringed and struck by that great throng of foot-soldiers, Bhima stood unshaken as Mount Mainaka.

In his fury Bhima leapt at once from his car and advanced on foot against them. Taking up his great gold-plated mace, he began to cut down your army like Yama with his club. With his mace the mighty Bhima crushed those twenty-one thousand foot-soldiers, who were without car, horse, or elephant. Having killed that firm band, Bhima appeared before them with Dhrishtadyumna. Come from many lands, decked with garlands of flowers and earrings of many kinds, those warriors lay bathed in blood upon the Earth, like oleander trees felled by a storm.

Then Duryodhana said to his army, which had not fled far but, pierced with arrows, was ready to run, “I see no place on the plain or on any mountain where, if you flee, the Pandavas will not hunt you down and kill you! What good is flight? The Pandava army has grown small. Both the Krishnas are deeply pierced with arrows. If we all stand firm, victory is surely ours! If you flee, the sinful Pandavas will hunt you down and kill you! If we stand firm, it will be well with us! When Yama kills the brave and the coward alike, what fool that calls himself a Kshatriya will not fight? Our welfare lies in standing firm before the wrathful Bhimasena! Death in battle, fighting by the law of the Kshatriya, brings joy! If we win, joy here; if we die, a great reward in the world beyond! Kurus, there is no road to heaven better than war!”

Hearing these words and praising them greatly, the Kuru king’s men fell upon the Pandavas again. Seeing them come on with speed, the sons of Pritha too, arrayed for battle and filled with wrath, sprang at them. Drawing the Gandiva, known through the three worlds, Dhananjaya charged the enemy. The two sons of Madri and Satyaki charged Shakuni, and the rest of the Pandava heroes, smiling, fell upon your army.

A key to reading this (Ajatashatru, the Srinjayas, the fourfold host): “Ajatashatru,” a title of Yudhishthira, means “one whose enemy has never been born.” “Srinjaya” is a famous clan-name of the Panchalas, and so a byword for the Pandava side. The “fourfold host” (chaturangini) is a complete army of four limbs: chariots, elephants, horse, and foot.

The gist: Shalya’s death breaks Kaurava morale, two thousand elephants flee, and the Pandava side speaks its talk of victory against the bad policy of Dhritarashtra and Duryodhana. Duryodhana tries to steady the army by taking the rear himself, and Bhima crushes twenty-one thousand foot-soldiers alone with his mace.

The elephant-charge of Shalva, king of the Mlecchas, and his death

Sanjaya says: when the army had rallied and stood again, Shalva, king of the Mlecchas, filled with rage, mounted on a huge elephant, fell upon the great Pandava host. That elephant streamed with rut, mountain-like, wild with pride, like Airavata, able to crush the ranks of the enemy. It was of high and noble breed, ever honored by Duryodhana, the son of Dhritarashtra, and well caparisoned and trained for war by those who knew the science of elephants. Mounted on it, that best of kings looked like the morning sun at the end of the hot season.

Riding that best of elephants, he advanced upon the Pandavas and began to pierce them on every side with fierce arrows like the thunderbolt of Indra. He loosed his arrows and sent the enemy warriors to the realm of Yama, and neither Kaurava nor Pandava could find any fault in him, as of old the daityas could find no fault in the thunder-armed Vasava when he was crushing their bands. The Pandavas, the Somakas, and the Srinjayas saw that one elephant wheeling all around them as though it were a thousand elephants.

Harried by that elephant, the enemy army, as though drained of life, looked about on every side. Unable to hold their ground in the fight, they crushed one another as they fled in great terror. Seeing the Pandava army broken and fleeing in haste, all the best heroes of your army did honor to King Shalva and blew their moon-white conches. Hearing the joyful cries and the conch-blasts of the Kauravas, the commander of the Pandava and Srinjaya army, Dhrishtadyumna the Panchala prince, could not bear it in his anger.

Then the fiery Dhrishtadyumna advanced with speed to overthrow that elephant, as the asura Jambha advanced upon Airavata in his war with Indra. Seeing the Pandava commander coming on with speed, Shalva, a lion among kings, drove his elephant on to destroy the son of Drupada. Seeing that beast rushing at him, Dhrishtadyumna pierced it with three fine arrows, wrought by the smith’s hand and blazing like fire, then struck the domes of its head with five more sharp arrows. Pierced through, that best of elephants turned from the fight and fled at speed.

But Shalva checked that sorely wounded, retreating elephant, turned it back, and with goad and sharp lances drove it toward the car of the Panchala king. Seeing that beast rushing at him with speed, the hero Dhrishtadyumna took up his mace and, his limbs quaking with fear, at once leapt down from his car to the ground. In that same moment the huge elephant, with its trunk, crushed the gold-harnessed car, horses, driver, and all, lifted it high, and dashed it to the ground.

Seeing the driver of the Panchala king crushed, Bhima, Shikhandi, and Satyaki the grandson of Shini rushed at that beast with speed and checked its charge with their arrows. Checked thus, the elephant began to stagger. Meanwhile King Shalva rained down his arrows like the sun’s rays on every side, and under those blows the Pandava car-warriors began to flee. Seeing that valor of Shalva, the Panchalas, the Srinjayas, and the Matsyas cried out “Alas!” and “Oh!”, and yet they ringed that elephant on every side.

Then the heroic Panchala king Dhrishtadyumna took up his mace, mountain-like, and rushed fearlessly and with speed at that elephant. On that beast, huge as a hill and streaming rut like a cloud, he struck with his mace. Its head-domes burst apart, and screaming aloud and spouting blood, it fell suddenly to the Earth like a mountain sinking in an earthquake. As that best of elephants was falling and the soldiers of your son were wailing in grief, Satyaki, best of the Shini line, with one sharp broad-headed arrow struck off the head of King Shalva. His head cut away, Shalva fell to the ground with his best of elephants, like a mountain-peak sheared off by the thunderbolt of Indra.

A key to reading this (Shalva versus Shalya): Note that this Shalva is a different man from Shalya, king of Madra. Shalva was a king of the Mlecchas (the peoples beyond the borders of Aryavarta), and his huge elephant was a favorite of Duryodhana. The names are alike; the men are not.

The gist: Shalva, king of the Mlecchas, broke the Pandava army for a moment with his Airavata-like elephant; Dhrishtadyumna burst the elephant’s head with his mace, and Satyaki cut off Shalva’s head and brought him down, elephant and all.

Satyaki and Kritavarma clash again, and Duryodhana’s lone valor

Sanjaya says: when the hero Shalva, an ornament of assemblies, was killed, your army broke like a great tree felled by a storm. Seeing the army broken, the great car-warrior Kritavarma, rich in valor and mighty strength, checked the enemy host. Seeing the Satwata hero Kritavarma standing firm in the fight like a mountain, though pierced with arrows, the fleeing Kuru heroes returned. Then a grim battle was fought between the returned Kurus and the Pandavas, in which the Kurus set death itself for their aim.

Then Satyaki, grandson of Shini, came to that spot. Reaching the mighty king Kshemakirti, Satyaki sent him to the realm of Yama with seven sharp arrows. Then the wise son of Hridika, Kritavarma, rushed with speed upon Satyaki, best of the Shini line. Those two fine archers, roaring like lions, clashed with great force. The Pandavas, the Panchalas, and the other warriors became onlookers at that fearful duel between those two Vrishni-Andhaka heroes.

Kritavarma pierced Satyaki’s four horses with four sharp arrows. In his fury Satyaki pierced Kritavarma with eight fine arrows, like an elephant stuck through with lances. Then Kritavarma pierced Satyaki with three arrows whetted on stone, and with one more cut his bow. Setting the broken bow aside, that best of the Shini line at once took up another, and unable to bear the cutting of his bow, filled with rage, rushed at Kritavarma. With ten sharp arrows he struck Kritavarma’s driver, horses, and standard.

Seeing his gold-harnessed car left without driver and horses, Kritavarma in his fury hurled a sharp lance at Satyaki with all his strength. Satyaki cut it into pieces with many sharp arrows and let it fall, and struck Kritavarma dumb. With another broad-headed arrow he struck Kritavarma in the chest. Made horseless and driverless by Yuyudhana, Satyaki, Kritavarma fell to the ground. Seeing him carless, the hearts of your sons filled with grief.

Then Kripa rushed with speed upon Satyaki, but before all the archers he took Kritavarma up on his own car and bore him away from the fight. With Kritavarma unhorsed and the grandson of Shini grown strong, the whole army of Duryodhana turned its face from the war once more. The enemy could not see it, for the army was hidden in a cloud of dust. All your warriors fled but Duryodhana. Seeing his army destroyed close about him, he attacked the victorious enemy alone.

Filled with rage, that hard-to-conquer hero rained sharp arrows without fear upon all the Pandavas, upon Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, the sons of Draupadi, the Panchalas, the Kaikeyas, and the Somakas. Like the fire kindled by mantras and blazing on the sacred altar, your mighty son stood firm in the war with fixed resolve. His enemies could no more come near him than creatures come near Yama. Then Kritavarma, son of Hridika, mounted on another car, came back there.

A key to reading this (the Vrishni-Andhakas): Satyaki and Kritavarma both belonged to the same Yadava confederacy, the Vrishni-Andhakas, and so were clan-brothers, yet in the war Satyaki stood on the Pandava side and Kritavarma on the Kaurava. This is one more of the Mahabharata’s moral knots: one blood, opposite sides.

The gist: Satyaki killed Kshemakirti and unhorsed Kritavarma again; Kripa carried him off. When the army fled, Duryodhana stood alone like a sacrificial fire and faced all the Pandavas.

Duryodhana alone under a rain of arrows, and the scattered duels

Sanjaya says: O king, your son, mounted on his car, filled with the courage of despair, shone in the battle like the great Rudra. The Earth was covered with his thousands of arrows. He drenched his enemies with arrows as clouds drench the breasts of the mountains with rain. In that great battle there was not a man, horse, elephant, or car on the Pandava side that was not pierced by Duryodhana’s arrows. O king, whatever warrior I turned my eye upon in that hour, I found pierced by your son’s arrows.

Under the arrows of that fiery hero of swift hand, the Pandava army was covered as an advancing host is covered by the rising dust. Among thousands upon thousands of warriors, I could see in that hour only Duryodhana alone. His valor seemed a great marvel, for all the sons of Pritha gathered together could not come near his lone figure.

He pierced Yudhishthira with a hundred arrows, Bhimasena with seventy, Sahadeva with seven, Nakula with sixty-four, Dhrishtadyumna with five, the sons of Draupadi with seven, and Satyaki with three. With a broad-headed arrow he cut Sahadeva’s bow. Setting the broken bow aside, Sahadeva son of Madri took up another fierce bow and, rushing at Duryodhana, pierced him with ten arrows. Then the bold Nakula pierced the king with nine fierce arrows and roared like a lion. Satyaki pierced the king with one straight arrow, the sons of Draupadi with seventy-three, Yudhishthira with five, and Bhimasena with eighty. Though pierced on every side by so many heroes, Duryodhana, before all the watching soldiers, did not waver in the least. His swiftness, his skill, and his valor were seen to be greater than those of all living creatures.

Meanwhile those Dhartarashtra warriors who had not fled far, seeing the king, put on their armor and returned. The sound of their return was terrible as the swelling sea in the rainy season. Reaching their invincible king, they advanced against the Pandavas for the fight. The son of Drona, Ashwatthama, faced the wrathful Bhimasena. Their arrows so covered the quarters that there was no telling the directions apart. Ashwatthama and Bhimasena, both doers of cruel deeds, both hard to conquer, both with the calluses of the bowstring on their arms from drawing it again and again, cut short each other’s feats and fought on, filling the whole world with dread.

The hero Shakuni faced Yudhishthira. The son of Subala killed the king’s four horses and roared like a lion, and at that the whole army trembled in fear. Then the hero Sahadeva bore the beaten King Yudhishthira from the fight on his own car. Yudhishthira returned on another car and pierced Shakuni first with nine arrows, then with five, and roared like a lion. That fearful battle was praised by the Siddhas and the Charanas.

The boundless-souled Uluka, son of Shakuni, rained arrows on the great archer Nakula, and Nakula too checked the son of Shakuni with a rain of arrows. Both great car-warriors, born of noble houses, were seen fighting in fury upon each other. In the same way Kritavarma shone as he fought the grandson of Shini, like Indra fighting the asura Bala. Duryodhana cut Dhrishtadyumna’s bow and pierced that bowless enemy with sharp arrows; Dhrishtadyumna took up a fierce bow and fought the king before all the archers. Their battle was as terrible as that of two maddened elephants streaming rut.

The wrathful Kripa of Gautama’s line pierced the five sons of Draupadi with many straight arrows. The battle of those five with him was like the war of an embodied soul and its five senses, fearful, grim, and pitiless on both sides. The sons of Draupadi harried Kripa as the five senses harry a foolish man, and Kripa held them in check as a wise man holds his senses. Men fought men, elephants elephants, horses horses, and car-warriors car-warriors.

Then the dense dust raised by the cars, the breath of the beasts, and the running horses rose into the sky like the clouds of dusk. The sun grew dim, the Earth was hidden, and the heroic car-warriors could not be seen. Then that dust, soaked in the blood of heroes, settled, and all became clear. Then I saw again those fearful duels of noon. The sound of falling arrows rose fierce on every side like a burning grove of bamboo.

A key to reading this (the metaphor of the senses): Again and again Vyasa likens the battle to “the embodied soul against its five senses,” the five sons as the five senses and the lone warrior as the soul in restraint. This is more than an ornament; it is the Mahabharata’s hint that the outer war is a mirror of the inner struggle for self-mastery.

The gist: Alone, Duryodhana rains arrows on all the Pandava chiefs and stands unshaken, showing a wonderful swiftness of hand; meanwhile the duels run pair by pair, Ashwatthama against Bhima, Shakuni against Yudhishthira, Uluka against Nakula, Kripa against the sons of Draupadi, Duryodhana against Dhrishtadyumna.

The ring of seven hundred chariots, the evil omens, and Shakuni’s strike from the rear

Sanjaya says: in that grim battle your son’s army kept breaking before the Pandavas, and still your son held his great car-warriors together and carried the fight on. On neither side did a single warrior turn his face from the war. The warriors fought by guess and by calling out names, and a great slaughter was made.

Then Yudhishthira, filled with rage, pierced Kripa, son of Sharadvat, with three gold-winged arrows, and with four more killed Kritavarma’s four horses. Then Ashwatthama bore the son of Hridika from the fight, and Kripa in return pierced Yudhishthira with eight arrows. Then Duryodhana sent seven hundred chariots against Yudhishthira. Running with the speed of wind or thought, those chariots fell upon the car of the son of Kunti and, with arrows on every side, hid him from sight like the sun hidden by cloud.

Seeing Yudhishthira so ringed, Shikhandi and the other Pandava heroes rushed there in fury. They killed those seven hundred Kuru car-warriors and then checked the whole Kuru army. Then such a grim battle was fought between your son and the Pandavas as we had never seen or heard. In that hour, when countless women of noble birth and beauty were being widowed, and the fierce battle raged with no thought of friend or foe, fearful omens of universal ruin appeared. The Earth, with its mountains and forests, trembled and gave out a fearful sound. Meteors like blazing torches with handles fell from the disc of the sun through the sky. A wind ran on every side, sweeping harsh gravel before it. The elephants shed floods of tears and trembled.

Disregarding those fearful omens, the Kshatriyas, taking counsel with one another, stood firm once more on that holy field of Kurukshetra, longing for heaven. Then Shakuni, son of the king of Gandhara, said, “Fight the enemy from the front! I will slaughter the Pandavas from the rear!” At that hour the king of Gandhara had with him a full ten thousand horsemen who fought with gleaming lances. With the help of that force, Shakuni, showing his valor, struck the Pandava army from behind with sharp arrows. The Pandava army broke like a mass of cloud rent by a fierce wind.

Then Yudhishthira, seeing his army broken close about him, said calmly to the mighty Sahadeva, “There the son of Subala is cutting up our rear-guard, standing in his armor and slaughtering our army! O son of Pandu, behold that wicked man! Advance against him with the son of Draupadi at your side and kill Shakuni, son of Subala! With the Panchalas I will meanwhile destroy the enemy’s car-division! Let all the elephants, all the horse, and three thousand foot go with you! With their help, kill Shakuni!”

Then seven hundred elephants ridden by archers, five thousand horse, the hero Sahadeva, three thousand foot, and the sons of Draupadi all fell upon the hard-to-conquer Shakuni in battle. But the mighty son of Subala pressed the Pandavas hard and, longing for victory, kept cutting their army from behind. Then the wrathful horsemen of the Pandavas drove into the ranks of the son of Subala. Here a grim battle was fought of lances like garlands and of maces, in which only the brave took part. The twang of bowstrings was no longer heard, for all the car-warriors had become onlookers. Lances hurled into the sky looked like flights of locusts, and the sky grew lovely with bright swords falling.

Horses, streaming blood from their wounds, began to fall in their hundreds and thousands. A darkness of thick dust spread, and in it heroes, horses, and men were seen falling back. Many fell to the Earth spouting blood. Many, tangled in each other’s hair, could not stir. Many, dragging one another from the horses’ backs, grappled like wrestlers. Thousands of warriors lay on the bloody Earth with their limbs cut away. After a short fight Shakuni, son of Subala, drew off with the six thousand horse he had left, and the Pandava army too drew off with its own six thousand horse.

Then the sons of Draupadi and the elephants advanced toward Dhrishtadyumna, and as the dust rose, Sahadeva alone advanced toward Yudhishthira. When all had drawn off, Shakuni fell in fury upon Dhrishtadyumna’s division once more. Then a grim battle was fought again. Heads cut off by swords fell like palm-fruit. Warriors striking even at brothers, sons, and fathers fought like birds swooping at scraps of meat. Many, maddened by the smell of blood, made no difference between friend and foe and killed all alike. Wolves, vultures, and jackals cried out in their joy. Before your son’s eyes, your army suffered a great loss.

When the din had lessened a little, the son of Subala came again with the horse he had left near the great Pandava army. Then the Pandavas, with foot, elephant, and horse, ringed Shakuni on every side and struck him with weapons of every kind. Seeing your army ringed, the Kauravas too fell upon the Pandavas. Some weaponless foot-soldiers threw the enemy down with feet and fists. Car-warriors fell from their cars and elephant-riders from their elephants like the meritorious falling from the chariots of heaven when their merit is spent. So was that grim battle fought, in which no one spared a thought for anyone.

A sub-tale: Note that Yudhishthira sends Sahadeva in particular against Shakuni. This is no accident, for the Mahabharata threads its vows through the whole tale. Shakuni was the man whose crooked dice had stripped the Pandavas of all they had, and in the tradition Sahadeva had sworn in his heart to take the reckoning for that fraud. Later, before the killing, Sahadeva reminds Shakuni of his glee at the gambling table. The story keeps the account of its old wounds.

The gist: Duryodhana sent seven hundred chariots against Yudhishthira, and they were cut down; omens of universal ruin appeared; Shakuni struck the Pandavas from the rear with ten thousand Gandhara horsemen; Yudhishthira gave Sahadeva the charge of killing the son of Subala, and after a grim cavalry battle only six thousand horse remained on either side.

Arjuna’s cataclysmic forest of arrows, and the breaking of Duryodhana’s chariot

Sanjaya says: when the din had lessened a little and the Pandavas had killed many of the enemy, the son of Subala came again to the fight with the seven hundred horse he had left, urging his soldiers on with the cry, “O tamers of foes, fight with glad hearts!” He asked the Kshatriyas there, “Where is that great car-warrior, the king?” They answered, “Where you see that parasol like the full moon, where the armored car-warriors stand, where a sound deep as a cloud is heard, there is the lord of the Kurus! Go there with speed!” Then Shakuni reached the place where Duryodhana stood, ringed by unconquerable heroes.

Seeing Duryodhana in the midst of the car-division, Shakuni, as though he held all his aims already won, said in joy, “O king, kill the car-divisions of the Pandavas! I have won all their horse! Yudhishthira is unconquerable in war only while no one is ready to give up his life! When the car-division guarded by the son of Pandu is destroyed, we will kill all their elephants and foot!” Hearing this, your warriors fell upon the Pandava army in longing for victory. Quivers on their backs, bows in their hands, they shook their bows and roared like lions. Then the fierce twang of bowstrings, the clap of palms, and the hiss of arrows were heard.

Seeing the Kuru warriors coming on with raised bows against the Pandava army, Dhananjaya son of Kunti said to Krishna son of Devaki, “Drive the horses without fear and enter this sea of soldiers! Today with my sharp arrows I will make an end of this feud! O Janardana, today is the eighteenth day of this great war! That countless army is now all but destroyed! See the turn of fate! The sea-like army of the son of Dhritarashtra, dashed against us, has shrunk to a pool in a cow’s hoofprint! Had peace been made when Bhishma fell, all would have been well! But the dull-witted Duryodhana would not make peace!”

“Why the war went on even after Bhishma fell, I do not know! Even after Drona, Karna son of Radha, and Vikarna had fallen, the slaughter did not stop! Shrutayudha, Jalasandha of the line of Puru, Bahlika, Somadatta, Bhagadatta, Sudakshina king of the Kambojas, Duhshasana, Jayadratha, the rakshasa Alayudha, even after so many heroes had fallen, the slaughter did not stop! What king born in a house as noble as the Kurus’, save the foolish Duryodhana, would set on such a grim and useless feud? Who that had judgment and knew good from ill would go to war knowing his enemies greater in worth, in strength, and in courage?”

“Bhishma, Drona, and Vidura begged him to make peace, and he scorned them; in his folly he cast aside even the words of his aged father and his loving mother! O Janardana, it is plain that Duryodhana was born for the ruin of his own house! The high-souled Vidura told me many times that as long as the son of Dhritarashtra lived, he would not give us our share; and as long as Dhritarashtra lived, that sinful man would do us only wrong; and that we could not win Duryodhana without war! The words of Vidura have today come true to the letter! At Duryodhana’s very birth many perfected ascetics said that through this wicked one the whole order of Kshatriyas would perish! Those words now bear their fruit!”

“O Madhava, today I will kill all the warriors! When all the Kshatriyas are killed and the Kaurava camp is emptied, Duryodhana will seek war with us for his own ruin! That will be the end of the feud! Enter the Bharata army, O hero, for today with my sharp arrows I will make an end of the wicked Duryodhana and his army! Before the very eyes of the son of Dhritarashtra I will kill this feeble army and do Yudhishthira good this day!”

At the word of Arjuna, Krishna of the Dasharha line fearlessly drove the car into that vast enemy army. That army was a fearful forest of bows, with lances for its thorns, maces and clubs for its paths, cars and elephants for its great trees, and horse and foot for its creepers. In that forest Keshava shone upon the banner-decked car. The white horses, driven by the Dasharha hero, were seen wheeling everywhere, bearing Arjuna.

Then Arjuna advanced, raining arrows like a cloud. The shafts loosed from the Gandiva, with the touch of Indra’s thunder, pierced men, elephants, and horses and fell, sounding like winged insects. Everything was covered by the arrows of the Gandiva, and there was no telling the directions apart. The whole world seemed filled with those gold-winged shafts, soaked in oil, wrought by the smith, marked with the name of the son of Pritha. Scorched by those sharp arrows, the Kauravas grew slack and strengthless, as though a heap of dry grass were burning up. Like Indra destroying the daityas, Arjuna, entering that host of great car-warriors alone, destroyed it with arrows of every kind.

With the Gandiva Arjuna undid the very purpose of those heroes who would not show their backs. Beaten by the arrows of the son of Pritha, that army broke and fled before your son’s eyes. Some fled leaving father or brother behind, some leaving comrades; some had their horses killed, some their drivers, some the yokes and wheels of their cars broken. Then the Panchala prince Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, and Shatanika son of Nakula fought the enemy’s car-division. Your son Duryodhana rained arrows on the wrathful Dhrishtadyumna, and pierced him in the arms and chest with many arrows.

Though pierced like an elephant stuck with lances, that great archer sent Duryodhana’s four horses to the realm of Yama with his arrows, and with one broad-headed arrow struck the head of the enemy’s driver from his trunk. Then King Duryodhana, carless, mounted a horse and withdrew a little way. Seeing his army without valor, the mighty Duryodhana rode to where Shakuni, son of Subala, was.

A key to reading this (the eighteenth day, and the cow’s hoofprint): The war of the Mahabharata ran eighteen days in all, and this is its last. Arjuna’s image of “the water in a cow’s hoofprint” (goshpada) is an old idiom of Indian letters: a thing once vast, now shrunk so small that it may be crossed like the little pool left in a cow’s hoofprint. The army of eleven akshauhinis had come down to a handful.

The gist: Arjuna speaks to Krishna his grief that no peace was made and his wonder that Vidura’s words have all come true, then burns the Kaurava army almost to ash with his forest of arrows; Dhrishtadyumna kills Duryodhana’s horses and driver and leaves him carless, and Duryodhana withdraws on horseback toward Shakuni.

The ring of three thousand elephants, and Bhima’s mace

Sanjaya says: when the Kaurava chariots were broken, three thousand huge elephants ringed the five Pandavas. Ringed by that elephant-force, the five brothers shone like planets ringed by clouds. Then Arjuna, on his car with its white horses and Krishna for driver, came forward and began to destroy those mountain-like elephants with his sharp arrows. Pierced each with a single arrow, those huge beasts were seen falling under the hand of Arjuna.

Like a maddened elephant himself, the mighty Bhima took up his fierce mace and, leaping from his car, fell upon them like club-bearing Yama. Seeing that great warrior with his mace raised, your soldiers voided their bowels in terror, and the whole army was in distress. We saw those mountain-like elephants, their head-domes burst by Bhima’s mace, all their limbs bathed in blood. Struck by the mace, those elephants, screaming in pain, fell like mountains with their wings cut off. Then Yudhishthira and the two sons of Madri too began to kill those elephant-riders with vulture-feathered arrows.

Seeing King Duryodhana beaten and withdrawn on horseback, and the Pandavas ringed by elephants, Dhrishtadyumna advanced to the slaughter of those elephants. Meanwhile, not seeing Duryodhana in the car-division, Ashwatthama, Kripa, and Kritavarma asked the Kshatriyas there, “Where has Duryodhana gone?” Not seeing the king in that slaughter, those great car-warriors, thinking him killed, went about asking with grieving faces. Someone told them that when his driver fell, the king had gone toward the son of Subala.

Some Kshatriyas, pierced with wounds, said, “What of Duryodhana? See first whether you yourselves are alive or not! Fight together, all of you! What will the king do for you?” Others said in broken voices, “Kill those who ring us! See, the Pandavas, having killed the elephants, are coming this way!” Hearing this, Ashwatthama, with Kripa and Kritavarma, cut through the hard-to-conquer army of the Panchala king and advanced toward the son of Subala, leaving the car-division in search of the king.

When they had gone, the Pandavas under Dhrishtadyumna pressed forward and slaughtered the enemy. Many of your warriors lost hope of their lives. Then, O king, Sanjaya says, I myself, with only two kinds of troops, careless of my life, joined the five leaders of our army and stood in the place of Kripa, son of Sharadvat, and fought the army of the Panchala prince. We were pierced by the arrows of Arjuna the diademed; still we fought a grim battle with the division of Dhrishtadyumna. Beaten at last by it, we all drew off.

Then I saw the great car-warrior Satyaki rushing upon us. With four hundred chariots that hero pursued me. Barely escaping from Dhrishtadyumna, whose horses were weary, I fell into the army of Satyaki as a sinner falls into hell. There a grim fight was fought for a while. The mighty-armed Satyaki cut my armor and sought to take me alive; and when I fell senseless to the ground, he seized me. In that short time Bhimasena with his mace and Arjuna with his arrows destroyed that elephant-force. Those mountain-like elephants, their limbs mangled, kept falling on every side, so that the way of the Pandava heroes was all but blocked. Then the mighty Bhima dragged those elephants aside and cleared a path for the Pandavas.

The gist: Arjuna’s arrows and Bhima’s mace destroy the ring of three thousand elephants. Not finding Duryodhana in the car-division, Ashwatthama, Kripa, and Kritavarma set off in search of him. In this same battle Sanjaya himself is taken prisoner by Satyaki.

The slaughter of Dhritarashtra’s sons by Bhima

Sanjaya says: while that elephant-force was being destroyed and Bhimasena was slaughtering your army, ranging in fury like club-bearing Yama, your surviving sons, all born of one mother, at a time when Duryodhana was nowhere to be seen, gathered together and fell upon Bhimasena. They were Durmarshana, Shrutanta, Jaitra, Bhuribala, Ravi, Jayatsena, Sujata, the foe-slaying Durvishaha, Durvimochana, Dushpradharsha, and the mighty-armed Shrutarva, all skilled in war. Gathered together, they ringed Bhima on every side.

Then Bhima climbed again onto his car and began to loose sharp arrows at the vital parts of your sons. Covered with arrows, those sons dragged at Bhima as men drag an elephant at a crossroad. In his fury Bhima, with a razor-headed arrow, cut off Durmarshana’s head and let it fall to the ground. With another broad-headed, armor-piercing arrow he killed Shrutanta. With one long arrow he pierced Jayatsena with ease and threw him from his car; the prince gave up his life as he fell.

Then the wrathful Shrutarva pierced Bhima with a hundred straight arrows. Filled with rage, Bhima pierced Jaitra, Ravi, and Bhuribala, those three, with three arrows like poison and fire, and they fell from their cars like flowering Kinshuka trees felled by the axe in spring. Then with a sharp broad-headed arrow he sent Durvimochana to the realm of Yama. Then he pierced Dushpradharsha and Sujata, two of your sons, with two arrows each, and they fell. Then, seeing Durvishaha coming on, he pierced him with a broad-headed arrow, and that son fell from his car before all the archers.

Seeing so many of his brothers killed by Bhima alone, Shrutarva, filled with rage, drew his gold-decked bow and rushed at Bhima, raining arrows like poison and fire. He cut Bhima’s bow and pierced him with twenty arrows. Then Bhima took up another bow and, crying “Wait! Wait!”, covered him with arrows. Their fight was as lovely and as terrible as the old war of Vasava and the asura Jambha. Then Bhima sent Shrutarva’s driver and his four horses to the realm of Yama. Seeing him carless, he covered him with winged arrows.

Then the carless Shrutarva took up sword and shield; bearing that gleaming shield decked with a hundred moons, he ranged about, but Bhima, with a razor-headed arrow, struck his head from his trunk and let it fall to the ground. The trunk of that fiery hero fell to the Earth with a loud sound. Though afraid at the fall of this hero, your soldiers fell upon Bhima. In his armor, Bhima harried the surviving warriors of that sea of an army with sharp arrows, as the thousand-eyed Indra harried the asuras.

Destroying five hundred great chariots, Bhima killed seven hundred elephants, ten thousand foot, and eight hundred horses, and shone. Having killed your sons in battle, Bhimasena felt that his purpose and the aim of his birth were fulfilled. In that hour your soldiers did not dare even to look at that warrior. Driving off all the Kurus, Bhima slapped his arms, and at that even the huge elephants trembled in fear. Then your army, worn very thin, sank into deep despair.

A sub-tale: For Bhima this was not war alone, it was the keeping of a vow. When Draupadi was insulted in the gambling hall, Bhima had sworn to kill all the sons of Dhritarashtra. The words “he felt the aim of his birth fulfilled” point to that oath. The Mahabharata does not make it easy by calling such strength virtue or sin. It only shows one brother felling, one by one, the hundred brothers of another house, and leaves the weight of it with the reader.

The gist: Bhima killed Durmarshana, Shrutanta, Jayatsena, Jaitra, Ravi, Bhuribala, Durvimochana, Dushpradharsha, Sujata, Durvishaha, and Shrutarva, these eleven of your sons, one after another, and destroyed as well five hundred chariots, seven hundred elephants, ten thousand foot, and eight hundred horses.

The slaying of Sudarshana, the end of Susharma king of the Trigartas, and the death of Uluka son of Shakuni

Sanjaya says: O king, at that time Duryodhana and your son Sudarshana, these two alone of your sons, were left, in the midst of the Kaurava cavalry. Seeing Duryodhana among the horse, Krishna, son of Devaki, said to Arjuna, “Many kinsmen of the enemy who depended on us have been killed. That best of the Shini line, Satyaki, is coming back with Sanjaya his prisoner. Nakula and Sahadeva are worn out. Kripa, Kritavarma, and Ashwatthama, these three, have left Duryodhana’s side and gone elsewhere. Having destroyed Duryodhana’s army, Dhrishtadyumna stands among the Prabhadrakas. There Duryodhana stands in the midst of his cavalry, a parasol over his head, looking about on every side. Kill him with your sharp arrows, and you may win all your ends!”

At Krishna’s word Arjuna answered, “O Madhava, nearly all the sons of Dhritarashtra have been killed by Bhima! Only these two live, and today they too will be destroyed! Bhishma is dead, Drona is dead, Karna son of Vikartana is dead, Shalya king of Madra and Jayadratha are dead! Of Shakuni son of Subala’s army there are left only five hundred horse, two hundred cars, a hundred fierce elephants, and three thousand foot! Ashwatthama, Kripa, the king of the Trigartas, Uluka, and Kritavarma are left as well! Yet even after such slaughter, see, Duryodhana is still alive! But today Yudhishthira will be freed of all his enemies! Today I will kill the king of Gandhara and lift the anguish that has long tormented the king! What the son of Subala won from us at the gambling hall, I will win back! Come, O Krishna, I will kill them!”

Krishna drove the horses toward Duryodhana’s division. Seeing that army, Bhimasena, Arjuna, and Sahadeva, roaring like lions, advanced to kill Duryodhana. Seeing them come, Shakuni, son of Subala, came forward. Your son Sudarshana rushed at Bhimasena, Susharma and Shakuni at Arjuna, and Duryodhana on horseback at Sahadeva. Then your son Duryodhana struck Sahadeva on the head with a lance. Wounded, Sahadeva sank down on the floor of his car, all his limbs bathed in blood, breathing like a snake. Recovering, Sahadeva in his fury covered Duryodhana with sharp arrows.

Arjuna, son of Kunti, showing his valor, struck off the heads of many horsemen and destroyed that cavalry. Then he advanced against the chariots of the Trigartas. The great Trigarta car-warriors, gathered together, covered Arjuna and Vasudeva with arrows. Then the son of Pritha, with a razor-headed arrow, cut the car-shaft of Satyakarma, and, smiling, with another arrow whetted on stone struck off his gold-decked head. Then, springing like a lion at Satyeshu, he killed him, and, piercing Susharma with three arrows, he killed all his gold-decked car-warriors.

Then he advanced with speed against Susharma, king of Prasthala, spitting out the venom of a wrath stored up for many years. First covering him with a hundred arrows, Arjuna killed all his horses, then, laying on his string a fierce arrow like the rod of Yama, smiling, loosed it at Susharma. That arrow pierced his heart and passed through, and Susharma fell to the Earth, giving joy to the Pandavas and grief to your warriors. Then the son of Pritha sent Susharma’s thirty-five sons, all great car-warriors, to the realm of Yama, and, killing all his followers, advanced against the rest of the Bharata army.

Meanwhile the wrathful Bhima hid your son Sudarshana with arrows, and, smiling, with a sharp razor-headed arrow struck his head from his trunk. Lifeless, that prince fell to the Earth. At his fall his followers ringed Bhima with arrows, but Bhima covered them with arrows like the thunderbolt of Indra and in a short while killed them all. Then many Kaurava leaders fought Bhima, and Bhima covered them all with arrows.

A key to reading this (Trigarta and the samshaptakas): Susharma, king of the Trigartas (the present Jalandhar-Kangra country), and his brothers were called the “samshaptakas,” the warriors who had sworn either to kill Arjuna or to die on the field. Their feud with Arjuna was an old one; here it ends in the death of Susharma and his thirty-five sons.

The gist: Arjuna killed Susharma, king of the Trigartas, and his thirty-five sons; Bhima killed Sudarshana, one of the last of your sons.

Shakuni and Uluka slain at Sahadeva’s hands

Sanjaya says: in that great battle Shakuni, son of Subala, rushed at Sahadeva. On that warrior coming at him with speed the hero Sahadeva rained arrows thick as a flight of insects. At the same time Uluka faced Bhima and pierced him with ten arrows. Shakuni pierced Bhima with three arrows and Sahadeva with ninety. Those heroes went on piercing one another with arrows winged with the feathers of the kanka and the peacock, gold-winged, whetted on stone.

Then the wrathful Bhima and the mighty Sahadeva, both of great strength, ranged the field and made a great slaughter. Under their arrows that army was covered. Then the brave son of Subala struck Sahadeva on the head with all his might with a lance. Wounded, Sahadeva sank down on the floor of his car. Seeing Sahadeva in that plight, the wrathful Bhima checked the whole Kuru army and, piercing thousands of the enemy, roared like a lion, so that all the followers of Shakuni fled in terror with their horses and elephants.

Seeing them broken, Duryodhana said, “Halt, O Kshatriyas ignorant of duty! Fight! What is the use of flight? The hero who gives up his life on the field without showing his back wins fame here and joy in the world beyond!” At the king’s word the followers of the son of Subala, setting death for their aim, advanced against the Pandavas once more. Their din was terrible as the swelling sea. Recovering a little, Sahadeva pierced Shakuni with ten arrows and his horses with three, and cut his bow with ease. Shakuni took up another bow and pierced Nakula with sixty arrows and Bhima with seven. Uluka, longing to save his father, pierced Bhima with seven arrows and Sahadeva with seventy.

Then the hero Sahadeva, with a broad-headed arrow, struck off the head of Uluka as he came on. Killed by Sahadeva, Uluka, gladdening the Pandavas in that battle, fell from his car to the Earth, all his limbs bathed in blood. Seeing his son killed, Shakuni, his voice choked with tears and drawing deep breaths, remembered the words of Vidura. Having thought for a moment with tearful eyes, Shakuni, breathing deep, came near Sahadeva and pierced him with three arrows. Sahadeva made those arrows vain with a rain of his own and cut Shakuni’s bow.

Seeing his bow cut, Shakuni took up a fierce sword and hurled it at Sahadeva; Sahadeva cut it in two with ease. Then Shakuni hurled a mace, which fell to the ground without reaching its mark. Then, filled with rage, Shakuni hurled a lance terrible as the Night of Doom, which Sahadeva cut into three pieces with his gold-decked arrows; that lance, split like lightning into many sparks, fell to the ground. Seeing the lance made vain and Shakuni afraid, all your soldiers fled in terror, and Shakuni went with them.

Then Sahadeva came upon Shakuni, guarded by the fine cavalry of the Gandharas as he fled. Remembering that Shakuni, allotted to his own share, was still alive, Sahadeva gave chase on his gold-harnessed car. Drawing his fierce bow, he pierced him with vulture-feathered arrows as one might pierce a great elephant with sharp lances. Then, as though reminding him of his old deeds, Sahadeva said, “Fight by the law of the Kshatriya and be a man! In your folly, O gambler, you rejoiced greatly at the dice in that hall! Now receive the fruit of that deed! All those wicked men who mocked us then are dead! Only that stain on his house, Duryodhana, and you, his uncle, are left! Today I will strike off your head with a razor-headed arrow, as one plucks fruit from a tree!”

So saying, the mighty Sahadeva rushed at Shakuni in fury. Reaching him, as though burning him with his wrath, he pierced Shakuni with ten arrows and his horses with four, then cut his parasol, standard, and bow and roared like a lion. Then the wrathful Shakuni, alone, taking up a gold-decked lance, rushed with speed, longing to kill Sahadeva. But the son of Madri, in a single moment, with three broad-headed arrows cut off that upraised lance and both the enemy’s well-formed arms, and roared like a lion. Then the ever-active Sahadeva, with a broad-headed arrow, gold-winged, of hard iron, armor-piercing, struck off Shakuni’s head from his trunk. Struck by that gold-decked arrow bright as the sun, the headless son of Subala fell to the Earth. The son of Pandu, in his wrath, cut off that head which was the root of the evil policy of the Kurus.

Seeing Shakuni lying headless and bathed in blood, your warriors, weapons in hand, fled in terror on every side. Your sons’ cars, elephants, horses, and foot, all broken, fled with pale faces and lost senses at the twang of the Gandiva. Having thrown Shakuni from his car, the Pandavas rejoiced, and blowing their conches with Krishna, they praised Sahadeva, “O hero, by good fortune the wicked-souled Shakuni has been killed with his son at your hands!”

A sub-tale: There is something moving in Shakuni’s remembering the words of Vidura at the death of his son Uluka. Here the Mahabharata gives even its schemer a father’s lone grief. The same Shakuni who set the war in motion now weeps over his son’s body, and the warning of Vidura comes back to him, that the end of this house lay along just this road. The story shows him a broken man, not a demon.

The gist: Sahadeva first strikes off the head of Uluka, Shakuni’s son, then chases the fleeing Shakuni, reminds him of the gambling hall, and cuts off his arms and his head, felling “the root of the evil policy of the Kurus.”

The end of the army, and Duryodhana left alone

Sanjaya says: after this the followers of the son of Subala, ready to give up their lives, began to check the Pandavas. To help Sahadeva to his victory, Arjuna and Bhimasena faced those warriors. With the Gandiva, Dhananjaya undid the purpose of the men who sought to kill Sahadeva with lances, swords, and spears. With his broad-headed arrows Arjuna cut off the horses, the heads, and the weapon-bearing arms of those who rushed at him.

Seeing this slaughter of his army, King Duryodhana filled with rage. Gathering the hundreds of chariots, elephants, horses, and foot that were left, he said, “Face all the Pandavas with their allies, and the Panchala prince, kill them quickly, and come back from the field!” Honoring his command, those hard-to-conquer warriors advanced against the sons of Pritha once more. But the Pandavas covered them all with arrows like venomous snakes. Finding no protector, that army was destroyed in a moment.

O king, eleven akshauhinis of troops had been gathered for your son; and all of them had been killed at the hands of the Pandavas and the Srinjayas! Of the thousands of kings on your side, only Duyodhana was now to be seen alive, sorely wounded, looking about on every side, seeing the Earth emptied, bereft of all his army. The joyful Pandavas, all their aims won, roared aloud. Unable to bear the hiss of the arrows of those fiery heroes, Duryodhana stood stunned. Bereft of army and mounts, he made up his mind to withdraw from the field.

Dhritarashtra asked, “When my army was killed and the camp was emptied, O Sanjaya, how much force was left to the Pandavas? This I wish to know. And my wicked son Duryodhana, the one man left of so many, what did he do when he saw the end of his army?”

Sanjaya says: O king, of that vast Pandava army there remained two thousand chariots, seven hundred elephants, five thousand horse, and ten thousand foot. Guarding this force, Dhrishtadyumna stood firm on the field. King Duryodhana saw not one warrior on his own side. Seeing his enemies roaring and his army destroyed, without a single comrade, he abandoned his slain horse, took up his mace, turned his face to the east, and fled on foot toward a lake.

Before he had gone far, the king remembered the words of the wise and righteous Vidura. Surely the deep-seeing Vidura had foreseen this slaughter of the Kshatriyas long before. Thinking of this, his heart burning with grief at the ruin of his army, the king resolved to enter the depths of that lake. Under Dhrishtadyumna’s lead the wrathful Pandavas fell upon the rest of your army. With the Gandiva Arjuna undid the purpose of those warriors. When the son of Subala fell with his horses, cars, and elephants, your army became like a great forest laid low by a storm. Of Duryodhana’s army of hundreds of thousands, only these great car-warriors were left: Ashwatthama the son of Drona, Kritavarma, Kripa the son of Gautama, and your son himself.

A key to reading this (the akshauhini): One akshauhini is 21,870 chariots, 21,870 elephants, 65,610 horses, and 109,350 foot, some two hundred and eighteen thousand men in all. Duryodhana’s eleven akshauhinis meant close to twenty-four hundred thousand soldiers, brought down on the eighteenth day to a handful. In modern terms it would be the equal of several full army corps.

The gist: The eleven akshauhinis of the Kaurava army are destroyed; on the Pandava side two thousand chariots, seven hundred elephants, five thousand horse, and ten thousand foot remain. Duryodhana, alone, mace in hand, fled toward Lake Dvaipayana and, freezing its waters by his magic, hid within.

Sanjaya set free, and Duryodhana’s entry into the lake

Sanjaya says: seeing me, Dhrishtadyumna said with a laugh to Satyaki, “What is the good of taking this man? Nothing is gained by keeping him alive.” Hearing this, Satyaki, grandson of Shini, took up a sharp sword and made to kill me. In that same moment the deeply wise Krishna, the island-born, that is Vyasa, came there and said, “Let Sanjaya be spared! He is not to be killed by any means!” Hearing Vyasa’s word, Satyaki joined his palms, set me free, and said, “Peace to you, Sanjaya. Go from here!”

By his leave I took off my armor, gave up my weapons, and, my limbs bathed in blood, set out at dusk along the road to the city. After walking about two kos, I saw Duryodhana alone, mace in hand, sorely wounded and standing there. His eyes were full of tears, and so he did not see me. I stood before him in sorrow. He gazed on without knowing me. Seeing him alone, sunk in grief, I too could say nothing for a while. Then I told him all, how I had been taken prisoner and set free by the grace of Vyasa.

After thinking a moment and recovering himself, he asked about his brothers and his army. I told him all that I had seen with my own eyes, that all his brothers were killed and his whole army destroyed. I told him too that at that time only three of our great car-warriors were alive, for so Vyasa had said. Drawing deep breaths, looking at me again and again, your son touched me with his hand and said, “O Sanjaya, save you, no one of all those engaged in this war is alive! I see no one on my own side, while the allies of the Pandavas live! Tell the blind king Dhritarashtra that his son Duryodhana has entered the depths of a lake! Bereft of such friends, sons, and brothers, and seeing my kingdom in the hands of the Pandavas, who like me would wish to live? Tell him that I have come alive out of that grim war, though sorely wounded, and that I will rest in the depths of this lake.” So saying, the king entered that lake, and by his magic power froze its waters and made a place within for himself.

When he had entered, I saw the three great car-warriors of our side, without a single companion, coming there with their weary beasts, Kripa the son of Sharadvat, Ashwatthama the son of Drona, and Kritavarma of the Bhoja line. Pierced with arrows, they all came there. Seeing me, they drove their horses faster and said, “By good fortune, Sanjaya, you live!” Then they asked about the king. I told them that the king was sound in body, and told them all of Duryodhana, and showed them the lake as well.

Then Ashwatthama, casting his eye on that great lake, cried out in grief, “Alas! The king does not know that we still live! With us beside him he could yet fight the enemy!” Those great car-warriors wept there a long while, and, seeing the Pandavas coming, drew off from that place. The three of them set me on Kripa’s well-appointed car and set out toward the Kuru camp. The sun had gone down a little before.

A key to reading this (Krishna the island-born, that is, Vyasa): “Dvaipayana” means “born on an island,” a name of the sage Vedavyasa, for he was born on an island of the Yamuna; and because his complexion was dark, he was “Krishna Dvaipayana.” The “island-born Krishna” here is not Vasudeva Krishna but Vyasa, the very maker of this epic, who gives Sanjaya his life. The lake too bears the name “Dvaipayana.”

The gist: By Vyasa’s word Satyaki set Sanjaya free; on the road Sanjaya met the lone and grief-stricken Duryodhana, who gave him a message for Dhritarashtra and a word that he would hide in the lake. Ashwatthama, Kripa, and Kritavarma took Sanjaya up and returned to the camp.

The queens’ departure for the city, and Yuyutsu’s return to Hastinapura

Sanjaya says: the guards at the edge of the camp, hearing of the death of all your sons, cried aloud in grief. Then the elders set to watch over the women of the royal house took the princesses and set out for the city. Hearing of the ruin of the whole army, the wailing of those weeping women made the Earth ring like a line of ospreys. They tore their bodies with their nails, beat their heads with their hands, loosed their hair, cried aloud, struck their breasts, and filled the air with “Alas!” and “Oh!” as they went toward the city. The friends of Duryodhana, choked with grief and struck dumb with tears, led the women of the royal house toward the city.

The guards of the camp took up the white couches spread with costly coverlets and hurried toward the city. Some set their wives on mule-carts and went. Women who in their own homes had been kept even from the sight of the sun now came before the eyes of common folk as they moved toward the city. Cowherds, shepherds, and common men too, harried by the fear of Bhimasena, looked at one another and fled toward the city.

In the midst of that flight, Yuyutsu, his mind lost in grief, wondered what he should do in this calamity. “The Pandavas have conquered Duryodhana, lord of eleven akshauhinis! All his brothers are killed! Bhishma, Drona, and all the Kauravas are destroyed! By the working of fate, I alone am left! All the people of the Kuru camp are fleeing on every side! Never before was such a sight seen! I too must now take the leave of Yudhishthira and Vasudeva and go into the city with these women.” With this thought that mighty-armed prince came before the two heroes.

King Yudhishthira, ever full of mercy, was well pleased with him. That mighty-armed Pandava embraced the son of the Vaishya woman and sent him off with affection. Mounting his car, Yuyutsu urged his horses on with speed and saw to the journey of the royal women toward the city. The sun was setting. With those women Yuyutsu entered Hastinapura, his eyes full of tears and his voice choked with grief.

There he saw the deeply wise Vidura seated with tearful eyes, for in his grief he had come away from Dhritarashtra’s side. Bowing, Yuyutsu stood before him. The truthful Vidura said, “O son, by good fortune you are alive in this ruin of the Kurus! But why have you come without King Duryodhana? Tell me the reason in full.” Yuyutsu told him all, the flight of Duryodhana after the death of Shakuni, the flight of all toward the city, and his own coming, by the leave of Yudhishthira and Keshava, to guard the people.

Hearing these words of the son of Dhritarashtra’s Vaishya wife, the boundless-souled Vidura praised the eloquent Yuyutsu and said, “You have done rightly, and by your compassion you have kept the honor of your house! By good fortune you have come alive out of this grim, hero-destroying war, as creatures come to look on the bright sun! O son, you alone are now the one support of that blind king, without foresight, struck by calamity, wounded by fate, who could not give up his crooked ways though he was warned again and again! Rest here today; go back tomorrow to Yudhishthira.”

So saying, Vidura took his leave of Yuyutsu with tearful eyes and entered the king’s house, which rang with cries of “Alas!” and “Oh!” That sorrowful house had lost all its splendor; joy and delight seemed to have deserted it. Already grieving, Vidura’s sorrow grew greater at that sight. With a heart heavy with grief, drawing deep breaths, Vidura went in. Yuyutsu passed that night in his own house, but the praises brought him no joy, and he brooded on the fearful slaughter of the Bharatas by one another.

A key to reading this (Yuyutsu): Yuyutsu was a son of Dhritarashtra, but born of a Vaishya serving-woman; so, though of the Kaurava house, he had crossed over to the Pandava side at the very outset, for he stood on the side of dharma. That is why, of the hundred Kauravas, he alone survived. The Mahabharata sets it down as a sign: it is not the house but fidelity to dharma that saves.

The gist: The royal women returned to Hastinapura in mourning; Yuyutsu, by Yudhishthira’s leave, took up the charge of guarding the people and brought the news to Vidura. Vidura called him “the one support of the blind king.”

The vow of the three warriors, and the hunters who found the secret

Dhritarashtra asked, “When the Pandavas had killed all my army, what did my surviving warriors, Kritavarma, Kripa, and the heroic son of Drona, do? And what did the wicked-souled Duryodhana do?”

Sanjaya says: when those Kshatriya women had fled and the camp stood empty, the three great car-warriors filled with dread. Hearing the shouts of victory of the Pandavas and seeing the camp emptied at dusk, they set out toward the lake, longing to guard the king. Meanwhile the righteous Yudhishthira, with his brothers, ranged the field longing to kill Duryodhana, but though they searched with care, the lord of the Kurus was not found. Mace in hand, he had fled at speed and entered that lake, whose waters he had frozen by his magic.

When the Pandavas’ beasts were weary, they returned to the camp and rested. When the sons of Pritha had gone back, Kripa, the son of Drona, and Kritavarma moved slowly toward the lake. Reaching it, they said to that hard-to-conquer king who lay asleep in the water, “Rise, O king, and fight Yudhishthira with us! Win victory and enjoy the Earth, or be killed and go to heaven! The Pandava army too has been cut down by you, and those who are left are sorely wounded! Under our guard they will not bear your charge! So rise, O Bharata!”

Duryodhana said, “By good fortune, O best of men, I see you come alive out of this grim war! When we have rested a little and shed our weariness, we will meet the enemy and conquer him! You are weary and I am sorely wounded! The Pandava army is full of strength! So I do not wish to fight now! Your words are no wonder, for your hearts are noble and your devotion to me is great! But this is no time for valor! Tonight let us rest, and tomorrow I will fight the enemy with you! Of this there is no doubt!”

Ashwatthama, son of Drona, answered, “Rise, O king, peace be to you, and we will surely conquer the enemy! I swear by all my acts of dharma, all my gifts, my truth, and my silent austerities, that this night I will slaughter the Somakas! If this night should pass without my killing the Pandavas, let me not know the joy of the fruit of my sacrifices! Without killing all the Panchalas I will not take off my armor! This I say in truth, believe me!”

While they were speaking thus, some hunters came there. Weary under their load of meat, and with no special purpose, they had come only to slake their thirst. Those hunters brought a basketful of meat every day for Bhimasena. Hidden on the bank of the lake, they overheard all the words of Duryodhana and those heroes. Understanding that the king had turned from the fight and lay within the water, the hunters made a resolve. Some time before, in his search for the king, the son of Pandu had asked them for word of Duryodhana. Remembering that, they whispered to one another, “We will tell the Pandavas of Duryodhana! Then the son of Pandu will give us wealth! It is plain that the famous king Duryodhana is here! Come, let us go to Yudhishthira and tell him that Duryodhana is hidden in the water of this lake! Let us tell the wise Bhimasena too! Pleased, they will give us great wealth! Then what need to weary ourselves carrying meat every day?”

So saying, those hunters, filled with joy and longing for wealth, took up their baskets of meat and set out toward the Pandava camp. Meanwhile the Pandavas, not seeing Duryodhana on the field, had sent spies in every direction to search for him. All the spies had returned and told Yudhishthira that no trace of Duryodhana had been found. Hearing this, Yudhishthira filled with anxiety and began to draw deep breaths.

While the Pandavas were in this gloom, the hunters came in haste from the bank of the lake into the camp and, though held back, came before Bhimasena. They told Bhimasena all they had seen and heard. Then Bhima gave them much wealth and said to Yudhishthira, “O king, the hunters who bring me meat have found out Duryodhana! He for whom you grieve is hidden in a lake whose waters he has frozen!” Hearing this, Yudhishthira, whose enemy was never born, rejoiced with all his brothers.

A sub-tale: Note that the last thread of the eighteen days’ great ruin of Kurukshetra falls into the hands not of some god or great hero, but of a few common hunters carrying meat, who give up the king’s secret in hope of a reward. Here the Mahabharata shows the bitter side of history: the fate of the highest of kings can turn, in the end, on the choice of the lowest of men.

The gist: Ashwatthama swore that very night the grim oath to kill the Panchalas, a seed of what is to come; Duryodhana asked for one night’s rest. Hunters hidden on the bank overheard it all and told Bhima, and so Duryodhana’s hiding was found out.

The Pandavas reach Lake Dvaipayana, and Krishna’s counsel of stratagem

Sanjaya says: on hearing that Duryodhana was in the lake, Yudhishthira, with Janardana in front, went there with speed. Then a great roar of joy went up among the Pandavas and the Panchalas. All the Kshatriyas hurried toward that lake called Dvaipayana. The joyful Somakas cried again and again, “The sinful son of Dhritarashtra is found!” The din of their swift cars seemed to touch the sky.

On their weary beasts they all pressed on behind Yudhishthira, who was bent on finding Duryodhana, Arjuna, Bhimasena, the two sons of Madri, the Panchala prince Dhrishtadyumna, the invincible Shikhandi, Uttamaujas, Yudhamanyu, the great car-warrior Satyaki, the five sons of Draupadi, the surviving Panchalas, all the Pandavas, and hundreds of elephants and foot. The great hero Yudhishthira reached Lake Dvaipayana, wide as the sea, lovely, its water cool and clear. Within it, freezing the water by his magic, Duryodhana lay hidden, mace in hand, that king whom no man could conquer.

Lying in the water, Duryodhana heard the tumult of the Pandava army, deep as the thunder of clouds. Yudhishthira shook the Earth with the rims of his car-wheels and the blasts of his conch. Hearing that sound, Kritavarma, Kripa, and the son of Drona said to the lord of the Kurus, “The Pandavas, joyful and longing for victory, are coming this way! So we will leave this place. Let it be known to you!” Saying this to Duryodhana, they had his answer, “Let it be so,” and he stayed within, his frozen water about him as before. Those grieving great car-warriors took their leave of the king and went off far from the place. Going a distance, they saw a banyan tree, and sat in its shade, weary; and sunk in anxiety for the king and the war to come, they unyoked their horses and rested there.

When those three great car-warriors had gone, the Pandavas reached the lake and saw that mass of water, made magic by your son. Then Yudhishthira said to Vasudeva, “See how the son of Dhritarashtra has laid his magic on this water! He has charmed the water and lies within! Now he fears no man! He has taken refuge in the water by a divine illusion! The knower of trickery has taken this shelter through trickery! But he will not escape me alive! Even if the thunder-armed Indra himself should aid him in battle, men shall see him killed this day!”

Vasudeva said, “O Bharata, destroy the illusion of this illusion-skilled Duryodhana with your own illusion! The knower of illusion must be killed by illusion! This is the truth, O Yudhishthira! By act, by stratagem, and by illusion, kill this Duryodhana who lies in the water in the shape of illusion! Indra too killed the daityas and danavas by act and stratagem! Bali was bound by Upendra, the dwarf, through many stratagems! Hiranyaksha and Hiranyakashipu were killed by stratagem! Vritra too was killed by act! Ravana with his kinsmen was killed by Rama through stratagem! Taraka and Viprachitti, Vatapi and Ilvala, Trishira, Sunda and Upasunda, all were killed by stratagem! Indra too enjoys heaven by act and stratagem! Act is supreme, O Yudhishthira, and nothing else! So take you too the help of stratagem!”

A key to reading this (Krishna’s rule of “illusion against illusion”): Here the moral complexity of the story is plain. Krishna himself counsels Yudhishthira, in place of straight and open war, to use “stratagem,” craft and device, saying that the master of illusion is won only by illusion, and that from Indra to Rama all did just this. The Mahabharata does not hide it; it sets the loosening of the rule in the mouth of its highest character, and leaves it to the reader’s judgment to weigh.

The gist: The Pandavas reached Lake Dvaipayana; the three great car-warriors drew off and rested under a banyan. Krishna counseled Yudhishthira that the illusion-skilled Duryodhana must be won by illusion and stratagem, giving the examples of Indra, Rama, and the rest.

Yudhishthira’s stinging taunts to Duryodhana within the water

Sanjaya says: at these words of Vasudeva, the righteous Yudhishthira, smiling, said to your mighty son lying in the water, “O Suyodhana, having brought all the Kshatriyas and your own house to ruin, why have you entered this water? To save your own life, why have you crept into this lake today? Rise, O king, and fight us! Where is that pride and honor of yours now, that you have charmed the water and taken refuge within it? In all the assemblies men call you a hero, but now that you lie hidden in the water, all that seems a lie! Rise and fight, for you are a Kshatriya born of a noble house, and a Kuru above all! Remember your birth!”

“Fleeing the battle in fear and hiding in the depths of this lake, how can you boast of your birth in the line of the Kurus? To stay away from war is not the eternal law of the Kshatriya! Flight from the field is not the conduct of honorable men, nor does it give heaven! Longing for victory, and yet, without reaching the end of this war, having brought your sons, brothers, fathers, kinsmen, friends, and uncles to slaughter, why do you now stay in the water? You who forever boasted of your courage are no hero! When you called yourself a hero before all, O dull of wit, it was false! Heroes never flee at the sight of the enemy!”

“Cast off fear, rise, and fight! Having brought all your army and your brothers to ruin, if there is any sense of dharma in you, do not now think of saving your life! Relying on Karna and on Shakuni son of Subala, you took yourself for deathless and, in your folly, did not know your own self! Having done such grievous wrong, now fight, O Bharata! How does this flight from war befit a man like you? Where now is that manhood of yours, that pride, that valor, that fire, and that skill in weapons? Rise and fight by the law of the Kshatriya! Either conquer us and rule this wide Earth, or be killed by us and win the road of heroes! The Maker has set this down as your highest duty!”

The gist: Yudhishthira taunted the hidden Duryodhana again and again, that to save one’s life by hiding after the ruin of one’s house is not the law of the Kshatriya; rise and either win, or die and gain the road of heroes.

Duryodhana’s answer, his offer to give up the kingdom, and Yudhishthira’s refusal

Sanjaya says: at these words of the son of Dharma, your son answered from within the water. Duryodhana said, “O king, it is no wonder that fear enters the hearts of creatures! But, O Bharata, I did not leave the war in fear for my life! My car was destroyed, my quivers emptied, my flanking drivers killed! Not one man was left to stand beside me in the fight! For that reason I sought a little rest! Not to save my life, not from fear, not from grief, O king, did I enter this water, but from weariness alone! O son of Kunti, rest a little with your followers! Rising from this lake, I will surely fight you all!”

Yudhishthira said, “We have rested enough! For a long time we have searched for you! So rise now, O Suyodhana, and give us battle! Either kill the sons of Pritha and take this rich kingdom for your own, or be killed by us in war and go to the world of heroes!”

Duryodhana said, “O joy of the Kurus, those for whom I wished the kingdom, my brothers, all lie killed on the field! Bereft of wealth and of its best Kshatriyas, this Earth is widowed, and I no longer wish to enjoy her! Still I have hope that, breaking the pride of the Panchalas and the Pandavas, I might conquer you! But when Drona and Karna are stilled and grandfather Bhishma is killed, there is no more need of war! This shorn and battered Earth is now for you! What king would wish to enjoy a kingdom bereft of friends and allies? Having brought to slaughter such friends, sons, brothers, and fathers, and seeing my kingdom in your hands, who like me would wish to live? I will put on a deerskin and go to the forest! I have no wish for a kingdom! Bereft of friends and allies, I have no wish even for life, O Bharata! This Earth, without a master, without heroes, without wealth, and without strongholds, is yours; enjoy her as you please! I will put on a deerskin and go to the forest!”

Sanjaya says: hearing these grief-laden words, the fiery Yudhishthira said to Duryodhana in the water, “O king, do not raise such a wail of grief from within the water! At such words I feel no more pity for you than Shakuni would! O Suyodhana, you would now give me the Earth as a gift; but I do not wish to rule an Earth given by you! I cannot sinfully take this Earth from you! It is not the law of the Kshatriya to take a gift! I will enjoy this Earth only by conquering you in war! You are no longer even the lord of the Earth; why then this wish to give away what is not yours to give? When we, keeping to dharma and wishing well to our house, asked for our share, why did you not give it? Having first scorned the plea of the mighty Krishna, why now this wish to give away the Earth? What folly is this?”

“Once you would not give us even land the size of a needle’s point! Now how this gift of the whole Earth? What fool, having won such riches and ruled the whole Earth, would think to give that Earth away to his enemies, and in his folly not see how unfit it is? Though you would give the Earth, you will not escape me alive! Either conquer us and rule, or be killed and win the highest road! Once you sought to kill us with poison, with snakes, with fire, by drowning us in water! You wronged us by seizing our kingdom, by harsh words, and by the insult to Draupadi! For all these things, O wicked man, your death is certain! Rise, rise, and fight us, for that is your welfare!”

Sanjaya says: thus, elated by victory, the Pandavas stood there rebuking and challenging Duryodhana again and again.

A key to reading this (land the size of a needle’s point): Yudhishthira’s sharp retort rests on an old moment: in the peace-talks before the war, Duryodhana had declared that he would not give the Pandavas so much land as could be pierced by the tip of a needle. Here that same Duryodhana offers to give up the whole Earth, and Yudhishthira lays bare the contradiction. And Yudhishthira too grants that to take a gift is not the law of the Kshatriya; a kingdom is rightly held only by conquest.

The gist: Pleading weariness, Duryodhana asked for rest and at last offered the whole Earth to Yudhishthira and to go to the forest; Yudhishthira refused a kingdom given as a gift, recalled the old wrongs (the poison, the house of lac, the insult to Draupadi, the needle’s-point land), and held firm to war.

Duryodhana rises from the lake, and the challenge to a mace duel

Dhritarashtra asked, “So rebuked, how did my son, wrathful by nature, a hero and a prince, bear it? He had never heard such taunts before! He who felt shame even to stand in the shade of another’s parasol, who in his fine pride could not bear even the heat of the sun, how did he suffer these words of his enemies? Tell me, O Sanjaya.”

Sanjaya says: so rebuked, O king, your son, lying in the water, heard those bitter words and was filled with grief. Drawing hot, long breaths again and again, lifting his arms again and again, he set his mind on war and answered from within the water. Duryodhana said, “O sons of Pritha, you all have friends, cars, and beasts! I am alone, downcast, without car and without beast! Alone and weaponless, on foot, how shall I fight so many armed and mounted foes? But, O Yudhishthira, fight me one at a time! It is not right for many to fight one, above all when that one is weaponless, weary, wounded, and bereft of beasts and army! Yet, O Yudhishthira, fight me singly.”

“I have no fear at all of you, nor of Bhima, nor of Arjuna, nor of Vasudeva, nor of all the Panchalas, nor of the twins Nakula and Sahadeva, nor of Yuyudhana, nor of the rest of your army! Standing alone, I will face you all! The fame of the righteous rests on dharma! Keeping both dharma and fame in mind, I say this! Rising, I will fight you all! As the year meets all the seasons one by one, so I will meet you all one by one! Today, weaponless and carless though I am, I will free myself of the debt I owe to all those heroic Kshatriyas who fell for me, Bahlika, Drona, Bhishma, the high-souled Karna, the hero Jayadratha and Bhagadatta, Shalya king of Madra and Bhurishravas, my sons, and Shakuni son of Subala! Killing you today with your brothers, I will be free of that debt!” So saying, the king fell silent.

Yudhishthira said, “By good fortune, O Suyodhana, you know the law of the Kshatriya! By good fortune, O mighty-armed one, your mind is set on war! By good fortune you are a hero and skilled in war, for alone you wish to face us all! Fight one of us, with the weapon of your choice! We will all be onlookers! And I grant you this boon too: if you kill any one of us, you shall be king; else, killed by us, go to heaven!”

Duryodhana said, “When you give me the choice to fight one of you, this mace in my hand is the weapon I choose! Let whichever of you thinks himself fit to face me come on foot and fight me with the mace! Many wondrous duels have been fought on cars; today let this be one great and wondrous duel of the mace! By your leave, let the manner of the fight change today! O mighty-armed one, with my mace today I will conquer you and all your younger brothers, all the Panchalas and Srinjayas, and the rest of your army! I have not the least fear even of Indra himself!”

Yudhishthira said, “Rise, rise, O son of Gandhari, and fight me, Suyodhana! Alone, one at a time, mace in hand, fight us! Be a man, O son of Gandhari, and fight with care! Today you must give up your life, even if Indra himself should aid you!”

Sanjaya says: your son, that best of men, could not bear these words of Yudhishthira. Like a great snake within its hole, he drew hot, long breaths within the water. Pierced again and again by the goads of those words, he could not bear them, as a well-bred horse cannot bear the whip. Churning the water with all his strength, breathing deep in his wrath, mace in hand, that gold-decked iron mace of great weight, the hero rose from the lake like a mighty elephant. Cleaving the frozen water, your son rose, like the sun that scorches all things with its rays, the iron mace on his shoulder.

Seeing that best of the Bharatas, mace in hand, like a peak-crowned mountain or the trident-bearing Rudra, casting his wrathful glance on all creatures, all beheld him fiery as the scorching sun in the sky. All the Panchalas saw your prince as thunder-armed Indra or the trident-bearing Hara. Seeing him rise from the water, all the Pandavas and Panchalas clasped one another’s hands in joy. That conduct of the onlookers Duryodhana took as an insult. Rolling his eyes in wrath, as though burning the Pandavas with his glance, knitting his three-lined brow and biting his lip again and again, he said to the Pandavas and Keshava, “O Pandavas, you shall reap the fruit of these taunts! Killed by me today, you shall go with the Panchalas to the realm of Yama!”

Sanjaya says: rising from the water, your son Duryodhana stood there, mace in hand, his limbs bathed in blood. His body, wet with blood and water, looked like a mountain streaming water from within. Mace in hand, the Pandavas saw him like the wrathful son of Surya bearing the club called Kinkara. In a voice deep as a cloud, or as a bull bellowing in joy, Duryodhana challenged the sons of Pritha to battle.

A key to reading this (the rule of fighting one at a time): Duryodhana falls back on an old rule of war: it is unjust for many to fight together against a single, weaponless, weary warrior. On the strength of that rule he claims the right to his chosen weapon (the mace) and his chosen foe. Soon Yudhishthira will turn that same rule against him with the memory of the killing of Abhimanyu, when many great car-warriors ringed one boy and killed him together, one more of the Mahabharata’s mirror-set moral scenes.

The gist: Unable to bear the taunts, Duryodhana rose from the lake, mace in hand, and challenged the Pandavas to a duel one at a time, with his chosen weapon, the mace; Yudhishthira granted the boon that whomever he chose, if he killed him, he would be king, else be killed and go to heaven.

The memory of Abhimanyu, Yudhishthira’s second boon, and Krishna’s warning

Duryodhana said again, “O Yudhishthira, you must fight me one at a time! It is not right for one hero to fight many together, above all when that one is weaponless, worn with toil, wet from the water, his limbs mangled, and bereft of car, beast, and army! Let the gods of heaven watch me fight alone, without harness, armor, or weapon! I will surely fight you all! Be you the judge, for the fitness to decide right from wrong lies in you!”

Yudhishthira said, “O Duryodhana, where was this knowledge of yours when many great car-warriors together killed Abhimanyu in war? The law of the Kshatriya is very cruel, without thought and without mercy! Else how, in those circumstances, did you kill Abhimanyu? You were all knowers of dharma, all heroes, all ready to give your lives! For those who fight by dharma, the winning of Indra’s world is called the highest road! If this is dharma, that many should not kill one, why then, on your counsel, was Abhimanyu killed by many? In danger all creatures forget the thought of dharma, and then the gates of the world beyond seem shut!”

“Put on your armor, O hero, bind your hair, and take whatever else you need! And this second boon too I grant you: with whichever of the five Pandavas you wish to duel, if you kill him, you shall be king; else, killed by him, go to heaven! O hero, save your life, tell us, what other boon shall we give you?”

Sanjaya says: then your son put on golden armor and a fine helmet of pure gold. In his shining golden mail and helmet your son shone like a golden mountain-peak. Armored, mace in hand, and furnished with the rest, Duryodhana stood on the field and said to all the Pandavas, “Let one of you five brothers fight me with the mace! Today I am ready to fight Sahadeva, Bhima, Nakula, Arjuna, or you, O best of the Bharatas! Given the duel, I will surely conquer whichever of you I fight! On the strength of my gold-wrapped mace, O best of men, I will today end this feud so hard to end! It is my thought that in the duel of the mace I have no equal! With my mace I will kill you all one by one! None of you is fit by dharma to face me! Such boasting of myself does not befit me, but before you I will make these words true! This very hour these words shall be proved true or false! Let him among you who would fight me take up his mace!”

Sanjaya says: O king, while Duryodhana was thundering thus again and again, the wrathful Vasudeva said to Yudhishthira, “O king, what hasty thing is this you have said, that if he kills one of us he shall become king of the Kurus? If Duryodhana should choose you for the fight, or Arjuna, or Nakula, or Sahadeva, what then? To kill Bhimasena, Duryodhana has for thirteen years practiced with the mace on an image of iron! How then, O best of the Bharatas, shall our end be won? Out of compassion, O best of kings, you have been over-hasty! At this hour I see no equal to Duryodhana save Bhima, and Bhima’s practice with the mace is not so great! Once more you have played a game like a throw of the dice!”

A key to reading this (thirteen years of mace-practice): Krishna’s warning rests on the fact that Duryodhana was a matchless master of the mace; he had practiced for thirteen years on an iron figure. Yudhishthira’s boon, that if Duryodhana kills any one of the five he becomes king, leaves it open for Duryodhana to choose, in place of Bhima, some weaker mace-fighter, and so put the very victory of the Pandavas in danger. Krishna calls this again “a game of dice,” a sharp glance back at the gambling hall.

The gist: Yudhishthira met Duryodhana’s argument of “one against many” with the memory of the killing of Abhimanyu, and laid bare the hollowness of his plea for dharma, then granted him the second boon of armor and a foe of his choice. Duryodhana chose the mace and the mace-duel. Krishna voiced his fear at Yudhishthira’s generous and hasty vow, for Duryodhana’s thirteen years of practice with the mace stood before them, and the one possible match was Bhima alone. Here opens the door to the mace-duel that closes the Shalya Parva.

Source: the Mahabharata of Krishna Dvaipayana Vyasa, Shalya Parva; in the Gita Press, Gorakhpur tradition.