Mahabharata: Volume 8 (16 page)

Vaishampayana said, ‘Having said this about the destruction of the Kurus, with her divine eyesight Gandhari saw everything there. She was immensely fortunate and was devoted to her husband. She was his equal in observing vows. She was always engaged in fierce austerities and was truthful. Maharshi Krishna,
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the performer of auspicious deeds, had granted her many different kinds of boons, including the strength of divine knowledge. The intelligent one
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could see things that were far away and not near, such as the bravest
of men lying down in the field of battle. This made the body hair stand up. It was strewn with bones and hair and there were torrents of blood. Many thousands of bodies were scattered around in every direction. There were elephants, horses, chariots and warriors, completely covered in blood. There were bodies without heads and a large number of heads without bodies. It was strewn with elephants, horses and the bravest of men, deprived of their lives. The place was populated by jackals, wild crows, ravens, herons and crows. It was full of rakshasas, maneaters and delighted ospreys. Inauspicious jackals howled and it was populated by vultures.

‘Dhritarashtra, lord of the earth, obtained Vyasa’s permission. With all the sons of Pandu, with Yudhishthira at their head, with Vasudeva and the king who had lost his relatives
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leading the way, and assembling all the Kuru women, he
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went to the field of battle. The women, who had lost their lords, approached Kurukshetra. They saw their slain sons, brothers, fathers and husbands there. They were being devoured by predatory beasts there, by jackals, wild crows, crows, demons, pishachas, rakshasas and many kinds of beings that roam around in the night. The women saw that place, which was like Rudra’s sporting ground. As they descended from their extremely expensive vehicles, they screamed. The women of the Bharata lineage were miserable and saw a sight that they had not seen earlier. Some roamed around amidst the bodies. Others fell down on the ground. They were exhausted and without their protectors. Some lost their senses. The women of the Panchala and Kuru lineages were extremely miserable. Their minds were numb because of the sorrow, and in every direction, they screamed.

‘Subala’s daughter
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was knowledgeable about dharma. She looked at that terrible field of battle. Having seen the destruction of the Kurus, she approached Pundarikaksha Purushottama and spoke these sorrowful words. “O Pundarikaksha! Look at these
daughters-in-law, whose lords have been slain. O Madhava! Their hair is dishevelled and they are shrieking like female ospreys. They arrived together, remembering the bulls among the Bharata lineage. They are running around separately now, after their sons, brothers, fathers and husbands. O mighty-armed one! These are the mothers of heroes and their sons have been killed. Some are the wives of heroes and the brave ones have been killed. The place is beautiful with those tigers among men, Bhishma, Karna, Abhimanyu, Drona, Drupada and Shalya. They were like blazing fires. The great-souled ones wore golden armour, decorated with molten gold and gems. They wore armlets and bracelets on their arms. They were ornamented with garlands. Spears, clubs, sparkling and sharp swords, arrows and bows were released from the arms of the brave ones. Large numbers of delighted carnivorous beasts have assembled in some places. In some places, they are sporting. In others, they are lying down. O lord! O brave one! Behold. That is how the field of battle looks. O Janardana! As I look at it, I am tormented by grief. O Madhusudana! The Panchalas and the Kurus were like the five elements.
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I never thought that they would be destroyed, or that they would be killed. Thousands of eagles and vultures are tearing apart the best of armour, and dragging and devouring the mangled bodies. Who could have thought of the destruction of Jayadratha, Karna, Drona, Bhishma and Abhimanyu? O Madhusudana! They were regarded as those who could not be killed. I see them slain now. They are being devoured by vultures, herons, wild crows, hawks, dogs and jackals. Those wrathful ones were stationed under Duryodhana’s command. Behold those tigers among men now. They are like fires that have been pacified. All of them deserved to lie down on soft and clean beds. They have been destroyed now and are lying down on the bare ground. At the appropriate time, they were always praised by bards. They are now hearing the many horrible and inauspicious howls of jackals. Those illustrious and brave ones used to lie down on beds earlier. Their limbs used to be smeared with the paste of sandalwood
and aloe. They are now lying down in dust. Vultures, jackals and crows are tearing away their ornaments. They are repeatedly emitting inauspicious and hideous howls. There are bows, arrows, yellow swords and sparkling clubs. They were cheerful and prided themselves on fighting. They are radiant, as if they are still alive. There were many who were extremely handsome, but have been torn apart by carnivorous beasts now. Some possessed eyes like bulls and are lying down, wearing golden garlands. Others, with arms like bludgeons, are still holding their clubs. The brave ones are lying down facing them, like women along their beloveds.
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Others have dazzling armour and sparkling weapons. O Janardana! Thinking that they are still alive, the predatory beasts are not oppressing them. Other great-souled ones have been dragged away by the predatory beasts. Golden garlands have been scattered around in every direction. Those fierce jackals have attacked the illustrious ones who have been slain. Thousands of necklaces have been flung away from their necks. All of them would be praised by bards in the second half of the night.
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In the other half, accomplished minstrels would praise them with many offerings. These excellent women are miserable with grief and are lamenting them now. O tiger among the Vrishni lineage! They are severely afflicted by sorrow and are despondent. O Keshava! The faces of these excellent women are like red lotuses. They are handsome and beautiful, but have dried up now. Some others are no longer crying. They are grief-stricken and reflecting. Miserable, the women of the Kuru lineage are rushing here and there. The women of the Kuru lineage possess golden complexions, like that of the sun. But because of the anger and the tears, the faces now have the hue of copper. Having lamented a lot, some have become quiet. The women no longer know what another one is lamenting. Some have lamented and shrieked for a long time. Those brave ones are now trembling with sorrow and are casting aside their lives. On seeing the many bodies, they are shrieking and lamenting. Others,
with delicate hands, are beating on their heads with their hands. The earth is beautiful, strewn here and there with fallen heads and hands and heaps of other kinds of limbs that have been severed. There are horrible heads without bodies and bodies without heads, a sight that arya women should not see. On seeing this, they are delighted and confused at the same time. Affixing a body to a head, they are glancing at it senselessly. Miserably, they are saying, “This is not he. He is somewhere else.” There are hands, thighs, feet and other parts that have been cut down by arrows. Joining them, they are overcome by misery and are repeatedly losing their senses. There are other bodies without heads, devoured by animals and birds. On seeing these, some of the Bharata women are not recognizing that these are their husbands. O Madhusudana! Others are seeing their brothers, fathers, sons and husbands, killed by the enemy, and are beating their heads with their hands. There are arms holding swords and heads wearing earrings. The earth is impassable because of the mire that the flesh and the blood have created. These unblemished women do not deserve unhappiness and have not been touched by misery earlier. The earth is scattered with their brothers, fathers and sons. O Janardana! Look at the large numbers of Dhritarashtra’s daughters-in-law. Those young women, with excellent hair, are like a herd. O Keshava! What greater misery can manifest itself before me, than that all these women should appear in this form and act in this way? O Keshava! It is certain that I have performed wicked deeds in my earlier lives, since I see my sons, grandsons and brothers killed.” Lamenting in this way, she saw her slain son.’

Vaishampayana said, ‘Oppressed by grief, Gandhari then saw Duryodhana. She suddenly fell down on the ground, like a severed plantain tree in a forest. Having regained her senses, she repeatedly lamented again. On seeing Duryodhana lying down,
covered in blood, Gandhari embraced him and lamented piteously. “Alas! Alas, son!” She was afflicted by grief and lamented, her senses overwhelmed. His extremely broad collar bones were decorated with a golden necklace. Oppressed by grief, she sprinkled him with tears flowing from her eyes. Hrishikesha was near her and she spoke these words to him. “O lord! This war, which would lead to the destruction of relatives, presented itself. O Varshneya! At that time, this best of kings joined his hands in salutation and spoke to me. ‘O mother! In this clash that has arisen between relatives, you must pronounce words of victory over me.’ O tiger among men! Knowing everything about the catastrophe that he had brought on himself, I told him, ‘Where there is dharma, victory exists there. O son! O lord! Since you are fighting without any confusion, you are certain to obtain the worlds that can be conquered through weapons.’ O lord! Having spoken this earlier, I am not mourning him. I am sorrowing over the miserable Dhritarashtra, whose relatives have been killed. O Madhava! Look at my son. He was intolerant and the best among warriors. He was skilled in the use of weapons and was indomitable in battle. He is lying down on a bed meant for heroes. Those whose heads were consecrated
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would advance ahead of this scorcher of enemies. He is lying down in the dust now. Behold the progress of time. It is certain that the brave Duryodhana has attained an end that is not very easy to obtain. He is lying down forwards,
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on a bed loved by heroes. The lords of the earth used to honour and delight him earlier. Earlier, the best of women used to fan him with the best of whisks. He is now being fanned by the best of birds, with their wings. The strong and mighty-armed one is lying down here. Truth was his valour. He was brought down by Bhimasena in the encounter, like an elephant by a lion. O Krishna! Look at Duryodhana lying down, his body covered with blood. O descendant of the Bharata lineage!
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He has been slain by Bhimasena, with an upraised club. O Keshava! Earlier, the mighty-armed one brought eleven akshouhinis
into the battle. He has now been conveyed to his destruction. This Duryodhana was a maharatha and a great archer. He is lying down. He has been brought down by Bhimasena, like a tiger by a lion. He was foolish and disrespected Vidura and his father. He was stupid and wicked and disrespected the aged. That is the reason he has fallen prey to death. He was stationed on this earth for thirteen years, without any rivals. My son was the lord of the earth. He has been slain and is lying down on the ground. O Krishna! I will not see the earth ruled by Dhritarashtra’s son. O Varshneya! It used to be full of elephants, cattle and horses. But this did not last for a long time. O mighty-armed one! I will now see it ruled by others. O Madhava! There will no longer be elephants, cattle and horses. How can I remain alive? Behold. There is a greater hardship for me than the slaying of my son. With the brave ones killed in the battle, these women are around me. O Krishna! Look at Lakshmana’s mother.
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She possesses beautiful hips, but her hair is dishevelled. She is lying down in Duryodhana’s arms and is like a golden altar. When the mighty-armed one was alive earlier, it is certain that this spirited child would nestle herself in his excellent arms and pleasure herself in those arms. How is it that my heart is not shattering into a hundred fragments? I have seen my son, together with his son, slain in the battle. The unblemished one is inhaling the fragrance on the head of her blood-stained son.
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The one with the beautiful thighs is caressing Duryodhana with her hand. How can that spirited one not sorrow over her husband and her son? She is sometimes looking at her son and sometimes at him.
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The long-eyed one is beating her head with her hands. O Madhava! She is falling down on the breast of the brave king of the Kurus. Her complexion is like that of a white lotus. Since the ascetic one had earlier wiped the faces of her son and her husband, she seems to be between two white lotuses too.
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If the sacred texts and what we have heard is true, then it is
certain that the king has obtained the worlds that can be conquered through the strength of arms.”’

‘Gandhari said, “O Madhava! Look at my one hundred sons. They were never exhausted in a battle. In the battle, most of them were killed by Bhimasena’s club. But there is something that is causing a greater grief to me now. With their sons slain, my young daughters-in-law are running around with dishevelled hair. Their ornamented feet used to roam around on the terraces of palaces earlier and must touch the ground, wet with blood, now. As they are whirling and roaming around, crazy and tormented by grief, they are scattering vultures, jackals and crows. There is another one there, unblemished in her limbs. Her waist can be encircled by the hands. On seeing this terrible sight, she is miserable and has fallen down. O mighty-armed one! My mind can no longer find peace after I have seen the princess, Lakshmana’s mother, the daughter of a king. Some see their brothers, others see their husbands and sons slain, lying down on the ground. On seeing that they have fallen down, they are grasping their arms with their own beautiful arms. O unvanquished one! There are middle-aged women and aged ones. With their relatives killed in the terrible clash, they are weeping. Listen. O immensely strong one! Exhausted and confused, they are clinging onto the seats of chariots and the slain bodies of elephants and horses. O Krishna! Behold. There is another one who has picked up the head of her relative, severed from his body. It is beautiful, has an excellent nose and is decorated with earrings. O unblemished one! I think that their crimes in their earlier lives must have been severe. And I, possessing limited intelligence, must have done the same as well. O Janardana! That is the reason we are being repaid by Dharmaraja.
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O Varshneya! Good and evil deeds can never be destroyed. O Krishna! Look at them. They are in the best of ages. They possess beautiful breasts and stomachs. They have been born in noble lineages. They are modest. Their eyelashes, eyes and hair are dark. Confused by sorrow and grief, they are gaggling like a gaggle of geese. O Madhava! They are shrieking like cranes and are falling down. O Pundarikaksha! The faces of these women are like blooming lotuses. Their faces are perfect and the sun’s sharp rays are hurting them. O Vasudeva! My sons were as proud as crazy elephants, and jealous. Ordinary men are now looking at the women from the inner quarters.
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The shields are marked with the signs of one hundred moons. The standards have the complexion of the sun. The armour is golden. The breast-plates are made out of gold. O Govinda! Behold the blazing helmets of my sons as they lie down on the ground. They are like fires into which oblations have been offered. Duhshasana is lying down here, brought down by the brave Bhimasena, the slayer of enemies, with a club that killed heroes. His limbs are drenched with the blood that has been drunk. O Madhava! At the time when Droupadi was afflicted by the gambling, she had urged him on and he
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remembered that.
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O Janardana! To please his brother and Karna, when Panchali was won over by the dice in the assembly hall, he
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had spoken harsh words to her and to Sahadeva, Nakula and Arjuna. ‘O Panchali! You are our servant and our wife. Quickly enter our house.’ O Krishna! At that time, I had spoken to King Duryodhana. ‘O son! Shakuni has been grasped by the noose of death. Abandon him. O extremely stupid one! Understand that your maternal uncle loves a conflict. O son! Swiftly abandon him and make peace with the Pandavas. O extremely stupid one! You do not comprehend. Bhimasena is intolerant. The sharp words that
you have spoken are like inflicting iron arrows and flaming torches on an elephant.’ However, he
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was cruel and proud and struck with words that were like stakes. He released his poison, like a snake towards bulls. Duhshasana is lying down here, stretching out his arms. He has been killed by Bhimasena, like a giant bull by a lion. Bhimasena was extremely intolerant and did something that was extremely gruesome. In the battle, he angrily drank Duhshasana’s blood.”’