Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 7 - Draupadi-Satyabhama Samvada and Ghosa Yatra Parva Chapter 3 - Duryodhana Captured by Gandhar

Vaiśampāyana said:

After Karṇa, routed and broken, had fled the field, the Kuru host dissolved in panic. Men cast aside their arms and chariots, fleeing in the very sight of Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son. Yet Duryodhana, obstinate with pride, refused to retreat. Standing alone, he poured upon the Gandharvas a storm of arrows, like a man striving to dam the sea with reeds.

But the celestials closed around him, heedless of his shafts. Their arrows cut to pieces his yoke and shaft, his flagstaff, fenders, poles, and turret. His charioteer was slain, his steeds hewn down, and Duryodhana fell to the earth.

Then Chitrasena, king of the Gandharvas, seized him with such force that it seemed his very life was grasped. The celestial host bound also Duḥśāsana, Vivinsati, Chitrasena (the prince), Vinda, Anuvinda, and others. Even the ladies of the royal household were taken captive.

The remnants of the Kuru warriors, routed and shamed, sought the camp of the sons of Pāṇḍu, who dwelt nearby. They cried out in grief:

“O sons of Pṛthā, behold! The mighty-armed Duryodhana, lordly in form, is carried away in chains! Duḥśāsana, Durvishaha, Durmukha, Durjaya—all are captives of the Gandharvas! The royal ladies too are led away! Protect them, O Pāṇḍavas, for the honor of the Kuru line!”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Hearing these cries, Bhīma, tiger among men, laughed with biting sarcasm and answered:

“What task was ours with toil and fight,

The Gandharvas have wrought aright!

They came for sport, yet fate hath shown

Our burden carried by their own.

The wretch who came in haughty pride,

To mock our grief and wound our side,

Is now himself in bonds of shame—

The world shall mark his humbled name!

Evil counsels brought him here,

And evil fruit hath ripened clear;

See how the gods themselves ordain,

The downfall born of dice and stain!”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Thus spoke Bhīma with sharp delight, pointing to the justice of fate that had humbled the proud. But Yudhiṣṭhira, ever the guardian of dharma, checked him, saying softly:

“This is not the time, O Bhīma, for cruel words. Though our hearts recall the insult of the dice hall and the woe of Draupadī, still these are our kinsmen. Bound by blood, by dharma, and by the honor of our race, we cannot rejoice at their disgrace. We must act as sons of Kuru, not as slaves to wrath.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Seeing Bhīma’s sarcasm, Yudhiṣṭhira, the son of Dharma, rebuked him with grave words. His voice, steady and resolute, carried both wisdom and compassion, as he spoke of kinship, honor, and the duties of kṣatriyas.

Yudhiṣṭhira said:

“O Bhīma, mock not in their grief,

For kinsmen’s strife may know relief.

Disputes may rise, and blood may burn,

But family honor must return.

If strangers seek our house to shame,

The good will guard their kinsman’s name.

Behold, by Chitrasena’s hand,

Our race is wronged upon this land.

Rise now, O tigers, swift and strong,

Redress the insult, right the wrong!

Though foes they be, they came for aid,

Shall Pāṇḍu’s sons turn hearts afraid?

The gift of sons, the gift of throne,

The joy of boons to mortals known—

These equal not the noble gain,

Of freeing foes from bonds of pain.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Thus did Yudhiṣṭhira remind his brothers: even Duryodhana, though hostile, was kinsman, and one who sought shelter could not be abandoned. The liberation of a foe, he declared, was a joy equal to sovereignty, to boons, or to the birth of sons.

He added:

“O Bhīma, my vow restrains me, else I would myself hasten to release them. Therefore you, with Arjuna and the twins, must act. First by conciliation, if the Gandharvas will yield; if not, then by gentle skirmish; and if still denied, then by force. Thus alone shall we preserve the honor of our house.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Hearing these words of Ajātaśatru, Arjuna, ever obedient to his elder, pledged himself to the task.

Arjuna said:

“If peace may free the Kurus bound,

Then peace shall be the path I sound.

But if the Gandharva king deny,

This day his blood shall stain the sky!

The earth shall drink Chitrasena’s gore,

If he release our kin no more;

By might of arms, by dharma’s claim,

I vow to guard the Kuru name!”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Hearing the solemn pledge of Arjuna, the despairing Kauravas, who had been sunk in grief, regained their courage. Their hearts steadied once more, for they knew that the sons of Pāṇḍu—though wronged and humiliated—would yet defend their kin when family honor was at stake.

Vaiśampāyana said:

Hearing the words of Yudhiṣṭhira, the sons of Pāṇḍu rose like lions roused from rest. Their faces shone with joy, for dharma itself had summoned them. At once they clothed themselves in shining mail—impenetrable, inlaid with gold, resplendent as fire. Taking up their celestial bows and weapons, they mounted chariots adorned with tall flagstaffs and drawn by steeds fleet as the wind.

They blazed forth, O king, like guardians of the worlds, each one radiant in strength. And as they advanced together, eager for battle, the Kuru army raised a loud cheer, their despair melting into hope.

But the Gandharvas, flushed with their victory, turned again, arraying themselves in battle formation upon beholding the four sons of Pāṇḍu. Their forms glowed with celestial light, and the forest seemed to burn with the clash of mortal and heavenly powers.

At first, mindful of Yudhiṣṭhira’s words, the Pāṇḍavas engaged in but a light skirmish, striking gently to test the will of the foe. But when Arjuna, son of Pṛthā, saw that the soldiers of the Gandharva king understood not conciliation, he raised his voice.

“Release the Kuru king, I pray,

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And let the women go their way.

Suyodhana, though kin and foe,

Claims refuge we as kinsmen owe.

Acts unworthy stain your hand—

To seize a prince, to shame his band,

To sport with wives of other men—

These deeds misfit the king of heaven.

At Yudhiṣṭhira’s high command,

Release these lords of Kuru’s land;

But if ye will not set them free,

Then taste today the might of me!”

Vaiśampāyana said:

So spoke Dhanañjaya, skilled in arms, ambidextrous with his bow. But the Gandharvas only laughed, and answered with words of pride:

“There is but one in all the worlds whose command we heed, under whose rule we live in joy. Other than that sovereign, no mortal prince may command the dwellers of heaven!”

Thus they mocked, and Arjuna’s eyes blazed. He raised the Gāṇḍīva, and from its string he loosed a shower of shafts—keen, sky-rending, blazing like tongues of fire. The arrows fell thick upon the hosts of the firmament, cleaving their ranks.

But the Gandharvas, skilled in war, returned blow for blow. Their arrows came like the rain of monsoon upon the earth, and the sons of Pāṇḍu met them arrow for arrow, thunder for thunder.

“Sky clashed with earth in that dread fight,

Celestial flames with mortal might;

The shafts like meteors streaked the sky,

And forest roared with battle-cry.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Thus raged the battle, fierce and terrible, between the swift rangers of heaven and the impetuous sons of Pāṇḍu. The earth shook beneath the fury of arms, and even the trees of Dvaita grove trembled, as if the forest itself feared the meeting of men and immortals.

Vaiśampāyana said:

Then the Gandharvas, decked in golden garlands, masters of celestial weapons, ringed the sons of Pāṇḍu from every side. Though only four in number, the Pāṇḍavas stood against thousands, and the fight blazed like fire against a storm-wind.

As once they had shattered the cars of Karṇa and Duryodhana, so now the sky-rangers sought to break the chariots of the Pāṇḍavas. But those tigers among men, showering arrows like rain, checked thousands rushing at them. Not a Gandharva could approach within reach of their bows.

Then Arjuna, provoked to wrath, took up his celestial weapons. With the Agneya astra he smote down ten hundreds of thousands, sending them to Yama’s abode. Bhīma, the storm-armed, slaughtered hundreds more with his shafts; and the sons of Mādrī fought with vigor, cutting down Gandharvas by the score.

As they fell in heaps, the rangers of the sky lifted their captives—the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra and their women—high into the air. But Arjuna, swift as thought, surrounded them with a vast net of arrows, binding them as birds within a cage.

From above rained maces, swords, and darts, but Arjuna’s shafts shattered them mid-flight. Heads, arms, and legs fell like stones from the sky, and the Gandharvas reeled in fear. Then Arjuna loosed the Sthūṇakarṇa, Indrajāla, Saura, Agneya, and Saumya weapons, scorching them as Indra’s thunderbolt scorched the Daityas. Wherever they rose in the air, his arrow-nets enclosed them; wherever they charged on the ground, his crescent shafts repelled them.

Seeing his hosts driven back, Chitrasena, king of the Gandharvas, rushed upon Arjuna with a massive iron mace. But swift-handed Arjuna cut it into seven fragments with a flight of arrows. Then the Gandharva lord veiled himself with illusion, fighting unseen. Yet Arjuna, invoking the Śabda-veda astra, pierced the veil and forced him into sight.

“The friend in wrath, the foe in flame,

By weapons’ clash revealed his name;

Illusion torn, the truth was shown—

Chitrasena stood, Arjuna’s own.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Thus revealed, Chitrasena, weary and wounded, cried out:

“Behold in me thy friend, O Pārtha, battling with thee!”

Arjuna, perceiving his ally, at once withdrew his weapons, stilling his fury. Bhīma, Nakula, and Sahadeva too checked their steeds, lowered their bows, and ceased the fight.

Then, in the stillness after the storm, Chitrasena and the sons of Pāṇḍu, seated on their resplendent cars, asked after each other’s welfare, like friends meeting after long trial.

Vaiśampāyana said:

Then Arjuna, mighty bowman of blazing splendor, smiled and asked Chitrasena amidst the host of Gandharvas:

“O friend, what purpose dost thou serve in punishing the Kauravas? Why is Suyodhana, with his wives, led away in bonds?”

And Chitrasena replied:

“O Dhanañjaya, dwelling in my own abode I learned the purpose of Duryodhana and the wretched Karṇa. Knowing ye are exiles, enduring hardship in forest and field, they came hither not in pity but in scorn—desiring to mock your suffering and the sorrow of the daughter of Drupada.

Therefore the lord of the celestials, having known their hearts, commanded me: ‘Bring Duryodhana in chains with his counselors. Protect also Dhanañjaya and his brothers in battle, for he is thy friend and disciple.’ Obeying those words, I came swiftly and seized this wicked wight. Now shall I carry him to the courts of the celestials at Indra’s command!”

Then Arjuna, bowing slightly, answered in noble tones:

“If thou wouldst do what pleaseth me,

Release this prince, though wrong he be;

At Yudhiṣṭhira’s word I pray,

Unbind our kin and end the fray.”

But Chitrasena answered:

“This wretch is ever swollen with pride, O son of Pṛthā. He deceived Yudhiṣṭhira, he wronged Draupadī. He deserves not release. Let the son of Dharma himself, after hearing all, declare his will!”

So all together went before Yudhiṣṭhira the just, and there Chitrasena revealed the truth of Duryodhana’s intent. Ajātaśatru, hearing all, released his cousins from bondage, praising the Gandharvas:

“Fortunate is it for us that, though strong, ye slew not the son of Dhṛtarāṣṭra with his kin and wives. In sparing him, ye have done me great kindness and preserved our family’s honor. I am gladdened at this meeting. Command me—what shall I do for you in return?”

The Gandharvas, well pleased, departed with the Apsaras. Then the lord of the celestials himself descended, sprinkling Amṛta upon the fallen Gandharvas, reviving them in glory.

The Pāṇḍavas, having freed their kin and their women, stood radiant, honored by all the Kurus, blazing like fires upon the sacrificial ground.

Then Yudhiṣṭhira, from affection, addressed Duryodhana in the midst of his brothers:

“O child, attempt no reckless deed,

From rashness bitter fruits proceed.

Live in concord with thy kin,

In peace is strength, in pride is sin.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Dismissed with such words, Duryodhana bowed low to Yudhiṣṭhira, but his heart was torn with shame. Mechanically he set out for Hastināpura, like one robbed of life-breath, crushed by the humiliation of rescue at the hands of those he had sought to deride.

And when the Kaurava prince had departed, Yudhiṣṭhira the just remained in Dvaitavana with his brothers. Surrounded by Brahmanas rich in ascetic power, honored like Śakra among the gods, the son of Dharma passed his forest days in peace.

Vaiśampāyana said:

Dismissed by Yudhiṣṭhira the just, Suyodhana bent his head low, his spirit heavy with grief. The proud prince who once mocked his cousins now walked slowly, unmanned by shame. With elephants, chariots, cavalry, and infantry in train, he moved toward Hastināpura, yet his heart was torn as if pierced by a hundred arrows.

“Once he had come in boastful pride,

Now humbled, crushed, with hope denied;

A moon eclipsed, his radiance fled,

He journeyed home with drooping head.”

Vaiśampāyana said:

At nightfall, the king halted in a grassy land watered by streams, encamping his weary host. Guarded by soldiers on all sides, he lay upon a high bedstead that gleamed like fire, but he himself looked like fire smothered in ashes.

Toward the last watch of the night, Karṇa approached. Bowing low, he spoke with forced cheer:

“O son of Gāndhārī, how fortunate that thou livest still! How fortunate that we, thy friends, behold thee again! Blessed is this day, for thou hast triumphed over Gandharvas who can change form at will. Blessed too that thy brothers, mighty warriors all, stand unscathed after such a superhuman fight!

As for myself, pressed hard on every side, my body torn with their shafts, I fled before thy very eyes. Struck down by the foe’s fury, I could not rally the troops, and sought safety in flight. Yet, O king, a marvel it seemed that I beheld thee return unharmed, thy wives, thy soldiers, and thy chariots safe, delivered from that celestial host. Surely, O Bharata, no other man alive could have done what thou hast done today, standing unbroken amidst thy brothers!”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Thus did Karṇa speak, weaving comfort with praise, but his words fell like salt on a wound. Duryodhana, overwhelmed with sorrow, answered his friend with a voice choked in tears, his heart sinking deeper still.

Vaiśampāyana said:

Then Duryodhana, sighing deeply, answered Karṇa with a voice heavy as thunderclouds:

“O Rādheya, thou knowest not what hath truly passed, and therefore thy words I do not resent. Thou thinkest the Gandharvas were vanquished by me—alas, the truth is otherwise.

Long indeed did my brothers and I, aided by my strength, contend with those sky-born warriors. The slaughter was great on both sides. But when the Gandharvas, taking to the heavens, veiled themselves with illusion and rained weapons from above, our fight ceased to be equal. Defeat was ours—nay, captivity itself.

Bound in sorrow, with wives and children, counselors, attendants, our troops and vehicles—we were borne away through the skies like prisoners of fate. Then some of my soldiers, stricken with grief, fled to the sons of Pāṇḍu—those heroes who never deny aid to the seeker. They cried aloud:

“Behold, O Pāṇḍavas, thy cousin bound,

By Gandharva chains he is fastened down.

His wives, his brothers, in sorrow fly,

Save them, O lords, or shamed we die!

Let not the women of Kuru’s race

Be dragged in chains to dire disgrace.

Protect the honor of your line,

Free them, O sons of Pṛthā divine!”

Vaiśampāyana said:

Hearing such words, Yudhiṣṭhira the just, ever merciful, restrained Bhīma’s wrath and commanded his brothers to set us free. Then those bulls among men, the sons of Pāṇḍu, overtook the Gandharvas.

At first, in gentle tones, they sought our release with conciliation, though they held power to win it by arms. But when the Gandharvas refused, Bhīma and Arjuna and the twins rained showers of arrows upon them.

The Gandharvas, overmatched, fled through the skies, dragging us still in bonds, yet fearing the shafts of Pārtha. Then I beheld a wondrous sight: a vast net of arrows woven by Arjuna, filling the heavens, hemming the foe as a cage holds birds.

Seeing the horizon veiled in his arrows, the Gandharva chief revealed himself. Then Chitrasena and Arjuna, friends of old, embraced each other. They spoke with warmth, asking after each other’s welfare, and the other sons of Pāṇḍu too embraced the king of the Gandharvas, exchanging courtesies.

Thereupon, weapons were cast aside, armor unbuckled, and the Gandharvas mingled in friendship with the Pāṇḍavas. Chitrasena and Dhanañjaya, honoring one another, shone like Indra and Agni in mutual regard.

Vaiśampāyana said:

Then Duryodhana, burning with grief, spoke unto Karṇa with a voice like wind through a broken conch:

“O Rādheya, thou knowest not what hath happened. Therefore I do not resent thy words. Thou thinkest the Gandharvas were vanquished by me with my own energy—but hear the truth.

Long did my brothers, aided by me, fight with them. Great was the slaughter on both sides. But when those sky-rangers ascended to the heavens and fought us from above, our battle ceased to be equal. Defeat was ours—and captivity.

Afflicted with sorrow, we, with our wives, children, counsellors, troops and vehicles, were being dragged through the sky. Then some of my soldiers went in grief to the sons of Pāṇḍu, those heroes who never refuse succour, and spoke thus:

“Behold, O Pāṇḍavas, thy kinsman bound,

In Gandharva chains he is fastened down;

With wives and brothers dragged through air,

Save him and shield our women fair.”