Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 3 - Jayadhratha-Vadha Parva - Chapter 3 - Drona Applies Celestial Armour to Duryodhana

“Sañjaya continued:

Thus the mighty-armed Pārtha, intent on fulfilling his vow, sped onward into the Kaurava host. On either side of his chariot followed the valiant princes of Pañcāla, Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas, guarding his wheels like twin lions guarding a sacred car.

But soon a host of mighty warriors arose to bar his way—Jaya, Kṛtavarman of the Sātvata race, the ruler of the Kāmbojas, and the fierce Śrutāyus, leading ten thousand chariots.

With them came the Abhīṣāhas, the Sūrasenas, the Śivis, the Vasatis, the Mavellakas, the Kaikeyas, the Madrakas, the Nārāyaṇa-Gopālas, and the tribes of the Kāmbojas—all renowned for valour and eager to die for Droṇa’s honour.

At their head stood Bharadvāja’s son, calm amid the storm, as the mountain stands while the clouds roar about it.”

“They rushed like waves at thunder’s call,

While Arjuna blazed to consume them all;

They strove to stay the fire-flood’s breath—

As herbs resist the plague of death.”

“And thus began a battle fierce beyond measure, O king, between that single warrior—the all-destroying Pārtha—and the united hosts of the Kauravas.

Those multitudes, burning to avenge their kin, opposed the son of Pāṇḍu like healing herbs set against a mortal pestilence. But none could stay him who moved with the fury of Time, seeking Jayadratha as Garuḍa seeks serpents to devour.”

Sañjaya said:

“Held in check for a moment by the encircling kings, that foremost of chariot-warriors, Pārtha of terrible might, was quickly pursued from behind by Droṇa. But the son of Pāṇḍu, like a fever scorching the body, blasted that army with keen shafts, even as the sun scatters his countless rays. Steeds were pierced; cars with riders were broken and mangled; elephants were overthrown. Umbrellas were shorn away; wheels sprang from axles; and the combatants fled on all sides, grievously afflicted by arrows. In that press, nothing could be clearly distinguished save the hiss and flare of death.

With straight shafts, O monarch, Arjuna made the hostile host tremble without ceasing. Firm in truth and fierce in vow, the son of Kuntī, white-steeded, drove straight upon the foremost of car-warriors—Droṇa of the red steeds. Then the preceptor smote his disciple with five-and-twenty arrows that sought the vitals. Vibhatsu, foremost in all arms, rushed back upon him, loosing counter-shafts that baffled each keen barb of the master.

“Cloud unto cloud their weapons poured,

The guru’s rain, the pupil’s flame;

The Brahma-weapon Pārtha stored,

And broke the storm from which it came.”

Invoking the Brahma-weapon, Arjuna blunted Droṇa’s torrent; yet the skill of the preceptor shone wondrous, for though Pārtha strove with youthful strength, he could not once pierce his master. The Droṇa-cloud rained on the Pārtha-mountain; Arjuna, high in energy, received that deluge, cutting every shaft with shafts. Then Droṇa smote Pārtha with five-and-twenty, and Vāsudeva on chest and arms with seventy. Smiling, Pārtha bore the incessant pelting and answered in kind.

But those two foremost among car-warriors, thus assailed by Droṇa—invincible as the fire of Time—avoided his edge and sped away from that immovable mountain, seeking the slaughter of Jayadratha. Turning aside from Droṇa, Arjuna wheeled between Kṛtavarman and Sudakṣiṇa, ruler of the Kāmbojas.

The tiger among men, lord of the Bhojas, cool and deadly, first pierced Arjuna, scion of Ruru’s line, with ten Kanka-feathered shafts. Arjuna answered with a hundred—and thrice again, till the Sātvata hero was for a moment bewildered. Kṛtavarman laughed and struck both Pārtha and Vāsudeva with five-and-twenty each. Pārtha cut his bow and sent one-and-twenty blazing shafts into his breast; but Hṛḍika’s son, seizing another bow, smote Arjuna anew with fives upon the chest. Pārtha returned with nine. Seeing Kṛtavarman detain the son of Kuntī, the Vṛṣṇi, thinking the hour too dear to lose, spoke swiftly.

“Kinship yields to dharma’s fire—

Strike him down and spare the wire!

Let no tender bond delay

Vows that burn to light the way.”

Thus urged, Arjuna stunned Kṛtavarman with a storm of arrows and pressed his white steeds into the Kāmboja ranks. Inflamed at Pārtha’s passage, Kṛtavarman turned upon the Pañcāla princes who guarded the wheels—Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas—and checked them with a hail of barbs. He struck the first with three, the second with four; they answered with tens apiece, then lopped his standard and bow. Hṛḍika’s son, taking a fresh bow in wrath, disarmed them both and wrapped them in darts; yet they, seizing new bows, pierced him again—while Vibhatsu, unhalting, cleft deeper into thy host. For all their valorous striving, those bulls among men, held by Kṛtavarman, won no entry into Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sea of troops.

Meanwhile, Arjuna of white steeds smote the opposing divisions without respite; yet he slew not Kṛtavarman though the Bhoja lay within his grasp. Beholding Pārtha thus drive on, king Śrutāyudha, brave and burning, rushed, shaking a vast bow. He pierced Pārtha with three and Janārdana with seventy; he shore Pārtha’s standard with a razor-head shaft. Arjuna, wrathful, planted ninety straight shafts in him, as a driver goads a mighty tusker. The king answered with seven-and-seventy, till Pārtha cut bow and quiver, and struck his chest with seven keen points. Maddened, Śrutāyudha seized another bow and smote the son of Vasava with nine upon arms and breast. Laughing softly, Pārtha rained thousands on the king, and quickly slew his steeds and charioteer; then pierced him with seventy more.

Śrutāyudha, steedless, leapt from his car and ran upon Pārtha with uplifted mace. Hear now, O king, the tale of that weapon and the fate bound to it.

“From Varuṇa’s hand a mace was won,

For Pārṇasā’s river’s valiant son;

‘Unsayable on earth to foes,’

Said Ocean’s lord—‘save this: oppose

None unengaged; if wrongly hurled,

It turns and strikes its master, whirled.’

Fate keeps the vows that gods decree—

What is to be, must surely be.”

When his hour arrived, Śrutāyudha forgot the interdiction. With that slayer’s mace he rushed and hurled it at Janārdana, who fought not with weapon raised. Keśava received it upon a broad, firm shoulder; it shook not Sauri, as the wind shakes not the Vindhya. The mace, obedient to the curse, turned in its flight and smote Śrutāyudha himself upon his car. Thus slain by his own mis-thrown power, he fell in the sight of all—like a great banyan shorn of its spreading boughs by storm. A cry of “Alas! Oh!” went up from the ranks; for he died as Varuṇa had foretold, the weapon punishing the hand that broke its law.

“Law is a wheel that none may stay,

It rolls the proud and low the same;

He who to adharma gives sway

Is first and last the fuel of flame.”

Then Sudakṣiṇa, son of the Kāmboja lord, spurred his swift steeds and rushed at Phālguna. Pārtha sped seven shafts that passed clean through the hero into the earth; Sudakṣiṇa answered with ten barbs upon Arjuna, and three upon Vāsudeva, then five again on Pārtha. The son of Pāṇḍu shore his bow and lopped his pennon; with two broad-heads he struck him hard. Sudakṣiṇa, roaring, hurled an iron dart bell-girt and blazing like a meteor; it pierced the mighty car-warrior and fell to earth. Reeling, Pārtha swooned but an instant; licking the corners of his mouth, the inconceivable archer rose in wrath and with fourteen Kanka-feathered shafts pierced foe, steeds, charioteer, bow, and standard. With countless arrows he shattered the car entire, and with a keen point he smote the prince full in the chest.

“Gold-turbaned, bright with coppery eye,

Fair Sudakṣiṇa sank from high;

A springing karnikāra felled,

A mountain’s crest by tempest quelled.”

His mail cut from him, his limbs unstrung, his diadem and armlets loosed, Sudakṣiṇa fell headlong—like Indra’s pole hurled from the engine. Beautiful as a mountain with level crown, he lay upon the bare earth, bereft of life, though fit for a bed of kings.

Seeing Śrutāyudha and Sudakṣiṇa slain, all thy troops turned and fled, O king—their hearts unstrung, their standards fallen, their fortune broken.”

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Sañjaya said:

Upon the fall of Sudakṣiṇa and the heroic Śrutāyudha, O monarch, thy warriors, filled with wrath, rushed in speed against Pārtha. The Abhiṣāhas, the Sūrasenas, the Śivis, the Vasatis showered their arrows upon Dhanañjaya. Then the son of Pāṇḍu consumed at once six hundred of them with his shafts. Terrified, they fled like smaller creatures from a tiger, yet rallying again they surrounded Pārtha, who was slaying and scattering his foes.

“He reaped their ranks with iron rain,

And heads and arms like blossoms fell;

Dark birds thick-winged obscured the plain—

A canopy of battle’s knell.”

Not an inch of earth was free from severed heads, while crows, vultures, and ravens hovered like a cloud. Beholding their men thus exterminated, Śrutāyus and Acyutāyus, endued with great might and proud in lineage, contended vehemently with Dhanañjaya. For thy son’s sake they sought Pārtha’s destruction, and from both right and left poured their arrowy deluge, covering him like twin rainy masses filling a lake.

Then Śrutāyus, filled with wrath, struck Dhanañjaya with a well-tempered lance. Deeply pierced, the crusher of foes swooned away, so that Keśava also was troubled to behold him. Meanwhile Acyutāyus smote the son of Pāṇḍu with a keen spear, as one pouring acid on an open wound. Sorely stricken, Pārtha seized the flag-staff for support. A leonine shout then burst from all the troops, believing Dhanañjaya slain; and Vāsudeva’s heart was scorched with grief. But Keśava comforted him with gentle words.

“Rise, O bow of gods and men;

Thy vow is fire, thy breath is wind.

Night yields to thee; now rise again—

Let darkness break where arrows sing.”

Those foremost of car-warriors, Śrutāyus and Acyutāyus, true of aim, rained on all sides such shafts that Arjuna and the Vṛṣṇi’s car, wheels, poles, steeds, flagstaff, and banner were made invisible—marvellous to behold. Slowly Vibhatsu regained his senses, like one returned from the very halls of Yama. Seeing his car with Keśava overwhelmed and those two blazing foes before him, the mighty Pārtha invoked Indra’s weapon. From it flowed thousands of straight shafts that smote Śrutāyus and Acyutāyus; the arrows they had sped were cloven mid-air and whirled aside.

“The thunder split the falling rain,

The storm unbound the storm it met;

Two trees of pride on Kurus’ plain

He hewed—root, crown—and left them set.”

By Arjuna’s showers the two were shorn of arms and heads, and fell like tall trees broken by the wind. Their deaths stirred wonder as if men had seen the ocean’s waters drained. Then, slaying fifty car-warriors of their following, Pārtha pressed on, overthrowing many chiefs.

Beholding both princes slain, their sons Niyatāyus and Dīrghāyus, stung by grief, rushed upon Kuntī’s son and in a moment were despatched by straight shafts to Yama’s abode. None among the Kṣatriyas could withstand Pārtha as he agitated the Dhārtarāṣṭra ranks like an elephant troubling a lotus-lake.

Then thousands of trained elephant-riders of the Aṅgas, urged by Dur­yodhana, surrounded the son of Pāṇḍu; and many western and southern kings, with the Kalinga ruler at their head, came with hill-like elephants. Pārtha, with shafts from Gāṇḍīva, swiftly struck off the heads and arms of those advancing—golden-circled limbs falling like stones entwined with serpents; the severed arms fluttered downward like birds from shaken boughs. Elephants, wounded by thousands of arrows and streaming blood, looked like rainy-season hills with red chalk liquefied upon their sides; others, pierced through, lay prone.

Many Mlecchas on elephants—of many ugly forms and garb, armed diversely—lay bathed in blood, felled by keen shafts. Thousands of elephants with riders and footmen goading them vomited blood, shrieked, fell, or ran ungovernable, crushing their own. The reserves, fierce as venom-snakes, did likewise. Yavanas, Pāradas, Śakas, Bāhlikas, and Mlecchas of Vasiṣṭha’s cow—fierce-eyed, skilled in asuric deceits—together with Darvābhisaras, Daradas, and Puṇḍras in countless bands showered sharp shafts upon the son of Pāṇḍu. Accomplished in all modes, those Mlecchas covered Arjuna; upon them Dhanañjaya poured in turn, his arrows like locust flights across the sky.

“He cast a cloud of iron shade,

Then split it with his lightning line;

Shorn heads, half-shorn, with matted braid—

Fell where his fatal feathers shine.”

Hill-dwellers and cave-men, pierced, fled in fear. Ravens, herons, and wolves drank with joy the blood of elephants, steeds, and riders overthrown by Pārtha’s shafts. He made a fierce river flow, its current blood; its banks—slain footmen, steeds, cars, and elephants; its rafts—arrow-showers; its weeds—the hair of warriors; the fingers lopped—its little fish; awful as Death at Yuga’s end. It flowed towards Yama’s realm; the floating carcasses of elephants checked its course. Earth was all one bloody expanse, as when Indra’s torrents drown uplands and lowlands alike.

That bull among Kṣatriyas sent six thousand horsemen and again a thousand foremost chiefs into Death’s jaws. Thousands of well-equipped elephants, arrow-pierced, lay like hills struck by thunder. Arjuna careered, slaying steeds, cars, and tuskers, like an elephant of rent temples crushing a reed-forest.

“A forest fired by wind he seemed—

His shafts the flames, Keśava wind;

Thy wood of war was burned and streamed,

Till ash was all thy ranks could find.”

Emptying car-terraces and strewing earth with bodies, Dhanañjaya seemed to dance, bow in hand, amid those vast masses. Deluging the earth with blood by thunder-strong shafts, wrath-enkindled, he pierced deep into the Bhārata host. As he advanced, Śrutāyus, ruler of the Aṃvaśthas, resisted him. Pārtha swiftly felled his steeds with keen Kanka-feathered shafts and, with others, cut his bow; then coursed on. The Aṃvaśtha king, eyes anger-troubled, seized a mace and strode upon Pārtha and Keśava, striking the car and even Vāsudeva.

Beholding Keśava struck, Arjuna blazed with wrath and covered that mace-armed chief with gold-winged arrows like clouds veiling the risen sun. With other shafts he shivered the mace to dust—marvellous to see. The ruler of the Aṃvaśthas, grasping another huge mace, smote again at both. Then Arjuna with two sharp, broad-faced arrows shore off his uplifted arms that held the mace—arms like twin Indra standards—and with another winged shaft he struck off the head.

“He fell like Indra’s banner tall,

When cords are cut and engines fail;

One crash, one cloud of dust—and all

The circle hushed, grown ashen-pale.”

Surrounded then on all sides by wreathing ranks of cars and hundreds upon hundreds of elephants and chariots, Pārtha became invisible like the sun wrapped in cloud.

Sañjaya said:

“After the son of Kuntī, eager to slay the ruler of the Sindhus, had pierced through the irresistible divisions of Droṇa and the Bhojas—after the Kāmboja prince Sudakṣiṇa had fallen, and the valiant Śrutāyudha too—thy ranks broke and fled, confusion rising on all sides. Beholding his shattered army, thy son hastened to Droṇa upon his car.

Coming swiftly, Duryodhana said, ‘That tiger among men, Arjuna, has crushed this vast host and passed through. With thy judgment, O preceptor, consider what should now be done to compass his fall, for the carnage is dreadful. Like a wind-urged conflagration consuming heaps of dry grass, the Dhanañjaya-fire is devouring my troops. Seeing him pierce our front, those appointed to guard Jayadratha are shaken in heart. It was the settled conviction of the kings that Arjuna could never pass thee alive. Yet, he has cleft thy division before our eyes—my army seems strengthless; indeed, I think I have no troops left.

O blessed one, I know thy love for the Pāṇḍavas. My reason fails me pondering what to do. I strive to honour thee, yet thou rememberest it not. Mighty in prowess, though we depend on thee, thou seekest not our welfare; thou art ever well-pleased with the Pāṇḍavas and turnest to our hurt—drawing livelihood from us, yet cutting us like a razor steeped in honey. Hadst thou not granted me the boon to humble and check the Pāṇḍavas, I would not have detained the Sindhu king. Expecting thy protection, I bound him to me and, through folly, offered him to death. A man may escape even from Death’s jaws, but Jayadratha cannot, once he comes within the reach of Dhanañjaya’s arms. O thou of red steeds, devise that by which the Sindhu ruler may yet be saved. Pardon the delirium of one afflicted; protect the king of Sindhu.’”

“Fate like a wheel rolls fire and foam,

And men are spokes within its rim;

A promise binds the guest to home—

And hosts may perish keeping him.”

Droṇa said:

“I blame not thy words. Thou art as dear to me as Aśvatthāman—truly I say it. Yet act now by my counsel, O king. Of drivers, Kṛṣṇa is foremost; his steeds are peerless. Through the narrowest space, Dhanañjaya will pass. Seest thou not his shafts, countless, falling two miles behind his car as he speeds? I, burdened with years, cannot match that pace. And the Pāṇḍava host is upon our van. Yudhiṣṭhira must be seized by me—such was my vow in the sight of all bowmen and kings. He stands at his army’s head, abandoned by Dhanañjaya. I will not leave our gate to fight Phālguṇa. It is meet that thou, well-supported, shouldst face thy foe—alone he comes, thy equal in birth and deeds. Fear not. Go against him thyself—thou art king, hero, renowned in conquest.”

Duryodhana said:

“How shall I resist Dhanañjaya who has overpassed even thee, foremost of wielders of weapons? The lord of celestials armed with thunder might be vanquished, but not Arjuna, subduer of cities. He who has beaten Hṛḍika’s son Kṛtavarman, and thee like a god—he who has slain Śrutāyus, Sudakṣiṇa, and the king Śrutāyus also; he who felled both Śrutāyus and Acyutāyus and myriad Mlecchas—how can I stand against that all-consuming fire, that master of every weapon? I am dependent on thee as a slave; protect my fame.”

Droṇa said:

“Thou speakest truth—Dhanañjaya is hard to withstand. Yet I will do that whereby thou shalt endure him. Let all bowmen behold today the marvel—Kuntī’s son held in check by thee even in Keśava’s sight. This golden armour I will bind upon thee so that no man’s weapon may wound thee. Though the three worlds with Asuras, celestials, Yakṣas, Uragas, Rākṣasas and men contend with thee, fear not. Neither Kṛṣṇa, nor the son of Kuntī, nor any wielder of arms will pierce this coat. Cased thus, go quickly against the wrathful Arjuna—he will not bear thee.”

“He spoke and touched the sanctifying wave,

Low-voiced intoned the guarded hymn;

Bright mail like sunrise, god-forged, brave,

He clasped on Kuru’s lion-limb.”

Sañjaya said:

Having spoken, Droṇa—foremost knower of Brahman—touched water, uttered the prescribed mantras, and swiftly bound upon Duryodhana that wondrous, radiant armour, so that all there marvelled. And Droṇa blessed him: “Let the Vedas, Brahman, and the Brāhmaṇas favour thee. Let the higher reptiles be thy blessing. Let Yayāti, Nahuṣa, Dhundhumāra, Bhagīratha and the royal sages aid thee. Blessings from one-legged beings, and the many-legged, and those with none; from Svāhā, Svadhā, and Śacī; from Lakṣmī and Arundhatī. Let Asita, Devala, Viśvāmitra, Aṅgiras, Vasiṣṭha, and Kāśyapa prosper thee. Let Dhātr̥, the lord of worlds and quarters, their regents, and six-faced Kārttikeya grant thee good. Let Vivasvān benefit thee wholly. Let the elephants of the quarters, the earth, the firmament, the planets, and he beneath who upbears her—Śeṣa, foremost snake—do thee service.”

Then Droṇa recounted the ancient tale:

“When Vṛtra smote the lords of light

And Indra’s host lay shorn of flame,

They sought Brahmā in their plight,

Whose truth is law, whose word is aim.

‘To Maheśvara go,’ said he,

‘To Mandara’s height where penance burns;

Win Śaṅkara’s grace and panoply—

From him the tide of battle turns.’

Hara, boon-giver, god of gods,

Gave Indra mail with mantra-seams;

No blade could part its jointed nodes—

In that bright coat he quelled Vṛtrī.”

Droṇa continued:

“Indra gave that armour, whose joints are mantras, to Aṅgiras; Aṅgiras to his son Bṛhaspati; Bṛhaspati to Agniveśya; Agniveśya to me. With those very mantras, O best of kings, I bind this mail upon thee.”

“As Brahmā girt great Viṣṇu erst,

As Brahmā armed Śakra ‘gainst Tārakā’s war,

So do I clasp—by hymns rehearsed—

This mail on thee: be diamond-cored.”

Sañjaya said:

Thus with mantra did the twice-born bind the armour upon Duryodhana and sent him forth. Then the mighty-armed king, cased in that divine coat, skilled in the stroke, set out with a thousand maddened tuskers of great might, a hundred thousand horses, and many foremost car-warriors toward Arjuna’s car. The king advanced to the thunder of many instruments, like Virocana’s son of old moving against his foe. And a loud uproar rose among thy troops, O Bhārata, beholding the Kuru king surge forth like a fathomless ocean.”