Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 1 - Karna-senāpati-nirmāṇa Parva - Chapter 13 - Battle Plans for the 17th Day

Sañjaya said—

Beholding the unrivalled array of the Pāṇḍavas—wrought by Dhṛṣṭadyumna, resistant to every onslaught—the son of Rādhā advanced with leonine shouts, his chariot a thunderhead of rattling wheels and clamorous drums. The earth itself seemed to quake beneath that brazen music. In wrath he trembled—yet his hand was steady—and, setting his own host in counter-array, he hewed through the Pāṇḍava lines like Maghavat among Asuras. He struck Yudhiṣṭhira with a swarm of arrows and took the Dharmarāja upon his right.

Dhṛtarāṣṭra asked—

“How did the son of Adhiratha set his ranks against all the Pāṇḍavas—Dhṛṣṭadyumna to lead, Bhīma to guard—those archers whom even gods might not subdue? Who held our wings and far-wings? How were the warriors placed, and how did battle open? Where stood Vibhatsu when Karṇa moved against Yudhiṣṭhira? Who but Rādhā’s son would dare assail Arjuna, the burner of Khāṇḍava?”

Sañjaya replied—

Hear then the placing of the banners, and how Arjuna came, and how the kings closed rank about their sovereigns. On the right wing stood Kṛpa, son of Śaradvata, with the nimble Magadhas, and Kṛtavarman of the Sātvatas. To their right, Śakuni and fierce Ulūka, with fearless Gāndhāra horse bristling with lances and grim hill-men massed like locusts, held guard. On the left lay the thirty-four thousand saṃśaptakas, vowed to die, thy sons amongst them, all thirsting for Keśava and Arjuna’s blood. Beside them stood Kāmbojas, Śakas, and Yavanas—car and horse and foot—challenging the two Kṛṣṇas at Karṇa’s word. In the centre, helm bright, armlets blazing, the foremost wielder of weapons—Karṇa—glowed at the head of the host, his sons about him, his bow string singing.

Behind the car-force came Duḥśāsana, sun-bright and tawny-eyed, on a mountain-shouldered elephant, files encircling him. After him Duryodhana himself, his uterine brothers mail-clad on high-bred horses, guarded by Madras and Kekayas, shone like the Thousand-Sacrifice amidst the gods. Aśvatthāman and other lordly charioteers followed with war-elephants—temple-juice streaming like rain—ridden by bold mlecchas. Footmen by thousands—axe and sword in hand—kept watch at their knees. The array, raised by a master after Bṛhaspati’s book, moved like a living thing, its wings and far-wings issuing troops as monsoon cloud births cloud.

Seeing Karṇa helm the host, Yudhiṣṭhira spoke to Dhanañjaya, slayer of foes—

“Behold, O Arjuna, the great design he throws—wing and wing resplendent! Take measures that this sea may not drown us.”

Arjuna bowed: “So shall it be. I will unmake the foe by unseating their best. By felling the foremost, I shall fell the forest.”

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The king ordered—

“Thou against Rādhā’s son; Bhīmasena upon Suyodhana; Nakula on Vṛṣasena; Sahadeva on Subala’s son; Satanika on Duḥśāsana; Sātyaki upon Hṛdika’s son; the Pāṇḍya on Droṇa’s son. I will meet Kṛpa. The sons of Draupadī with Śikhaṇḍin shall break the rest.”

Arjuna answered “So be it,” and rode to the van. Then came that car whose steeds were Fire himself, whose pedigree is from Brahman’s own thought—once borne by Brahmā, Īśāna, Indra, Varuṇa in the days of old. Upon that primeval car rode Keśava and Arjuna to war.

Seeing it blaze from afar, Śalya spoke yet again to Karṇa, iron in his voice:

“Lo, the white-steeded car with Kṛṣṇa at the reins—resistless as ripened karma! Lo, Kuntī’s son comes, mowing down what stands before him—the one thou didst ask for. Hear the uproar deep as thunder: those are Keśava and Dhanañjaya. Dust climbs to canopy the sky; the earth is scored by the circles of Pārtha’s wheels. Winds reel through thy ranks; beasts cry ill-omens; a vapoury comet beards the sun. Wolves, tigers, carrion birds face the light and mutter to one another. Thy yak-tails quiver; thy banner shakes; thy swan-swift horses tremble. O Karṇa, from such portents kings by hundreds will lay their crests upon the dust. Hear the conchs! the kettles! the humming bow-strings! Behold Arjuna’s banners—moon-and-starred, bell-garlanded, lightning over stormclouds. See the ape atop his standard, terror of foes, drawing all eyes. See Saṅkhā Pāñcajanya, see Kāustubha flame upon Keśava’s breast; hear Śārṅga’s promise. Gandīva twangs—whetted reeds fly forth and heads like moons fall to earth. Arms—mace-thick, perfumed—drop with weapons still clenched. Horses with eyes and entrails torn, riders crushed, lie in heaps. Elephants—mountain-high—bleed and topple like hills unrooted. Cars fall like spent merits from heaven. Thy army shivers under the diademed Arjuna as kine before a maned lion. He is hid in whirl of men and dust; only his standard’s crest and the thunder of Gandīva tell his path. Thou wilt behold him today, white steeds bright, Keśava at the yoke—both red-eyed chastisers, two tigers on one car. Slay him, and thou shalt be our king. The saṃśaptakas compass him; he drives upon them to reap. See how he reaps!”

Karṇa, enraged, answered:

“Partha is over-set on every side by wrath-mad saṃśaptakas. Like sun in cloud he is hidden. Drowned in that ocean, O Śalya, Arjuna will surely sink.”

Śalya replied—

“Who dams Varuṇa with water?

Who feeds new fuel to quench a fire?

Who snatches wind within a fist,

Or drinks the sea entire?

So measures he who thinks to break

Pārtha with crowded men;

Not gods with Asuras at their back

Unhorse that archer’s ken.

Seek some other work to do—

For Arjuna will not yield;

The arm that lifts the earth itself

Alone could take his field.”

“Look too upon Bhīma,” he said, “Meru-shouldered, wrath banked deep and bright, forever remembering wrongs. There stands the town-taker, Yudhiṣṭhira, hard to shake. There the twin Aśvins of men—Nakula, Sahadeva—unworn by battle. The five sons of Kṛṣṇā—Pāñcāla-featured—burn for fight, as do Drupada’s sons with Dhṛṣṭadyumna swelled in pride. Sātyaki of the Sātvatas, irresistible as Indra, rolls upon us like Time in arms.”

Thus, while those two lion-men contended with their tongues, the armies surged and mingled—like Gaṅgā and Yamunā clasping in flood—and the great battle opened like a storm at dusk.

“Banners like thunderheads, conchs like gales,

Ape-crest aflame above whistling sails;

Karṇa and Pārtha—two meteors hurled—

Drew near to decide the dharma of the world.”