(Stri-vilapa-parva)
Vaishampayana said, "Having said these words, Gandhari, though staying on that spot which was distant from the field of battle, beheld, with her spiritual eye, the slaughter of the Kurus. Devoted to her lord, that highly blessed lady had always practised high vows. Undergoing the severest penances, she was always truthful in her speech. In consequence of the gift of the boon by the great rishi Vyasa of sanctified deeds, she became possessed of spiritual knowledge and power. Piteous were the lamentations in which that dame then indulged. Endued with great intelligence, the Kuru dame saw, from a distance, but as if from a near point, that field of battle, terrible to behold and full of wonderful sights, of those foremost of fighters. Scattered all over with bones and hair, and covered with streams of blood, that field was strewn with thousands upon thousands of dead bodies on every side. Covered with the blood of elephants and horses and car-warriors and combatants of other kinds, it teemed with headless trunks and trunkless heads. And it resounded with the cries of elephants and steeds and men and women and abounded with jackals and cranes and ravens and kankas and crows. And it was the sporting ground of Rakshasas subsisting on human flesh. And it swarmed with ospreys and vultures and resounded with the inauspicious howls of jackals. Then king Dhritarashtra, at the command of Vyasa, and all the sons of Pandu with Yudhishthira at their head, with Vasudeva and all the Kuru ladies, proceeded to the field of battle. Those ladies, bereaved of their lords, having reached Kurukshetra, beheld their slain brothers and sons and sires and husbands lying on the ground, and in course of being devoured by beasts of prey and wolves and ravens and crows and ghosts and Pishacas and Rakshasas and diverse other wanderers of the night. Beholding that carnage which resembled the sights seen on the sporting ground of Rudra, the ladies uttered loud shrieks and quickly alighted from their costly vehicles. Witnessing sights the like of which they had never before witnessed, the Bharata ladies felt their limbs to be deprived of strength and fell down on the ground. Others became so stupefied that they lost all their senses. Indeed, the Pancala and the Kuru ladies were plunged into unutterable distress. Beholding that dreadful field of battle resounding on every direction with the cries of those grief-stricken ladies, the daughter of Subala, acquainted with every duty, addressed the lotus-eyed Keshava, that foremost of all men. Witnessing that universal slaughter of the Kurus and filled with grief at the sight, she said these words: 'Behold, O lotus-eyed Madhava, these daughters-in-law of mine! Deprived of their lords, they are uttering, with dishevelled hair, piteous cries of woe like a flight of she-ospreys. Meeting with those dead bodies, they are calling back to their memories the great Bharata chiefs. They are running hither and thither in large bands towards their sons and brothers and sires and husbands. Behold, O mighty-armed one, the field is covered with mothers of heroes, all of whom, however, have been bereaved of children. There, those portions again are covered with spouses of heroes, who have, however, been bereaved of their spouses! Behold, the field of battle is adorned with those tigers among men, Bhishma and Karna and Abhimanyu and Drona and Drupada and Shalya, as if with blazing fires. Behold, it is adorned also with the golden coats of mail, and with the costly gems, of high-souled warriors, and with their angadas, and keyuras and garlands. Behold, it is strewn with darts and spiked clubs hurled by heroic hands, and swords and diverse kinds of keen shafts and bows. Beasts of prey, assembled together, are standing or sporting or lying down as it likes them! Behold, O puissant hero, the field of battle is even such. At this sight, O Janardana, I am burning with grief. In the destruction of the Pancalas and the Kurus, O slayer of Madhu, I think, the five elements (of which everything is made) have been destroyed. Fierce vultures and other birds, in thousands, are dragging those blood-dyed bodies, and seizing them by their armour, are devouring them. Who is there that could think of the death of such heroes as Jayadratha and Karna and Drona and Bhishma and Abhimanyu? Alas, though incapable of being slain, they have yet been slain, O destroyer of Madhu! Behold, vultures and Kankas and ravens and hawks and dogs and jackals are feasting upon them. There, those tigers among men, that fought on Duryodhana's side, and took the field in wrath, are now lying like extinguished fires. All of them are worthy of sleeping on soft and clean beds. But, alas, plunged into distress, they are sleeping today on the bare ground. Bards reciting their praises used to delight them before at proper times. They are now listening to the fierce and inauspicious cries of jackals. Those illustrious heroes who used formerly to sleep on costly beds with their limbs smeared with sandal paste and powdered aloe, alas, now sleep on the dust! These vultures and wolves and ravens have now become their ornaments. Repeatedly uttering inauspicious and fierce cries those creatures are now dragging their bodies. Delighting in battle, those heroes, looking cheerful, have still beside them their keen shafts, well-tempered swords, and bright maces, as if life has not yet departed from them. Many foremost of heroes, possessed of beauty and fair complexions and adorned with garlands of gold, are sleeping on the ground. Behold, beasts of prey are dragging and tearing them. Others, with massive arms, are sleeping with maces in their embrace, as if those were beloved wives. Others, still cased in armour, are holding in their hands their bright weapons. Beasts of prey are not mangling them, O Janardana, regarding them to be still alive. The beautiful garlands of pure gold on the necks of other illustrious heroes, as the latter are being dragged by carnivorous creatures, are scattered about on every side. There, those fierce wolves, numbering in thousands, are dragging the golden chains round the necks of many illustrious heroes stilled by death. Many, whom bards well-trained to their work formerly used, with their hymns and eulogies of grave import, to delight every morning, are now surrounded by fair ladies stricken with grief and weeping and crying around them in woe, O tiger of Vrishni's race! The faces of those beautiful ladies, O Keshava, though pale, look resplendent still, like an assemblage of red lotuses! Those Kuru ladies have ceased to weep, with their respective followers and companions. They are all filled with anxiety. Overwhelmed with sorrow, they are running hither and thither. The faces of those fair ones have, with weeping and anger, become resplendent as the morning sun or gold or burnished copper. Hearing each other's lamentations of incomplete sense, those ladies, in consequence of the loud wails of woe bursting from every side, are unable to catch each other's meaning. Some amongst them, drawing long sighs and indulging in repeated lamentations, are stupefied by grief and are abandoning their life-breaths. Many of them, beholding the bodies (of their sons, husbands, or sires), are weeping and setting up loud wails. Others are striking their heads with their own soft hands. The earth, strewn with severed heads and hands and other limbs mingled together and gathered in large heaps, looks resplendent with these signs of havoc! Beholding many headless trunks of great beauty, and many heads without trunks, those fair ones have been lying senseless on the ground for a long while. Uniting particular heads with particular trunks, those ladies, senseless with grief, are again discovering their mistakes and saying, "This is not this ones," and are weeping more bitterly! Others, uniting arms and thighs and feet, cut off with shafts, are giving way to grief and losing their senses repeatedly (at the sight of the restored forms). Some amongst the Bharata ladies, beholding the bodies of their lords,—bodies that have been mangled by animals and birds and severed of their heads,—are not succeeding in recognising them. Others, beholding their brothers, sires, sons, and husbands slain by foes, are, O destroyer of Madhu, striking their heads with their own hands. Miry with flesh and blood, the Earth has become impassable with arms still holding swords in their grasp, and with heads adorned with earrings. Beholding the field strewn with their brothers and sires, and sons, those faultless ladies, who had never before suffered the least distress, are now plunged into unutterable woe. Behold, O Janardana, those numerous bevies of Dhritarashtra's daughters-in-law, resembling successive multitudes of handsome fillies adorned with excellent manes! What, O Keshava, can be a sadder spectacle for me to behold than that presented by those ladies of fair forms who have assumed such an aspect? Without doubt, I must have perpetrated great sins in my former lives, since I am beholding, O Keshava, my sons and grandsons and brothers all slain by foes.' While indulging in such lamentations in grief, Gandhari's eyes fell upon her son (Duryodhana)."
17
Vaishampayana said, "Beholding Duryodhana, Gandhari, deprived of her senses by grief, suddenly fell down on the earth like an uprooted plantain tree. Having regained her senses soon, she began to weep, repeatedly uttering loud wails at the sight of her son lying on the bare ground, covered with blood. Embracing her son, Gandhari indulged in piteous lamentations for him. Stricken with grief, and with senses exceedingly agitated, the Kuru queen exclaimed, 'Alas, O son! Alas, O son!' Burning with sorrow, the queen drenched with her tears the body of her son, possessed of massive and broad shoulders, and adorned with garlands and collar. Addressing Hrishikesha who stood near, she said, 'On the eve of this battle, O puissant one, that has exterminated this race, this foremost of kings, O thou of Vrishnis race, said unto me, "In this internecine battle, O mother, wish me victory!" When he had said these words, I myself, knowing that a great calamity had come upon us, told him even this, tiger among men, "Thither is victory where righteousness is. And since, son, thy heart is set on battle, thou wilt, without doubt, obtain those regions that are attainable by (the use of) weapons (and sport there) like a celestial." Even these were the words that I then said unto him. I did not then grieve for my son. I grieve, however, for the helpless Dhritarashtra bereaved of friends and kinsmen. Behold, O Madhava, my son, that foremost of warriors, wrathful, skilled in weapons, and irresistible in battle, sleeping on the bed of heroes. Behold the reverses brought about by Time. This scorcher of foes that used of old to walk at the head of all crowned persons now sleepeth on the dust. Without doubt, the heroic Duryodhana, when he sleeps on that bed which is the hero's hath obtained the most unattainable end. Inauspicious jackals are now delighting that prince asleep on the hero's bed, who was formerly delighted by the fairest of ladies sitting round him. He who was formerly encircled by kings vying with one another to give him pleasure, alas, he, slain and lying on the ground, is now encircled by vultures! He who was formerly fanned with beautiful fans by fair ladies is now fanned by (carnivorous) birds with flaps of their wings! Possessed of great strength and true prowess, this mighty-armed prince, slain by Bhimasena in battle, sleeps like an elephant slain by a lion! Behold Duryodhana, O Krishna, lying on the bare ground, covered with blood, slain by Bhimasena with his mace. That mighty-armed one who had in battle assembled together eleven Akshauhinis of troops, O Keshava, hath, in consequence of his own evil policy, been now slain. Alas, there that great bowman and mighty car-warrior sleeps, slain by Bhimasena, like a tiger slain by a lion! Having disregarded Vidura, as also his own sire, this reckless, foolish, and wicked prince hath succumbed to death, in consequence of his disregard of the old. He who had ruled the earth, without a rival, for thirteen years, alas, that prince, that son of mine, sleepeth to-day on the bare ground, slain by his foes. Not long before, O Krishna, I beheld the Earth, full of elephants and kine and horses, ruled by Duryodhana! Today, O thou of mighty arms, I see her ruled by another, and destitute of elephants and kine and horses! What need have I, O Madhava, of life? Behold, again, this sight that is more painful than the death of my son, the sight of these fair ladies weeping by the side of the slain heroes! Behold, O Krishna, the mother of Lakshmana, that lady of large hips, with her tresses dishevelled, that dear spouse of Duryodhana, resembling a sacrificial altar of gold. Without doubt, this damsel of great intelligence, while her mighty-armed lord was formerly alive, used to sport within the embrace of her lords handsome arms! Why, indeed, does not this heart of mine break into a hundred fragments at the sight of my son and grandson slain in battle? Alas, that faultless lady now smells (the head of) her son covered with blood. Now, again, that lady of fair thighs is gently rubbing Duryodhana's body with her fair hand. At one time she is sorrowing for her lord and at another for her son. At one time she looketh on her lord, at another on her son. Behold, O Madhava, striking her head with her hands, she falls upon the breast of her heroic spouse, the king of the Kurus. Possessed of complexion like that of the filaments of the lotus, she still looketh beautiful like a lotus. The unfortunate princess now rubbeth the face of her son and now that of her lord. If the scriptures and the shrutis be true, without doubt, this king has obtained those regions (of blessedness) that one may win by the use of weapons!'"
18
"Gandhari said, 'Behold, O Madhava, my century of sons, incapable of fatigue (from exertion in battle), have all been slain by Bhimasena with his mace in battle! That which grieves me more today is that these my daughters-in-law, of tender years, deprived of sons and with dishevelled hair, are wandering on the field today. Alas, they who formerly walked only on the terraces of goodly mansions with feet adorned with many ornaments, are now, in great affliction of heart, obliged to touch with those feet of theirs this hard earth, miry with blood! Reeling in sorrow, they are wandering like inebriated persons, driving away vultures and jackals and crows with difficulty. Behold, that lady of faultless limbs and slender waist, seeing this terrible carnage, falleth down, overwhelmed with grief. Beholding this princess, this mother of Lakshmana, O thou of mighty arms, my heart is torn with grief. These beautiful ladies of fair arms, some seeing their brothers, some their husbands, and some their sons, lying down in death on the bare ground, are themselves falling down, seizing the arms of the slain. Listen, O unvanquished one, to the loud wails of those elderly ladies and those others of middle age at sight of this terrible carnage. Supporting themselves against broken boxes of cars and the bodies of slain elephants and steeds, behold, O thou of great might, those ladies, worn out with fatigue, are resting themselves. Behold, O Krishna, some one amongst them, taking up some kinsman's severed head decked with beautiful nose and earrings, is standing in grief. I think, O sinless one, that both those and myself of little understanding must have committed great sins in our former lives, since, O Janardana, all our relatives and kinsmen have thus been slain by king Yudhishthira the just! Our acts, righteous or unrighteous, cannot go for nothing, O thou of Vrishni's race! Behold, O Madhava, those young ladies of beautiful bosoms and abdomen, well-born, possessed of modesty, having black eye-lashes and tresses of the same colour on their heads, endued with voice sweet and dear like that of swans, are falling down, deprived of their senses in great grief and uttering piteous cries like flights of cranes. Behold, O lotus-eyed hero, their beautiful faces resembling full-blown lotuses, are scorched by the sun. Alas, O Vasudeva, the wives of my proud children possessed of prowess like that of infuriated elephants, are now exposed to the gaze of common people. Behold, O Govinda, the shields decked with hundred moons, the standards of solar effulgence, the golden coats of mail, and the collars and cuirasses made of gold, and the head-gears, of my sons, scattered on the earth, are blazing with splendour like sacrificial fires over which have been poured libations, of clarified butter. There, Duhshasana sleepeth, felled by Bhima, and the blood of all his limbs quaffed by that heroic slayer of foes. Behold that other son of mine, O Madhava, slain by Bhima with his mace, impelled by Draupadi and the recollection of his woes at the time of the match at dice. Addressing the dice-won princess of Pancala in the midst of the assembly, this Duhshasana, desirous of doing what was agreeable to his (elder) brother as also to Karna, O Janardana, had said, "Thou art now the wife of a slave! With Sahadeva and Nakula and Arjuna, O lady, enter our household now!" On that occasion, O Krishna, I said unto king Duryodhana, "O son, cast off (from thy side) the wrathful Shakuni. Know that thy maternal uncle is of very wicked soul and exceedingly fond of quarrel. Casting him off without delay, make peace with the Pandavas, O son! O thou of little intelligence, thinkest thou not of Bhimasena filled with wrath? Thou art piercing him with thy wordy shafts like a person striking an elephant with burning brands." Alas, disregarding my words, he vomitted his wordy poison at them, like a snake vomitting its poison at a bull,—at them who had already been pierced with his wordy darts. There, that Duhshasana sleepeth, stretching his two massive arms, slain by Bhimasena like a mighty elephant by a lion. The very wrathful Bhimasena perpetrated a most horrible act by drinking in battle the blood of his foe!'"
19
"Gandhari said, 'There, O Madhava, my son Vikarna, applauded by the wise, lieth on the bare ground, slain by Bhima and mangled horribly! Deprived of life, O slayer of Madhu, Vikarna lieth in the midst of (slain) elephants like the moon in the autumnal sky surrounded by blue clouds. His broad palm, cased in leathern fence, and scarred by constant wielding of the bow, is pierced with difficulty by vultures desirous of feeding upon it. His helpless young wife, O Madhava, is continually endeavouring, without success, to drive away those vultures desirous of feeding on carrion. The youthful and brave and handsome Vikarna, O bull among men, brought up in luxury and deserving of every kind of weal, now sleepeth amid the dust, O Madhava! Though all his vital parts have been pierced with clothyard shafts and bearded arrows and Nalikas, yet that beauty of person which was his hath not forsaken this best of the Bharatas. There, my son Durmukha, that slayer of large band of foes, sleepeth, with face towards the enemy, slain by the heroic Bhimasena in observance of his vow. His face, O Krishna, half-eaten away by beasts of prey, looketh more handsome, O child, even like the moon on the seventh day of the lighted fortnight. Behold, O Krishna, the face of that heroic son of mine, which is even such. How could that son of mine be slain by foes and thus made to eat the dust? O amiable one, how could that Durmukha, before whom no foe could stand, be slain by foes, O subjugator of celestial regions! Behold, O slayer of Madhu, that other son of Dhritarashtra, Citrasena, slain and lying on the ground, that hero who was the model of all bowmen? Those young ladies, afflicted with grief and uttering piteous cries, are now sitting, with beasts of prey, around his fair form adorned with wreaths and garlands. These loud wails of woe, uttered by women, and these cries and roars of beasts of prey, seem exceedingly wonderful to me, O Krishna! Youthful and handsome, and always waited upon and served by the most beautiful ladies, my son Vivingsati, O Madhava, sleepeth there, stained with dust. His armour hath been pierced with arrows. Slain in the midst of the carnage, alas, the heroic Vivingsati is now surrounded and waited upon by vultures! Having in battle penetrated the ranks of the Pandava army, that hero now lieth on the bed of a hero,—on the bed, that is, of an exalted Kshatriya! Behold, O Krishna, his very beautiful face, with a smile playing on it, adorned with excellent nose and fair eyebrows, and resembling the resplendent Moon himself! Formerly a large number of the most beautiful ladies used to wait upon him, like thousands of celestial girls upon a sporting gandharva. Who again could endure my son Duhsaha, that slayer of heroic foes, that hero, that ornament of assemblies, that irresistible warrior, that resister of foes? The body of Duhsaha, covered with arrows, looks resplendent like a mountain overgrown with flowering karnikaras. With his garland of gold and his bright armour, Duhsaha, though deprived of life, looks resplendent yet, like a white mountain of fire!'"
20
"Gandhari said, 'He whose might and courage were regarded, O Keshava, as a one and half times superior to those of his sire and thee, he who resembled a fierce and proud lion, he who, without a follower, alone pierced the impenetrable array of my son, he who proved to be the death of many, alas, he now sleepeth there, having himself succumbed to death! I see, O Krishna, the splendour of that son of Arjuna, of that hero of immeasurable energy, Abhimanyu, hath not been dimmed even in death. There, the daughter of Virata, the daughter-in-law of the wielder of Gandiva, that girl of faultless beauty overwhelmed with grief at sight of her heroic husband, is indulging in lamentations! That young wife, the daughter of Virata, approaching her lord, is gently rubbing him, O Krishna, with her hand. Formerly, that highly intelligent and exceedingly beautiful girl, inebriated with honeyed wines, used bashfully to embrace her lord, and kiss the face of Subhadra's son, that face which resembled a full-blown lotus and which was supported on a neck adorned with three lines like those of a conch-shell. Taking of her lord's golden coat of mail, O hero, that damsel is gazing now on the blood-dyed body of her spouse. Beholding her lord, O Krishna, that girl addresses thee and says, "O lotus-eyed one, this hero whose eyes resembled thine, hath been slain. In might and energy, and prowess also, he was thy equal, O sinless one! He resembled thee very much in beauty. Yet he sleeps on the ground, slain by the enemy!" Addressing her own lord, the damsel says again, "Thou wert brought up in every luxury. Thou usedst to sleep on soft skins of the ranku deer. Alas, does not thy body feel pain today by lying thus on the bare ground? Stretching thy massive arms adorned with golden angadas, resembling a couple of elephants trunks and covered with skin hardened by frequent use of the bow, thou sleepest, O lord, in peace, as if exhausted with the toil of too much exercise in the gymnasium. Alas, why dost thou not address me that am weeping so? I do not remember to have ever offended thee. Why dost thou not speak to me then? Formerly, thou usedst to address me even when thou wouldst see me at a distance. O reverend sir, whither wilt thou go, leaving behind thee the much-respected Subhadra, these thy sires that resemble the very celestials, and my own wretched self distracted with woe?" Behold, O Krishna, gathering with her hands the blood-dyed locks of her lord and placing his head on her lap, the beautiful damsel is speaking to him as if he were alive, "How couldst those great car-warriors slay thee in the midst of battle,—thee that art the sister's son of Vasudeva and the son of the wielder of Gandiva? Alas, fie on those warriors of wicked deeds, Kripa and Karna and Jayadratha and Drona and Drona's son, by whom thou wert deprived of life. What was the state of mind of those great car-warriors at that time when they surrounded thee, a warrior of tender years, and slew thee to my grief? How couldst thou, O hero, who had so many protectors, be slain so helplessly in the very sight of the Pandavas and the Pancalas? Beholding thee, O hero, slain in battle by many persons united together, how is that tiger among men, that son of Pandu, thy sire, able to bear the burden of life? Neither the acquisition of a vast kingdom nor the defeat of their foes conduces to the joy of the Parthas bereft of thee, O lotus-eyed one! By the practice of virtue and self-restraint, I shall very soon repair to those regions of bliss which thou hast acquired by the use of weapons. Protect me, O hero, when I repair to those regions. When one's hour does not come, one cannot die, since, wretched that I am, I still draw breath after seeing thee slain in battle. Having repaired to the region of the pitris, whom else, like me, dost thou address now, O tiger among men, in sweet words mingled with smiles? Without doubt, thou wilt agitate the hearts of the Apsaras in heaven, with thy great beauty and thy soft words mingled with smiles! Having obtained the regions reserved for persons of righteous deeds, thou art now united, O son of Subhadra, with the Apsaras! While sporting with them, recollect at times my good acts towards thee. Thy union with me in this world had, it seems, been ordained for only six months, for in the seventh, O hero, thou hast been bereft of life!" O Krishna, the ladies of the royal house of Matsya are dragging away the afflicted Uttara, baffled of all her purposes, while lamenting in this strain. Those ladies, dragging away the afflicted Uttara, themselves still more afflicted than that girl, are weeping and uttering loud wails at sight of the slain Virata. Mangled with the weapons and shafts of Drona, prostrate on the ground, and covered with blood, Virata is encompassed by screaming vultures and howling jackals and crowing ravens. Those black-eyed ladies, approaching the prostrate form of the Matsya king over which carnivorous birds are uttering cries of joy, are endeavouring to turn the body. Weakened by grief and exceedingly afflicted, they are unable to do what they intend. Scorched by the Sun, and worn out with exertion and toil, their faces have become colourless and pale. Behold also, O Madhava, those other children besides Abhimanyu—Uttara, Sudakshina the prince of the Kambhojas, and the handsome Lakshmana—all lying on the field of battle!'"