Chapter 61

“Vaisampayana said, ‘After the high-souled Vasudeva of great prowess hadfinished his narration of the great battle of the Bharatas before hissire, it was plain that that hero had passed over the slaughter ofAbhimanyu. The motive of the high-souled one was that his sire might nothear what was highly unpleasant to him. Indeed, the intelligent Krishnadid not wish that his sire Vasudeva should, on hearing the dreadfulintelligence of the death of his daughter’s son, be afflicted with sorrowand grief. (His sister) Subhadra, noticing that the slaughter of her sonhad not been mentioned, addressed her brother, saying,–Do thou narratethe death of my son, O Krishna–and fell down on the earth (in a swoon).Vasudeva beheld his daughter fallen on the ground. As soon as he sawthis, he also fell down, deprived of his senses by grief. (Regaining hissenses) Vasudeva, afflicted with grief at the death of his daughter’sson, O king, addressed Krishna, saying, ‘O lotus-eyed one, thou art famedon Earth for being truthful in speech. Why, however, O slayer of foes,dost thou not tell me today of the death of my daughter’s son? O puissantone, tell me in detail of the slaughter of thy sister’s son. Possessed ofeyes resembling thine, alas, how was he slain in battle by foes? Since myheart does not from grief break into a hundred pieces, it seems, O thouof the Vrishni’s race, that it does not die with men when its hour doesnot come. Oh, at the time of his fall, what words did he utter;apostrophising his mother? O lotus-eyed one what did that darling ofmine, possessed of restless eyes, say unto me? I hope he has not beenslain by foes while retreating from battle with his back towards them? Ihope, O Govinda, that, his face did not become cheerless while fighting?He was possessed, O Krishna, of mighty energy. From a spirit ofboyishness, that puissant hero, boasting (of his prowess) in my presence,used to speak of his skill (in battle). I hope that boy does not lie onthe field, slain deceitfully by Drona and Karna and Kripa and others? Dothou tell me this. That son of my daughter always used to challengeBhishma and that foremost of all mighty warriors, viz., Karna, inbattle.’ Unto his sire who, from excess of grief, indulged in suchlamentations, Govinda, more afflicted than he answered in these words.’His face did not become cheerless as he fought in the van of battle.Fierce though that battle was, he did not turn his back upon it. Havingslain hundreds and thousands of kings of Earth, he was brought to griefby Drona and Karna and at last succumbed to the son of Dussasana. If, Olord, he had been encountered, one to one, without intermission, he wasincapable of being slain in battle by even the wielder of thethunderbolt. When his sire Arjuna was withdrawn from the main body by theSamsaptakas (who challenged to fight him separately), Abhimanyu wassurrounded by the enraged Kaurava heroes headed by Drona in battle. Then,O sire, after he had slaughtered a very large number of foes in battle,thy daughter’s son at last succumbed to the son of Dussasana. Withoutdoubt, he has gone to Heaven. Kill this grief of thine, O thou of greatintelligence. They that are of cleansed understandings never languishwhen they meet with any calamity. He by whom Drona and Karna and otherswere checked in battle,–heroes that were equal to Indra himself inmight–why would not he ascend to Heaven? O irresistible one, do thoukill this grief of thine. Do not suffer thyself to be swayed by wrath.That conqueror of hostile cities has attained in that sanctified goalwhich depends upon death at the edge of weapons. After the fall of thathero, this my sister Subhadra stricken with grief, indulged in loudlamentations, when she saw Kunti, like a female ospray. When she metDraupadi, she asked her in grief,–O reverend lady, where are all oursons? I desire to behold them. Hearing her lamentations, all the Kauravaladies embraced her and wept sitting around her. Beholding (herdaughter-in-law) Uttara, she said,–‘O blessed girl, where has thyhusband gone? When he comes back, do thou, without losing a moment,apprise me of it. Alas, O daughter of Virata, as soon he heard my voice,he used to come out of his chamber without the loss of a moment. Why doesnot thy husband come out today? Alas, O Abhimanyu, thy maternaluncles–mighty car-warriors–are all hale. They used to bless thee whenthey saw thee come here prepared to go out for battle. Do thou tell methe incidents of battle today as before, O chastiser of foes. Oh. whydost thou not answer me today–me who am weeping so bitterly?’–Hearingthese lamentations of this daughter of the Vrishni race, Pritha, deeplyafflicted with grief, addressed her and slowly said,–‘O Subhadra, thoughprotected by Vasudeva and Satyaki and by his own sire, thy youthful sonhas yet been slain. That slaughter is due to the influence of Time! Odaughter of Yadu’s race, mortal thy son was. Do not grieve. Irresistiblein battle, thy son has, without doubt, attained to the highest goal. Thouart born in a high race of high-souled Kshatriyas. Do not grieve, O thouof restless glances, O girl of eyes like lotus-petals. Do thou cast thyeyes on Uttara who is quick with child. O blessed lady, do not yield tosorrow. This auspicious girl will soon bring forth a son to that hero.Having comforted her in this way, Kunti, conversant with every duty, Operpetuator of Yadu’s race, casting off her grief, O irresistible one,made arrangements for Abhimanyu’s obsequial rites, with the acquiescenceof king Yudhishthira and Bhima, and the twins (viz., Nakula and Sahadeva)who in prowess resembled Yama himself. She also made many presents untothe Brahmanas, and bestowed upon them many kine, O perpetuator of Yadu’srace, Then the Vrishni dame (Kunti), comforted a little, addressed thedaughter of Virata, saying,–O faultless daughter of Virata, thoushouldst not indulge in grief. For the sake of thy husband, O thou ofrotund hips, protect the child in thy womb.–Having said these words, Othou of great splendour, Kunti ceased. With her permission I have broughtSubhadra here. It was even thus, O giver of honours, that thy daughter’sson met with his death. Cast off thy burning grief, O irresistible one.Indeed, do not set thy heart on sorrow.’