Chapter 17

Vaishampayana said, “Beholding Duryodhana, Gandhari, deprived of hersenses by grief, suddenly fell down on the earth like an uprootedplantain tree. Having regained her senses soon, she began to weep,repeatedly uttering loud wails at the sight of her son lying on the bareground, covered with blood. Embracing her son, Gandhari indulged inpiteous lamentations for him. Stricken with grief, and with sensesexceedingly agitated, the Kuru queen exclaimed, Alas, O son! Alas, O son!Burning with sorrow, the queen drenched with her tears the body of herson, possessed of massive and broad shoulders, and adorned with garlandsand collar. Addressing Hrishikesha who stood near, she said, On the eveof this battle, O puissant one, that has exterminated this race, thisforemost of kings, O thou of Vrishnis race, said unto me, “In thisinternecine battle, O mother, wish me victory!” When he had said thesewords, I myself, knowing that a great calamity had come upon us, told himeven 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 (andsport there) like a celestial.” Even these were the words that I thensaid unto him. I did not then grieve for my son. I grieve, however, forthe helpless Dhritarashtra bereaved of friends and kinsmen. Behold, OMadhava, my son, that foremost of warriors, wrathful, skilled in weapons,and irresistible in battle, sleeping on the bed of heroes. Behold thereverses brought about by Time. This scorcher of foes that used of old towalk at the head of all crowned persons now sleepeth on the dust. Withoutdoubt, the heroic Duryodhana, when he sleeps on that bed which is theheros hath obtained the most unattainable end. Inauspicious jackals arenow delighting that prince asleep on the heros bed, who was formerlydelighted by the fairest of ladies sitting round him. He who was formerlyencircled 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 wasformerly fanned with beautiful fans by fair ladies is now fanned by(carnivorous) birds with flaps of their wings! Possessed of greatstrength and true prowess, this mighty-armed prince, slain by Bhimasenain battle, sleeps like an elephant slain by a lion! Behold Duryodhana, OKrishna, lying on the bare ground, covered with blood, slain by Bhimasenawith his mace. That mighty-armed one who had in battle assembled togethereleven akshauhinis of troops, O Keshava, hath, in consequence of his ownevil policy, been now slain. Alas, there that great bowman and mightycar-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 hisdisregard of the old. He who had ruled the earth, without a rival, forthirteen years, alas, that prince, that son of mine, sleepeth to-day onthe bare ground, slain by his foes. Not long before, O Krishna, I beheldthe Earth, full of elephants and kine and horses, ruled by Duryodhana!Today, O thou of mighty arms, I see her ruled by another, and destituteof 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, withher tresses dishevelled, that dear spouse of Duryodhana, resembling asacrificial altar of gold. Without doubt, this damsel of greatintelligence, while her mighty-armed lord was formerly alive, used tosport within the embrace of her lords handsome arms! Why, indeed, doesnot this heart of mine break into a hundred fragments at the sight of myson and grandson slain in battle? Alas, that faultless lady now smells(the head of) her son covered with blood. Now, again, that lady of fairthighs is gently rubbing Duryodhanas body with her fair hand. At one timeshe is sorrowing for her lord and at another for her son. At one time shelooketh on her lord, at another on her son. Behold, O Madhava, strikingher 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 filamentsof the lotus, she still looketh beautiful like a lotus. The unfortunateprincess now rubbeth the face of her son and now that of her lord. If thescriptures and the shrutis be true, without doubt, this king has obtainedthose regions (of blessedness) that one may win by the use of weapons!”