Chapter 2

Vaishampayana said, “Listen, O Janamejaya, to the nectar-like words thatVidura said unto the son of Vicitravirya and by which he gladdened thatbull among men!

“Vidura said, Rise, O king! Why art thou stretched on the earth? Bearthyself up with thy own self. O king, even this is the final end of allliving creatures. Everything massed together ends in destruction;everything that gets high is sure to fall down. Union is certain to endin separation; life is sure to end in death. The destroyer, O Bharata,drags both the hero and the coward. Why then, O bull amongst Kshatriyas,should not Kshatriyas engage in battle? He that does not fight is seen toescape with life. When, however, ones time comes, O king, one cannotescape. As regards living creatures, they are non-existent at first. Theyexist in the period that intervenes. In the end they once more becomenon-existent. What matter of grief then is there in this? The man thatindulges in grief succeeds not in meeting with the dead. By indulging ingrief, one does not himself die. When the course of the world is such,why dost thou indulge in sorrow? Death drags all creatures, even thegods. There is none dear or hateful to death, O best of the Kurus! As thewind tears off the tops of all blades of grass, even so, O bull ofBharatas race, death overmasters all creatures. All creatures are likemembers of a caravan bound for the same destination. (When death willencounter all) it matters very little whom he meets with first. Itbehoveth thee not, O king, to grieve for those that have been slain inbattle. If the scriptures are any authority, all of them must haveobtained the highest end. All of them were versed in the Vedas; all ofthem had observed vows. Facing the foe all of them have met with death.What matter of sorrow is there in this? Invisible they had been (beforebirth). Having come from that unknown region, they have once more becomeinvisible. They are not thine, nor art thou theirs. What grief then isthere in such disappearance? If slain, one wins heaven. By slaying, fameis won. Both these, with respect to us, are productive of great merit.Battle, therefore, is not bootless. No doubt, Indra will contrive forthem regions capable of granting every wish. These, O bull among men,become the guests of Indra. Men cannot, by sacrifices with profuse gifts,by ascetic penances and by learning, go so speedily to heaven as heroesslain in battle. On the bodies of hostile heroes constituting thesacrificial fire, they poured their arrowy libations. Possessed of greatenergy, they had in return to endure the arrowy libations (poured uponthem by their enemies). I tell thee, O king, that for a Kshatriya in thisworld there is not a better road to heaven than battle! They were allhigh-souled Kshatriyas; possessed of bravery, they were ornaments ofassemblies. They have attained to a high state of blessedness. They arenot persons for whom we should grieve. Comforting thyself by thy own selfcease to grieve, O bull among men! It behoveth thee not to suffer thyselfto be overwhelmed with sorrow and to abandon all actions. There arethousands of mothers and fathers and sons and wives in this world. Whoseare they, and whose are we? From day to day thousands of causes spring upfor sorrow and thousands of causes for fear. These, however, affect theignorant but are nothing to him that is wise. There is none dear orhateful to Time, O best of the Kurus! Time is indifferent to none. Allare equally dragged by Time. Time causeth all creatures to grow, and itis Time that destroyeth everything. When all else is asleep, Time isawake. Time is irresistible. Youth, beauty, life, possessions, health,and the companionship of friends, all are unstable. He that is wise willnever covet any of these. It behoveth thee not to grieve for what isuniversal. A person may, by indulging in grief, himself perish, but griefitself, by being indulged in, never becomes light. Ifthou feelest thygrief to be heavy, it should be counteracted by not indulging in it. Eventhis is the medicine for grief, viz., that one should not indulge in it.By dwelling on it, one cannot lessen it. On the other hand, it grows withindulgence. Upon the advent of evil or upon the bereavement of somethingthat is dear, only they that are of little intelligence suffer theirminds to be afflicted with grief. This is neither Profit, nor Religion,nor Happiness, on which thy heart is dwelling. The indulgence of grief isthe certain means of ones losing ones objects. Through it, one falls awayfrom the three great ends of life (religion, profit, and pleasure). Theythat are destitute of contentment, are stupefied on the accession ofvicissitudes dependent upon the possession of wealth. They, however, thatare wise, are on the other hand, unaffected by such vicissitudes. Oneshould kill mental grief by wisdom, just as physical grief should bekilled by medicine. Wisdom hath this power. They, however, that arefoolish, can never obtain tranquillity of soul. The acts of a former lifeclosely follow a man, insomuch that they lie by him when he lies down,stay by him when he stays, and run with him when he runs. In thoseconditions of life in which one acts well or ill, one enjoys or suffersthe fruit thereof in similar conditions. In those forms (of physicalorganisation) in which one performs particular acts, one enjoys orsuffers the fruits thereof in similar forms. Ones own self is ones ownfriend, as, indeed, ones own self is ones own enemy. Ones own self is thewitness of ones acts, good and evil. From good acts springs a state ofhappiness, from sinful deeds springs woe. One always obtains the fruit ofones acts. One never enjoys or suffers weal or woe that is not the fruitof ones own acts. Intelligent persons like thee, O king, never sink insinful enormities that are disapproved by knowledge and that strike atthe very root (of virtue and happiness).”