Stri Parva

Created by Jijith Nadumuri at 31 Mar 2010 14:23 and updated at 31 Mar 2010 14:23

MAHABHARATA, BOOK 11: STRI PARVA

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Section 22

Gandhari said, Slain by Bhimasena, behold, the lord of Avanti lies there! Vultures and jackals and crows are feeding upon that hero! Though possessed of many friends, he lies now perfectly friendless! Behold, O slayer of Madhu, having made a great slaughter of foes, that warrior is now lying on the bed of a hero, covered with blood. Jackals, and kankas, and other carnivorous creatures of diverse kinds, are dragging him now.

Behold the reverses brought about by Time. His wives, assembled together, and crying in grief, are sitting around that hero who in life was a terrible slayer of foes but who now lies on the bed of a hero. Behold, Pratipas son Bahlika, that mighty bowman possessed of great energy, slain with a broad-headed shaft, is now lying on the ground like a sleeping tiger. Though deprived of life, the colour of his face is still exceedingly bright, like that of the moon at full, risen on the fifteenth day of the lighted fortnight! Burning with grief on account of the death of his son, and desirous of accomplishing his vow, Indras son Arjuna hath slain there that son of Vriddhakshatra! Behold that Jayadratha, who was protected by the illustrious Drona, slain by Partha bent on accomplishing his vow, after penetrating through eleven Akshauhinis of troops. Inauspicious vultures, O Janardana, are feeding upon Jayadratha, the lord of the Sindhu-Sauviras, full of pride and energy! Though sought to be protected by his devoted wives, see, O Acyuta, carnivorous creatures are dragging his body away to a jungle in the vicinity. The Kamboja and Yavana wives of that mighty-armed lord of the Sindhus and the Sauviras are waiting upon him for protecting him from the wild beasts. At that time, O Janardana, when Jayadratha, assisted by the Kekayas, endeavoured to ravish Draupadi, he deserved to be slain by the Pandavas!

From regard, however, for Duhshala, they set him free on that occasion. Why, O Krishna, did they not show some regard for that Duhshala once more? That daughter of mine, of tender years, is now crying in grief. She is striking her body with her own hands and censuring the Pandavas. What, O Krishna, can be a greater grief to me than that my daughter of tender years should be a widow and all my daughters-in-law should become lordless. Alas, alas, behold, my daughter Duhshala, having cast off her grief and fears, is running hither and thither in search of the head of her husband. He who had checked all the Pandavas desirous of rescuing their son, after causing the slaughter of a vast force, at last himself succumbed to death. Alas, those wives of his, with faces as beautiful as the moon, are crying, sitting around that irresistible hero who resembled an infuriated elephant

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