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BHAGAVAD GITA
CHAPTER ONE
dhritarashtra
In the holy field, the field
of the Kurus, assembled for the fight, what did my
children, O Sunjoy, what did Pandu’s
sons?
sun joy
Then the king, even Duryodhan, when he beheld the Pandav
army marshalled in battle array, approached the
master and spoke this word.
“Behold, O Master, this mighty host of the sons of Pandou by Drupad’s son, thy wise
disciple, marshalled in battle array. There are their
heroes and great bowmen, like unto Bhema and Urjoona in war, Yuyudhana and Virata and Drupad, the mighty
warrior, Dhristaketou and Chekitana
and Kashi’s heroic king; and Pourujit,
Coontybhoj and Shalvya,
lion of men, and Yudhamanyu of mighty deeds and hero Uttamaujas and Subhadra’s son and
the sons of Draupady, great warriors all. And they
who are our chief and first, them also mark, O best of the twice-born, —
leaders of my army, for the reckoning let me speak their names, thou and Bhishma and Curna, Cripa, victorious in battle, Aswatthama
and Vicurna and Somadutta’s
son, and many other courageous hearts that for me have cast their lives behind
them, smiters with various weapons and many arms, and
all are expert in war. Weak to its task is this our strength but Bhishma guards the host; sufficient to its task is
yonder strength of the foe and Bhema is their guard.
Do ye then, each stationed to his work, stand up in all the gates of the war
and Bhishma, ever Bhishma
do ye guard, yea all guard him alone.”
Then giving joy birth in Duryodhan’s
heart the Grandsire, elder of the Kurus, thundered
loud his war-cry’s lion roar, and blew his conchshell’s
blare, the man of might. Then conchshell and bugle,
trumpet and horn and drum, all suddenly were smitten and blown, and a huge rushing
sound arose. Then in their mighty car erect, their car with snow-white steeds, Madhava and Pandava blew their
divine shells, Hrishikesh on Panchajanya,
on Devdatta, god-given, Dhanunjoy
blew, and on his great shell from far Bengal blew Bhema,
wolf-belly, the man of dreadful deeds, and on Anantavijay,
boundless conquest, Yudhisthira the king, even Coonty’s son, and Nacool and Sahadev on Sughosha, far-sounding
and Manipushpaca, jewel- flower.
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And Kashi’s
king, that excellent bowman, and Shikandi, that great
fighter, and Dhristadyoumna and Viral and Satyaqy unconquered, and Drupad
and the children of Draupady, and Subhadra’s
great-armed son — all these from all sides blew each his separate shell, O Lord
of earth, that the thunder of them tore the hearts of Dhritarashtra’s
sons and earth and heaven re-echoed with the clamour
and the roar. Now as the ape-bannered, the Pandava,
saw the Dhritarashtrians at their war-like posts, so
heaved he up his bow and even as the shafts began to fall spake
to Hrishikesha this word, O King.
“Right in the midst between either host set thou my car, O
unfallen. Let me scan these who stand arrayed and
greedy for battle; let me know who must wage war with me in this great holiday
of fight. Fain would I see who are these that are here for combat to do in
battle the will of Dhritarashtra’s witless son.”
Thus, O Bharata, to Hrishikesha Gudakesha said, who
set in, the midst between either army the noble car, in front of Bhishma and Drona and all those
kings of earth.
“Lo, O Partha,” he said, “all
these Kurus met in one field!” There Partha saw fathers and grandsires stand, and teachers and
uncles and brothers and sons and grandsons and dear comrades, and fathers of
wives and heart’s friends, all in either battle opposed. And when the son of Coonty beheld all these dear friends and kindred facing
each other in war, his heart was besieged with utter pity and failed him, and
he said,
“O Krishna, I behold these kinsmen and friends arrayed in
hostile arms and my limbs sink beneath me and my face grows dryland
there are shudderings in my body, and my hair stands
on end, Gandeva falls from my hand and my very skin
is on fire. Yea, I cannot stand and my brain; whirls, and evil omens, O Keshava,
meet mine eyes. I can see no blessing for me, having slain my kin in fight. I
desire not victory, O Krishna, no nor kingship nor delights. What shall we do
with kingship, O Govinda, what with enjoyments, what
with life ? They for whose sake we desire kin ship and enjoyments and delight,
lo they all stand in battle against us casting behind them their riches and
lives, our teachers and our fathers am our sons, our grandsires and uncles and
the fathers of our wives, and on grandsons and our wives’ brothers and the kin
of our beloved, These though they slay me, O Madhushudan,
I would not slay, no not for the empire of heaven and space and hell, much less
for this poor earth of ours. Slaying
the sons of Dhritarashtra what joy would be left to
us, O Janardana?
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Sin, sin alone would find
lodging in us, if we slew these, though our adversaries and foes. Therefore we
do not right to slay the children of Dhritarashtra
and their friends, for how can we be happy, O Madhava,
if we slay our kin? Even though these see not, for their hearts are swept away
by greed, error done in the ruin of our house and grievous sin in treachery to
natural friends, how shall we not understand and turn back from this sin, we
who have eyes, O Janardana, for error done in the
ruin of our house? When the family dwindle, the eternal ideals of the race are
lost, and when ideals are lost, unrighteousness besets the whole race; in the
prevalence of unrighteousness, O Krishna, the women of the race go astray, and
when women grow corrupt, bastard confusion is born again; but confusion brings
the slayers of the race and the race itself to very hell; for the long line of
fathers perish and the food ceaseth and the water is
given no more. By these sins who bring their race to perdition, fathers they of
bastard confusion, the eternal ideals of the nation and the hearth are overthrown,
and for men who have lost the ancient righteousness of the race, in hell an
eternal habitation is set apart, it is told. Alas, a dreadful sin have we set
ourselves to do, that we have made ready. From greed of lordship and pleasure,
to slay our own kin. Yea, even if the sons of Dhritarashtra
slay me with their armed hands, me unarmed and unresisting, it were better and
more fortunate for me than this.”
Thus spake Urjoona
and in the very battle’s heart sat down upon his chariot seat, and let fall his
bow when the arrow was on the string, for his soul was perplexed with grief.
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