The Last Report

Sanjaya said, "When morning was near, Ashvatthama desired to leave the camp. He was bathed in human blood, and the hilt of his sword so firmly adhered in his grasp that his hand and the sword had become one thing, O king, and he could not have set it down if he had wanted to.

Having walked in that path that is never trod by good warriors, he looked, after that slaughter, like the blazing fire at the end of the yuga when it has consumed all creatures into ashes. And having perpetrated that feat agreeably to his vow, and having trodden that untrodden way, Drona's son forgot his grief for the slaughter of his sire. That is the plain fact of it, O king, and I set it down without ornament: the grief went out of him. It had been in him without stopping since the day his father's head was taken, and it had kept him from sleeping under the banyan, and now it was gone, and what stood in its place was a man in a good humour with a sword grown into his hand.

He came out through the gate where he had gone in. Having issued from the camp, the valiant son of Drona met his two companions and, filled with joy, told them of his feat, gladdening them by the intelligence. Those two, in return, devoted as they were to his good, gave him the agreeable intelligence of how they also had slaughtered thousands of Pancalas and Srinjayas at the gates, letting no man out with his life who had run for it in the dark.

The three great car-warriors, meeting together, exclaimed, 'Good luck!' His two companions congratulated Ashvatthama, and he was embraced by them, and there in the smoke, with the fires they had set still burning in three places behind them, he said what men say when the thing is finished and there is nobody left to say it to.

'All the Pancalas have been slain, as also all the sons of Draupadi. All the Somakas also, as well as all that remained of the Matsyas, have been slaughtered by me. Crowned with success, let us without delay go there where the king is. If the king be still alive, we will give him this joyful intelligence.'

So they mounted their cars and went back the way the war had come, across the field, to look for a man with broken thighs."

"Having slain all the Pancalas and the sons of Draupadi, the three Kuru heroes together came to that spot where Duryodhana lay, struck down by the foe. Arrived there, they beheld that life had not been wholly extinct in the king.

He was lying with broken thighs. Almost senseless, his life was about to ebb away. He was vomiting blood at intervals, with downcast eyes. And he was not alone. He was surrounded by a large number of carnivorous animals of terrible forms, and by wolves and by hyenas, that waited at no great distance for feeding upon his body.

Understand what your son had been doing, O monarch, through the hours in which we were busy in the camp. He was keeping them off. With great difficulty the king was keeping off those beasts of prey that stood in expectation of feasting upon him. A man who cannot stand, who cannot crawl, whose thighs are shattered, lying on his back on the open field and driving away wolves with his hands and his voice, hour after hour, in the dark, so that his body should not be eaten before he was done with it. He was writhing on the earth in great agony.

The field itself, O monarch, was by then such a place as I have no words that are equal to. It teemed with diverse kinds of creatures. Your sons and your well-wishers and your friends lay upon it, covered with blood, their bodies mangled, their heads separated from their trunks, and among them moved the things that come after a battle. Through all of that the three of them rode, looking for one particular man, and they had to go slowly, and they had to look at everything on the way.

That is how they found him. Beholding him thus lying on the earth, bathed in his own blood, the three heroes who were the sole survivors of his army, Ashvatthama and Kripa and Kritavarma, became afflicted with grief."

"Jumping down from their cars, they surrounded your son.

They sat around him on the ground, the three of them, covered with blood and breathing hot sighs. Encompassed by those three mighty car-warriors, the Kuru king looked like a sacrificial altar surrounded by three fires.

It is a strange comparison to have come to me, O king, and I have not been able to get away from it since. A few hours earlier, riding out to the camp in the dark, they had shone like three blazing fires in a sacrifice, fed with libations of clarified butter. Now they were three fires burning down around an altar with a dying man on it, and there was nothing left to offer and nobody to receive it.

Beholding the king lying in that highly undeserving plight, the three heroes wept in unendurable sorrow. Wiping the blood from off his face with their hands, they uttered these piteous lamentations in the hearing of the king lying on the field of battle.

They had come with good news. It is worth saying plainly, because the whole shape of this hour depends on it: they had ridden all that way in the dark with a piece of news they believed would make him happy, and when they arrived and saw the state of him, none of them could get it out. They wept first. They cleaned his face first. The message waited.

He could hear them. That is the thing to hold on to. Almost senseless he was, and his eyes were downcast, and he did not answer for a long while; but he heard every word of what was said over him, and when at last he spoke, it was clear that he had been listening from the beginning."

Kripa said, "There is nothing too difficult for destiny to bring about, since even this king Duryodhana, who was the lord of eleven akshauhinis of troops, sleeps on the bare ground, struck down by the foes and covered with blood.

Behold. Fond he was of the mace, and that mace decked with pure gold still lies by the side of the king whose splendour still resembles that of pure gold. In no battle did that mace abandon this hero. Even now, when he is about to ascend to heaven, that weapon leaves not this illustrious warrior. Behold that weapon, adorned with pure gold, still lying by the side of this hero, like a loving wife by the side of her lord stretched on his bed in his chamber of sleep.

Behold the reverses brought about by Time. This scorcher of foes, that used to walk at the head of all crowned kings, now eats the dust. He who had formerly struck down many foes and caused them to lie on the bare ground, alas, that king of the Kurus lies today on the bare ground, struck down by foes. He to whom hundreds of kings used to bow down in fear lies today on the field of battle, surrounded by beasts of prey.

The brahmanas formerly used to wait upon this lord for wealth. Alas, beasts of prey wait upon him today for feeding upon his body.

Eleven akshauhinis, O son of Drona. Count it once more with me, since we three are what is left to count it. Eleven armies came to this field under that mace. Kings of the east and of the south and of the mountains came because he asked them, and they lie out there in the dark in whatever posture they fell, and here at the middle of all of it is the man they came for, and he cannot lift his head, and the only thing still lying faithfully at his side is a piece of gilded iron."

Sanjaya continued, "Beholding that chief of Kuru's race lying on the ground, Ashvatthama uttered these piteous lamentations."

Ashvatthama said, "O tiger among kings, all people indicated thee as the foremost of all bowmen. People also said that in encounters with the mace thou, a disciple of Sankarshana, wert like the Lord of treasures himself. How then, O sinless one, could Bhima notice any lapse in thee? Thou wert ever mighty and possessed of skill, and he is a wicked-souled wight.

Without doubt, O monarch, Time in this world is mightier than everything else, for we behold even thee struck down by Bhimasena in battle. Alas, how could the wretched and mean Vrikodara unrighteously strike thee down, thee that wert conversant with every rule of righteousness? Without doubt, Time is irresistible. Alas, having summoned thee to a fair fight, Bhimasena, putting forth his might, fractured thy thighs.

And fie on that wretched Yudhishthira, who tolerated the head of one unrighteously struck down in battle to be touched with a foot. In all battles warriors will certainly reprove Vrikodara as long as the world will last. Without doubt, thou hast been struck down unrighteously.

The valiant Rama of Yadu's race always used to say that there is no one equal to Duryodhana in encounters with the mace. He of the Vrishni race used to boast of thee, O lord, in every assembly, saying, 'Duryodhana of Kuru's race is a worthy disciple of mine.'

Thou hast obtained that end which great rishis have declared to be the high reward of a kshatriya slain in battle with his face toward the foe."

Ashvatthama said, "I do not, O bull among men, grieve for thee, O Duryodhana. I grieve only for thy mother Gandhari and thy sire, childless as they now are. Afflicted with sorrow, they will have to wander over the earth, begging their food.

Fie on Krishna of the Vrishni race, and on Arjuna of wicked understanding. They regard themselves conversant with the duties of morality, and yet both of them stood indifferent while thou wert being slain. How will the other Pandavas, shameless though they are, O king, speak of the manner in which they have accomplished thy death?

Thou art highly fortunate, O son of Gandhari, since thou hast been slain on the field of battle while advancing fairly against the foe. Alas, what will be the plight of Gandhari, who is now childless, and who has lost all her kinsmen and relatives? What also will be the plight of the blind king? A hundred sons, O bull among men, and a daughter, and their grandchildren after them, and by this morning there is not one of them left to bring an old woman water."

Sanjaya said, "He said that, O monarch, kneeling in the dust with your son's blood on his hands, and he said it to a man who could not answer him. And I have carried it to you exactly as it was spoken, because you asked me for all of it, and because there is no part of this that I am able to soften."

Ashvatthama said, "Fie on Kritavarma, on myself, as also on the mighty car-warrior Kripa, since we have not yet gone to heaven with thy royal self before us. Fie on us, lowest of mortals, since we do not follow thee that wert the granter of all wishes, the protector of all men, and the benefactor of all thy subjects.

Through thy power the abodes of Kripa, of myself, and of my sire, along with those of our dependants, O tiger among men, are full of wealth. Through thy grace, ourselves with our friends and relatives have performed many foremost of sacrifices with a profusion of presents to brahmanas.

Where shall such sinful persons as ourselves now go, since thou hast gone to heaven, taking with thee all the kings of the earth? Since we three, O king, do not follow thee that art about to obtain the highest end of life, it is for this that we are indulging in such lamentations. Deprived of thy companionship, reft of wealth, our memories painfully dwelling upon thy prosperity, alas, what will be our lot, since we do not go with thee? Without doubt, O chief of Kuru's race, we shall have to wander in grief upon the earth. Deprived of thee, O king, where can we have peace, and where can we have happiness?"

Sanjaya said, "And that, O monarch, was the true lamentation of the three of them, under the piety of the rest. They had wealth through him and houses through him and sacrifices performed through him. They had spent eighteen days destroying the world on his account and had just spent a night finishing the work, and now they knelt in the dust and asked the dying man what was to become of their households."

Ashvatthama said, "Going from this world, O monarch, and meeting with those mighty car-warriors that have preceded thee, show thy regards to them, at my request, one after another, according to the order of their rank and years.

Having offered worship to thy preceptor, that foremost of all wielders of bows, tell him, O king, that Dhrishtadyumna has been slain by me.

Embrace king Bahlika, that mighty car-warrior, as also the ruler of the Sindhus, and Somadatta, and Bhurishrava, and the other foremost of kings that have preceded thee to heaven. At my request, embrace all of them, and enquire after their welfare."

Sanjaya continued, "Consider what he was asking, O king. He was giving a dying man errands to run, in the order of rank and years, as though the road out of this world were a road to a court where the proper forms would still be observed and the proper greetings given. And in the middle of that list of courtesies he set down the only sentence he had ridden across the whole field to say: tell my father that I killed the man who killed him.

He could not say it to Drona. There was no way left of saying it to Drona. So he said it to a man who was dying, and asked him to carry it."

Sanjaya continued, "Having said these words unto the king deprived of his senses and lying with broken thighs, Ashvatthama once more cast his eyes on him and uttered these words."

Ashvatthama said, "If, O Duryodhana, thou hast any life in thee still, listen to these words that are so pleasant to hear.

On the side of the Pandavas, only seven are alive, and among the Dhartarashtras, only we three. The seven on their side are the five brothers and Vasudeva and Satyaki. On our side, we three are myself and Kripa and Kritavarma.

All the sons of Draupadi have been slain, as also all the children of Dhrishtadyumna. All the Pancalas too have been slain, as also the remnant of the Matsyas, O Bharata. Behold the vengeance taken for what they had done. The Pandavas are now childless. While buried in sleep, the men and the animals in their camp have all been slain.

Penetrating into their camp in the night, O king, I have slain Dhrishtadyumna, that wight of sinful deeds, as one kills an animal."

Sanjaya said, "He gave the count first, O monarch. Seven and three. He had done the arithmetic on the way over and he led with it, the way a commander reports to a king who is still a king. And then, at the end, he set down the one item that was his own, and he did not dress it up. He did not say that he had killed Drupada's son in battle. He said that he had killed him the way a man kills an animal, and he said it as the best thing he had to offer, and he was right about how it would be received."

"Duryodhana then, having heard those words that were so agreeable to his heart, regained his senses," Sanjaya said, "and said these words in reply."

Duryodhana said, "That which neither Ganga's son, nor Karna, nor thy sire could achieve, has at last been achieved by thee today, accompanied by Kripa and Bhoja. Thou hast slain that low wretch who was commander of the Pandava forces, as also Shikhandi. In consequence of this I regard myself equal to Maghavat himself. Good be to you all. Let prosperity be yours. All of us will again meet together in heaven."

Sanjaya continued, "Having said these words, the high-souled king of the Kurus became silent. Casting off his griefs for all his slain kinsmen, he then gave up his life-breath. His soul ascended to sacred heaven, while his body only remained on earth.

Even thus, O king, thy son Duryodhana breathed his last. Having provoked the battle first, he was slain by his foes at last.

The three heroes repeatedly embraced the king and gazed steadfastly on him. They then ascended their cars. Having heard these piteous lamentations of Drona's son, I came away at early dawn toward the city. Even thus have the armies of the Kurus and the Pandavas been destroyed. Great and terrible has been that carnage, O king, caused by thy evil policy.

And after thy son had ascended to heaven, I became afflicted with grief, and the spiritual sight which the rishi gave has been lost by me. I can see nothing now, O king. I am only a man in a room, telling you what I saw while I could still see."

Vaishampayana continued, "The king, hearing of his son's death, breathed long and hot sighs, and became plunged in great anxiety."