Sanjaya said to Dhritarashtra: “O King, it is no exaggeration, nor the utterance of empty praise, to declare that there was scarcely a prince, warrior, or monarch in your vast host who did not feel the sting of the arrows of Satyaki. The strength of his arms was undiminished, and his mastery of the bow rivalled that of Arjuna himself, perhaps even surpassing it for that fleeting hour. This was no mere judgment of mine; the celestials, watching from the heavens, voiced their admiration and applauded the splendour of his martial skill.”
Though Duryodhana and his allies showered him with a relentless storm of arrows, Satyaki met their assault with a smile. With serene precision he shattered their standards, struck down charioteers and steeds, and severed the heads of warriors and kings as effortlessly as a gardener plucks blossoms from a branch. Your army, O King, beheld with awe the steadiness of his hand, the swiftness of his aim, and the unerring certainty with which he reduced chariots to splinters and laid low horses and elephants in mountainous heaps upon the earth.
Then, aided by Shakuni, Duryodhana advanced to arrest Satyaki’s onward course. Inflated with confidence in his own prowess, he sought to curb the hero’s impetuous advance and hemmed him in with a circle of warriors, pouring upon him a dense rain of arrows blazing like tongues of fire. But Satyaki swiftly cut Shakuni’s bow in twain and with a keen shaft severed the head of Duryodhana’s charioteer. Bereft of guidance, the royal steeds bore Duryodhana’s chariot far from the field. Seeing their leader thus discomfited, your sons and their forces scattered in confusion, and Satyaki, unopposed, pressed onward toward the quarter he had set his heart upon.
Then Dhritarashtra spoke: “It is indeed a matter of shame that warriors of royal lineage, abandoning courage and honour, should flee before the valour of a single hero. Such conduct is unworthy of kshatriyas and stains the dignity of our house.”
Sanjaya replied: “O King, can one reap any fruit other than this from the seeds of injustice and wickedness sown by you and your eldest son? Yet listen now to the events that followed upon the field.”
When your sons and their divisions had once more been routed, Duryodhana urged forward the princes of the Ambashthas, the Tanganas, and the Paradas. Supported by their fourfold armies and led by Dushasana, they surrounded Satyaki on every side. Undaunted, he fought with the same unshaken vigour. Chariots were shattered beyond count; elephants fell like uprooted trees and lay stretched across the plain; horses were cut to pieces and scattered over the blood-soaked earth. The limbs and bodies of warriors were heaped in dreadful mounds, and rivers of blood flowed through the battlefield. Spirits, beasts of prey, and celestial beings alike gazed upon that fearful spectacle in astonishment, extolling the unconquerable spirit of the Yadava prince.
Enraged by these repeated reverses, Dushasana summoned savage mountain tribesmen who hurled stones and rocks upon Satyaki. But with his arrows he broke the descending stones into fragments so fine that they fell back upon your own troops, wounding those who had cast them. Thus, O King, did your sons become the victims of their own assault. Satyaki then overwhelmed those tribal warriors and filled them with terror. Dushasana and his companions, stricken with fear, fled to seek the protection of Drona.
Drona, beholding Dushasana’s disordered state and hearing the tumult arising from the quarter where Satyaki raged, asked sternly, “Is Duryodhana safe? What has become of Arjuna, and what fate has overtaken Jayadratha? How is it that, despite commanding such a mighty host, you have suffered defeat? Whither do you flee now?”
Still aflame with anger, Drona continued: “In the royal assembly you insulted the virtuous and noble Draupadi. Have you forgotten the vows then uttered by the Pandavas? Where is that pride which once swelled in your heart? You mocked the righteous and now stand reduced to this disgrace. If life is dear to you and if any wisdom yet remains, advise your brother to restore to the Pandavas their rightful share of the kingdom. But intoxicated by folly, he rejected the counsel of Bhishma. And now, though surrounded by princes and kings, you are hunted by Satyaki like a frightened beast seeking refuge behind me.”
Dushasana, unable to answer his preceptor’s rebuke, bowed his head in silence. Regaining his composure, he once more turned his chariot toward the battle and renewed his assault upon Satyaki.
Meanwhile Drona, with invincible archery and consummate skill, fell upon the Pandava forces like a blazing fire driven by the wind. His arrows spread confusion through their ranks. Then Veeraketu struck Drona’s charioteer, but the preceptor swiftly retaliated and severed the prince’s head. At Veeraketu’s fall, his brothers—Chitraketu, Sudhanvan, and Chitraratha—rained arrows upon Drona. Yet the Acharya slew them all, and the heads of their warriors fell to the ground like flowers shaken from trees by a gust of wind.
Witnessing this grievous destruction, Dhrishtadyumna was seized with wrath. His eyes blazed like fire as he rushed against Drona and pierced his chest with keen shafts. The preceptor swooned for a moment, and cries of anguish arose from his followers. Seizing sword and shield, Dhrishtadyumna leapt from his chariot and sprang upon Drona’s car like a lion descending upon its prey, intent upon severing the Acharya’s head.
Recovering his senses, Drona snatched up a weapon and struck Dhrishtadyumna, forcing him to recoil as one stung by a swarm of wasps. Returning to his own chariot, the son of Drupada showered Drona with arrows. But Drona slew his charioteer, and the frightened steeds carried Dhrishtadyumna away from the field. Reinvigorated, the preceptor resumed his devastating assault, scattering the Pandava host in all directions. So terrible was his wrath, and so irresistible his command of celestial weapons, that the Pandava warriors dared not even cast their eyes toward the quarter where he stood.
Thus, O King, while Drona sent Dushasana once more against Satyaki, Duryodhana dispatched the Trigarta warriors to support him. In this measured manner did I recount these events, softening their harshness so as not to deepen the anguish of your aged and sightless heart.”
