At that dawn, Duryodhana rose with pride, sensing that his design was steadily taking shape. Having completed his daily oblations, he proceeded to the assembly where his allies and kinsmen were already gathered. He greeted Dussasana, Karna, and Sakuni with courtesy, while others present reported in detail on the arrangements that had been made, praising the readiness that promised terror to their enemies. There stood Dronacharya, the lover of war; Radheya, the peerless archer and tireless fighter; Aswaddhama, strong in sinew and fierce in resolve; Bahlika, proud of his ancient chivalry; Salya, a mountain of courage; Kripacharya, unbeaten in battle; Bhurisrava, aflame with the spirit of combat; Sakuni, son of Subala, shining with the pride of cunning and trained in the sword; Kruthavarma, firm and chivalrous; the king of Kambhoja, strongest among the strong; and Saindhava, wealthy through adventure and skilled with the bow. These were chosen as commanders of the eleven Akshouhini forces.
Duryodhana, having resolved this matter himself, communicated his decision to the council. Addressing the assembled commanders, he declared that he was fully aware of their abilities and wished them to accept the positions entrusted to them. They were then formally anointed as heads of each Akshouhini, according to tradition, with the prescribed rites duly performed. When the primary and secondary selections were complete, Duryodhana proceeded with the commanders to Bhishma and bowed to him with humility, introducing them as the chiefs of their respective divisions.
With folded hands, Duryodhana spoke to the grandsire, saying that the army consisted of many tribes, traditions, and origins, each with its own purpose. He asked whether such a diverse host could truly act with unity in war and whether their commitment could be firmly secured. If their resolve failed, he feared it would lead to disgrace and disorder. The one who led the army, he said, must inspire confidence toward a single objective and kindle faith in victory, for only through the chief could such varied forces be bound together in love of the cause. Some, he suspected, had joined not out of loyalty but for reasons such as vengeance, hostility toward enemies, annexation of neighboring realms, or the filling of their treasuries. Yet even such motives could be forged into one purpose under a supreme commander. He recalled that even the gods had waged wars under a single command, and thus entreated Bhishma to bear that burden, praising him as the moon among stars for the Kauravas, unequaled in war and strategy, capable of carrying them safely across the ocean of battle. He begged him to shield them with his grace, to wage war, and to ensure victory.
Bhishma replied that the sons of Pandu and Duryodhana themselves were alike to him. He declared that if war should break out, he would stand on Duryodhana’s side, for that befitted his position and duty. He accepted the role of commander-in-chief, affirming that none on earth could confront him, yet admitting that he could not confront Kiriti, whose mastery of archery surpassed his own. All others he would strike down, but he would not slay the sons of Pandu, nor would they rise against him with vengeance or triumph. Time alone, he said, would determine the course of action when necessity arose. He then set forth his condition: that either he or Karna must hold the foremost place in battle.
At this, Karna addressed Duryodhana and dispelled any doubt, declaring openly in the assembly that he would not take the reins of war until Bhishmacharya had fallen on the battlefield. Thus Duryodhana anointed Bhishma as commander-in-chief of the army. He praised the grandsire’s resolve and zeal to shield the Kauravas with his immense strength, and the kingdom resounded with celebration. Great kettle drums and hand-held drums thundered, percussion instruments blended with traditional music, and the blare of conches filled the air in all directions. Processions bearing banners marched through every quarter. The city was adorned, and waters were fetched from sacred rivers in vessels of gold, silver, and gem-studded urns. Sanctified with sacred bark, tender leaves, flowers, and herbs, and accompanied by Vedic hymns chanted by learned scholars, the rites were performed. Holy bands were tied upon Duryodhana’s wrists and sinews, and under solemn oaths and sacred waters, he was consecrated as commander of the eleven Akshouhini of the Kaurava forces.
Thereafter, Duryodhana summoned the commanders and instructed them to obey Bhishma’s commands, formally handing over to him the mantle of military authority. At that moment, nature itself revealed signs of the calamity to come. The sky roared unnaturally; stones, bones, and blood rained down; thunderbolts struck in many corners of the kingdom, instantly taking lives. These dreadful omens drained the people of their enthusiasm. The king of Kuru distributed charities and performed rites to appease planetary afflictions and restore peace, then fixed his mind upon the journey to war. Dhritarashtra and Gandhari were struck with terror by the ominous signs and the loss of life they witnessed. Duryodhana, allowing them no time to react, hastened to salute them, sought permission to depart, and swiftly withdrew with hurried determination. His retinue and kinsmen followed as the earth trembled beneath their march.
As Duryodhana’s forces advanced toward Kurukshetra, Dronacharya stood at the forefront of the armies. The pounding of horses’ hooves, the heavy gait of elephants, the rolling rush of chariots, and the marching of countless foot soldiers filled the air with a mingled roar of fear, hope, and despair, shaking the very ground. Upon reaching Kurukshetra, King Suyodhana chose a pleasant region for his station and carefully assigned camps for his forces and entourage. Tents and dwellings with every facility were raised, stables for elephants and horses prepared, and places for chariots fixed under the supervision of Karna, Dussasana, and Sakuni. Thus, the entire host stood ready for action.
Meanwhile Balarama, mighty, wise, and unmatched as a wielder of the mace, slayer of Dhenukasura, Pralambasura, Dwivida, Mustika, Rukmi, and Romaharshana for their unrighteous deeds and oppression of the people, heard of the vast forces gathered for the great war. Foreseeing ruin and suffering for the multitudes, he was overcome with deep sorrow at the course events had taken, which defied his hopes. Setting out with a few companions, he met Dharmaraja, who embraced him with reverence. Sri Krishna, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva also circled him with folded hands and paid their respects. He greeted Drupada, Virata, and other eminent kings, praising their humility.
With anxiety in his voice, Balarama spoke of the cruelty consuming both Kauravas and Pandavas, who were poised to bring harm upon kin and the people of the earth alike. He questioned whether such dreadful acts could ever be justified. This extreme and terrible war between the houses of Kuru and Pandu, he said, was unbearable to him. For this reason, he had pleaded even with Krishna, with divine fervor, to forge peace between them. Despite his earnest counsel, peace had not been achieved, and the folly of those who could not speak with restraint had cast aside all accords, assembling instead for destruction. The unexpected fury of these events compelled Dharmaraja and Krishna to maneuver with great skill, allowing Balarama to withdraw and leave matters to unfold as destiny ordained. Thus the twists, turns, shocks, and turmoil that preceded the first clash stood as silent guides to what the future would unfold.
