Sanjaya continued his narration to King Dhritarashtra. At the behest of Sri Krishna, Dharmaraja resolved that Duryodhana could not be allowed to escape the destiny ordained for him on the battlefield. Standing on the bank of the lake where the Kaurava prince had concealed himself, Yudhishthira raised his voice, not merely to summon him, but to awaken the warrior’s honour buried beneath fear and despair.
“O Duryodhana,” he declared, “men have long hailed you as a mighty hero. Is it worthy of a renowned warrior to hide beneath the waters while the world watches? Where has your famed self-respect vanished? Kings are born to face danger with unshaken courage, not to flee from it. You are no ordinary ruler but the heir of the illustrious Kuru dynasty. By abandoning your glory and choosing concealment, you have embraced a course that will invite ridicule from both friend and foe.”
Dharmaraja continued with stern conviction. “What value remains in life when honour has been cast aside? You witnessed your brothers, your sons, and your dearest companions fall upon the battlefield. How then does your conscience permit you alone to preserve your body while they embraced death? Fate has driven you into this lonely lake, but remember that self-respect stands higher than life itself. Have you forgotten the arrogant words you uttered before the assembled elders? The same pride that once filled your heart has now deserted you. The world will forever remember that the mighty king of kings hid in fear before the Pandavas.”
His words grew sharper. “You placed unwavering trust in Karna, Shakuni, and Dushasana, and with their support you inflicted immeasurable suffering upon countless people. That strength has vanished, and harsh reality now stands before you. We have witnessed your might until this very day. Now you are trapped. Tell us, where can you flee from destiny?”
Sanjaya said that these piercing words filled the eyes of King Dhritarashtra with tears. Yet Dharmaraja spoke further with unwavering firmness. “Abandon fear. Gather your courage and prepare for single combat. Whether victory crowns you or death claims you, either destiny is worthy of a Kshatriya. Rise and confront us. If you triumph, the earth shall once again be yours to rule. If you fall, the celestial worlds will welcome you with honour. But if you remain hidden, humiliation shall become your eternal companion, and death itself will offer no dignity. Therefore arise. I proclaim before all that the sacred code ordained by Brahma for a warrior is to meet battle with fearless resolve. If any trace of manliness remains within you, follow my counsel.”
At last Duryodhana emerged from silence and replied. “O King, is it surprising that a man values his life? Listen carefully. I possess neither chariot nor charioteer. My divine weapons are gone. No loyal servants or trusted friends remain beside me. My body is torn with painful wounds, leaving me unable to continue the battle. It was only for this reason that I sought refuge here. Permit me a little rest until my strength returns. You too may refresh yourselves, and then let us meet again to display our prowess.”
Dharmaraja answered without hesitation. “Cruel prince, you have already enjoyed sufficient rest. We searched for you tirelessly and have now found you. Your weariness has passed. There remains nothing except the duty of battle. Prepare yourself.”
Duryodhana’s voice then softened with the grief of irreparable loss. “For whom did I desire this kingdom? My brothers are no more. Those with whom I wished to share wealth and happiness have all perished. My sons lie dead, and my vast army has been destroyed. Even if this earth were won, what joy could it possibly bring? Bhishma, Drona, and Karna, whose companionship gave meaning to my sovereignty, have departed forever. Without those beloved companions, kingship itself has become an empty burden.”
He continued with unusual humility. “Your brothers, your allies, and your servants still stand beside you. Rule this entire earth without opposition. I no longer desire war. I freely offer you the kingdom. I shall retire to the forest, devote myself to penance, and spend the remainder of my days among peaceful sages. Defeat has stripped away my pride. What purpose does ambition now serve?”
Hearing these words, Dharmaraja smiled gently yet spoke with uncompromising righteousness. “After all your brothers have fallen, you still brought Shalya to the battlefield, hoping to secure victory and regain your throne. Why then do you utter these meaningless words? If your heart has truly embraced dharma, then prove it by accepting battle. I cannot accept the earth as a gift from one who has no right to donate it. I shall win it only through victory in combat. If you overcome me, happiness shall indeed be yours.”
His voice became resolute. “Who are you to bestow this kingdom upon another? When Sri Krishna himself sought peace and requested only land sufficient for the point of a needle, you refused with arrogance. Had you possessed such generosity then, the Kuru race would never have been stained with everlasting disgrace. Having failed to seize the kingdom by force, you now resort to hollow words. Even if I gain the earth, I shall not spare your life. The only path left before you is to stand like a true warrior and fight. Your life rests in my hands, and mine rests in yours. Such is the destiny of kings.”
Dharmaraja reminded him of every grievous wrong committed against the Pandavas. “You built the house of lac to burn us alive. You mixed poison into our food. You hurled us into the waters, hoping to end our lives. Again and again you devised cruel conspiracies against us. Yet by divine grace every wicked design failed. Those deceitful means shall protect you no longer. Rise now. Face us openly. There is no nobler path remaining before you, and deep within your own heart you know this truth.”
Sanjaya told the sorrow-stricken monarch that Dharmaraja’s powerful words, supported by the other Pandavas, echoed across the lonely shore. Every sentence struck Duryodhana like an arrow, compelling him to confront the inevitable end that destiny had prepared.
Overwhelmed with anguish, King Dhritarashtra interrupted Sanjaya. “What did my unfortunate son do thereafter? Never before had he known fear. It was he who spread terror in every direction, and mighty kings obeyed his command without question. Today he stands alone, bereft of servants, companions, and support, surrounded by his enemies and pierced by their relentless words. Tell me, Sanjaya, how could my son bear such unbearable humiliation?”
Sanjaya bowed respectfully before the grieving monarch and prepared to narrate the most decisive and emotionally charged episode of the Kurukshetra war, where pride, destiny, righteousness, and the final measure of a warrior’s courage would soon be tested before the eyes of heaven and earth.
