In the great hall of the Kuru race, where elders, princes, counsellors, and well-wishers were gathered, a grave and searching deliberation arose concerning the path to be chosen, for the shadow of war already darkened the horizon. Each voice that spoke did so with the hope of restraining the coming ruin, and yet the tide of fate pressed forward. In the midst of this anxious council, Sanjaya, his heart burdened and his spirit inflamed, addressed the blind king with words sharp and unsparing.
“O King,” he said, “you desire to know who stand beside Dharmaraja. Give your ears and your mind to my words, though you already know them all. With him comes the slayer of the impossible Bakasura, the saviour of the people of Ekachakrapura, the destroyer of the mighty Jatasura, the breaker of Hidimba’s terror in the forest, and the one who freed the sons of Pandu from every cruel snare. He who crushed the insolent oppressor of women in the land of Matsya and reduced that boastful commander to a lifeless mass will come with Dharmaraja. Ever eager for battle, terrible in wrath, equal in strength to ten thousand elephants, the son of the Wind, Bhimasena, will stand at Yudhisthira’s side, shattering the stratagems of enemies as easily as dry reeds.”
“And with him,” Sanjaya continued, “comes Arjuna, whose divine prowess once challenged the three-eyed Lord himself, whose stature seems to touch the sky, whose bow brings terror before its very sound is heard. At his arrival, your armies and the pride of your warriors will seek hiding places like frightened beasts. Dharmaraja also advances with Nakula and Sahadeva, and this is like losing wild lions upon a trembling host. A hunter may take dogs to frighten prey and still labour to strike it down, but when lions are released, the task completes itself without command. Thus, he warns of the dread that will follow if the sons of Pandu are provoked into war.”
“With them stand the sons of Draupadi and the son of Subhadra, Abhimanyu, warriors whose weapons never miss their mark, living missiles launched toward destruction. The Vrishni hero Satyaki, brother to Krishna, burns like an unchecked forest fire, while Draupadi’s brothers rage like winds that carry flame from woodland to town and village. Hear me, O King. Drupada of Panchala shines with valour, Virata of Matsya stands as a treasury of courage with his brothers, the kings of Kekaya, five in number and famed for commanding might, the son of Jarasandha, Jayatsena, the sons of Sisupala, and Drishtaketu, each like a towering tusker. Chekitana of the Yadavas, whose delight is battle, and the king Saibya, unmatched in gallantry, all march with Dharmaraja, needing no instruction, for their hearts are already aflame.”
“All these warriors,” Sanjaya said, “burn in harmony with the vengeance of the Pandavas and descend upon the battlefield like thunderbolts without warning. Ghatotkacha, the son of Bhima, gifted with immense strength and powers beyond the common measure, will bewilder armies with his illusions. Kings from the east and the north will arrive with vast fourfold forces, ready to plunge even into fire for the sake of the sons of Pandu. And above all stands Krishna, son of Devaki, the one capable of holding the worlds as if in his grasp. With such strength gathered around him, why should Dharmaraja not advance if his rightful share is denied?”
When Sanjaya ceased, Dhritarashtra spoke, his voice heavy with fear. “The warriors you name are indeed mighty,” he said. “Yet when strength is weighed, Bhima alone outweighs them all. His oath is to slay the sons of Kuru with his own hands, and he will fulfil it without fail. He is bold, his delight is in breaking the designs of enemies, and to me he appears like a lion haunting my dreams. When I think of Bhima, my mind loses peace, and sleep abandons me. There is none in our host who can face him. When he raises his mace, it seems the noose of Death itself. He will roam among the Kaurava ranks like an enraged lion amid herds of goats.”
“Even in his youth,” the king continued, “I could not restrain him. Those who challenge him now do so with thoughts of revenge, yet they will not withdraw, though they know his power. This is the root of the feud between Pandavas and Kauravas. Even hosts of demons combined could not withstand Bhimasena. His furious form, eyes blazing like fireballs, sinews swelling with power, fists hard as iron clubs, his very steps resembling the dance of death, rise before my inner sight and fill me with terror. He is an ocean of destruction, impossible for my sons to cross. By the cruelty of fate and their own arrogance, my children know neither their strength nor the strength of others.”
“Arjuna and Bhima,” Dhritarashtra said again, “are like fire and wind moving freely on the field, wielding the invincible Gandiva and the mace of death. We have never seen courage equal to Arjuna’s in any age. He keeps his word without fail and never utters an empty promise. Gandiva’s radiance is unmatched, and Krishna’s splendour is beyond desire or comparison. Arjuna alone is a blazing fire in battle, and when these three stand united, how can we endure the heat of their towering fury? Though Arjuna may not conquer every foe outright, the arrows of his bow will reduce armies to ashes.”
Thus, the king’s thoughts wavered wildly, heavy with dread. He went on to say that Bhishma and Drona knew well the might of Krishna and Arjuna, yet by the law of duty they stood at the head of the Kauravas host, ready to give their lives for honour alone. Bound by kinship and discipleship to both sides, they remained with him despite knowing the error that hung over his house. “Fate denies me the power to restrain my sons,” he lamented. “Vidura has explained to me the course and the end of their wickedness, and now ruin descends upon the Kauravas. Duryodhana’s greed has forged this calamity. In the turning of time, we have fallen into misery. Sanjaya, what path remains for me, and where shall I turn?”
“We speak only of Bhima and Arjuna,” he added, “yet Nakula and Sahadeva are their equals. Drupada and his allies are mighty, and Yudhisthira himself is firm in battle, renowned for humility, wisdom, and noble character. He knows how to govern kin, servants, and all around him. He is the embodiment of truth and virtue. To oppose such power is like a swarm of locusts rushing proudly into a blazing fire. War with the Pandavas will uproot our very lineage. Peace alone is fitting, and if it is accepted, I shall strive for it with all my strength.”
Sanjaya answered swiftly, “Lord, your vision is noble. Your words fall like gentle rain upon scorched earth. Even now there is time to correct what has gone astray. If you act rightly, the sons of Pandu will come under your guidance and will not harm the Kauravas.” The sudden clarity with which the king laid bare his heart astonished the assembly, and yet hope lingered in the minds of elders and friends. Still, all awaited the next turn of Dhritarashtra’s wavering resolve, as Sanjaya continued both his counsel and his watchful reporting of events yet to unfold.
