The son of Hidimba, the mighty Ghatotkacha, master of demonic arts and peerless in martial discipline, pondered for a moment whether he should cast a spell upon the Kauravas and plunge them into bewildering illusion; yet, setting aside that design, he advanced in open combat and assailed Bhagadatta, who rode upon the noble elephant Supratika. Ghatotkacha himself was mounted upon a vast and untamed elephant of the wilderness, four-tusked and terrible to behold. The Kaurava hosts, beholding his dreadful splendour, whispered among themselves that perhaps Indra had descended with the thunderbolt Vajra, seated upon Airavata, to lend aid unto the sons of Pandu.
A multitude of demon warriors gathered in support of Ghatotkacha, mounted upon gigantic elephants resembling the celestial beasts Anjana and Vamana. The demon prince pressed forward and confronted Duryodhana, who strove to restrain him; yet the trained elephant Supratika barred his path like a living rampart. With keen shafts the son of Hidimba smote the elephant, which, crying aloud in anguish, turned and fled. Then Ghatotkacha, advancing toward Duryodhana, scattered warriors before him as a tempest scatters dry leaf.
Beholding this havoc, the grandsire Bhishma spoke unto Drona: “The son of Hidimba exults in his magical warfare and lays waste to our ranks. He has driven away Bhagadatta and now rushes upon Duryodhana. This fierce assault must be checked. Bhagadatta is a proven hero and might overcome him, yet his elephant has recoiled in fear. Strike at the beast and halt his course.” So, saying, he advanced.
Bhishma, together with Drona and many chariot-warriors, placed themselves between Duryodhana and Ghatotkacha and discharged volleys of arrows against him. From the Pandava lines, Yudhishthira, Drupada, Virata, and other valiant kings showered shafts upon the Kaurava forces. The battle grew fierce and dreadful beyond measure. The Kaurava commander tore through opposing soldiers, yet Ghatotkacha roared louder than a lion and plunged into the enemy ranks. His thunderous cry seemed a command to the wild elephants, which, maddened with terror, spread devastation across the field.
At length, Bhishma, perceiving the pitiable state of the army, said unto Drona, “My heart inclines not to further combat with Ghatotkacha. The sun declines in the western sky. Let us cease for the day and renew the battle on the morrow.” Drona assented and ordered the host to withdraw. The Kaurava forces retreated, while the Pandavas rejoiced with leonine shouts; thus, your sons, humbled and dispirited, returned to their respective encampments.
Hearing this account, the blind king Dhritarashtra addressed Sanjaya: “Thou ever extollest the valour of the Pandavas and reportest the Kauravas as inferior. I perceive in thy words no balance. Tell me why the Pandavas, disregarding Bhishma, Drona, Salya, and other heroes, strike our forces with such irresistible might.” Though the king well knew in his heart the wickedness of his sons and the righteousness pursued by the sons of Pandu, yet attachment clouded his judgment, and he reproached Sanjaya with partiality, forgetting that the sage Vyasa had granted him divine sight to narrate events without distortion. Bound by blind affection, the king neither gained nor lost by hearing; he could do naught but lament in defeat and exult in imagined triumph.
Then Sanjaya, firm and piercing in speech, replied, “O sinless king, the supremacy of the Pandavas arises not from herbs, talismans, sacred chants, or magical arts. I have told thee this before: moral strength abides with them. Justice and righteousness are the two eyes of Yudhishthira. When thy sons committed grievous wrongs, thou didst remain silent; that injustice now returns upon thee. Virtue alone shall triumph. The Pandava brothers shall prevail, and thy sons shall fall. Long ago did Vidura warn thee, yet thou didst not heed him. The very question thou askest me was once put by Duryodhana to Bhishma, and he answered thus: the Pandavas are sustained by Krishna; with his support nothing is impossible. Whoever knows him and seeks refuge in him shall not be overcome by calamity.”
“I shall reveal unto thee a secret,” continued Sanjaya. “In ancient times, upon the banks of the sacred lake Manasa in the northern mountains, Brahma and the assembled gods beheld a radiant celestial chariot blazing with gems. Therein was the great Narayana. Brahma rose in reverence and saluted him, saying: ‘O Narayana, thou art the source of creation, preservation, and dissolution. By thy grace the worlds endure. Now the earth is oppressed by demonic forces; therefore, be born in the Yadu line, O Vishnu, together with thy eternal companion Nara, and relieve the earth of her burden.’ Narayana assented, and the gods marvelled. Brahma declared that those two primeval souls would descend as Krishna and Arjuna for the welfare of mankind.”
“Thus, have I heard from Narada, from Parasurama, and from Vyasa that Krishna and Arjuna are verily Nara and Narayana in human guise. Many times, have I warned thee. Even now it is not too late: seek refuge in Krishna and make peace with the sons of Pandu. Yet Duryodhana turned a deaf ear, and thou, bound by misguided love, didst not restrain him.” Thus did Sanjaya conclude, dispelling the king’s unjust reproach with words of truth and solemn counsel.
