When the tide of battle had grown fierce and the words of reproach had fallen harshly from the lips of the king, the order of kinship stood dissolved upon the field. Duryodhana was no longer a grandson before an elder, nor was Bhishma merely a grandsire; the former reigned as sovereign of the Kauravas, and the latter stood as commander-in-chief of their vast and trembling hosts. Stung by undue criticism and stirred by the heated currents of war, Bhishma resolved to vindicate his honour and his office. Endowed with transcendental blessings and bound by his vow to satisfy the will of his king, he burst forth as a true warrior awakened to destiny. His assurance of crushing the enemy ranks infused the Kaurava forces with fierce enthusiasm, and they stood prepared to shed their last drop of blood upon the consecrated earth of Kurukshetra.
The blind monarch, Dhritarashtra, with words laden in courtesy yet trembling in anxiety, addressed his seer and charioteer. “O venerable Sanjaya,” said he, “relate unto me how Bhishma unleashed his valour upon the battlefield after enduring the humiliation of my son’s speech, and how thereafter the war advanced.” His curiosity was sharpened by an inward fear, for he longed to know what fruit his son’s cunning and crude demeanour had borne in the heart of the aged commander.
Sanjaya spoke: the sun stood high in the mid-heaven, pouring down its blazing splendour, and beneath that orb Bhishma shone yet more radiant, as though rivalling the midday luminary. From his bow issued arrows sharp and burning like rays of fire, and his astras sped forth with piercing brilliance against Arjuna. Under Duryodhana’s command, the lords of many kingdoms lost their shafts upon the sons of Pandu as a forest conflagration devours dry wood. The Pandavas answered with a resolute counterattack, and thus arose a fierce and terrible slaughter. Each warrior met his worthy counterpart; each blow was returned with equal force. The spectacle was such that even celestial beings beheld it with wonder, praising the dexterity, courage, and valour displayed on both sides.
The battlefield resounded with cries of anguish, warning, defiance, triumph, and despair. Kettle-drums thundered; conches, horns, and trumpets blared; swords clashed; arrows hissed; tridents pierced; weapons shattered and struck again. Earth and sky alike seemed shaken by that dread symphony, as though the Lord of Death himself presided over the dance of doom. Limbs, heads, and severed trunks lay heaped in rivers of blood; flesh and Armor were mingled with shattered chariots, broken maces, splintered bows, and fallen crowns. The scene resembled a ghastly ocean wherein half-dead bodies floated like fish, flowing blood became the water, and clotted flesh the mire. Elephants lay piled like dark clouds fallen from the heavens, and horses and chariots were reduced to fragments without form. Death had levelled all distinction; fear and pain alike were swallowed in its silent embrace.
Meanwhile, the Pandava warriors gathered in clusters, clearing a path for Arjuna to advance with his divine charioteer, Krishna. Bhishma grew yet more terrible, his bowstring resounding in all directions; with magical swiftness and unfailing precision, he seemed to appear everywhere at once. None could endure his onslaught. Those who opposed him were severed and cast down; he swept through the enemy lines like a tempest scattering dry grass. The celestials praised the steadfast strength and unerring aim of the Kauravas commander as he shattered the fourfold divisions of the opposing army. Chariots were broken, elephants and horses slain, and soldiers feel lifeless beneath his blazing shafts. Like a raging inferno, like the dread dance of Rudra at the end of time, he strode across the field in sovereign destruction. The warriors of Panchala and the Yadava hosts stood stunned, and even the Pandavas could scarcely restrain him; their ranks trembled like tender twigs before a storm.
Then Krishna, seizing the reins of the steeds firmly, halted the chariot and addressed Arjuna: “O hero, thou hast oft proclaimed that thou wouldst vanquish the assembled might of Kripa, Drona, and Bhishma. Behold now, like Rudra in the hour of dissolution, Bhishma consumed thy forces. This is the hour to manifest thy courage and valour. If thou remain complacent, the fire of this warrior shall devour the entire Pandavas host.” Arjuna, perceiving the gravity of the moment, replied with resolve, “Turn our chariot toward Bhishma. I shall restrain his fury, subdue his spirit, and send a clear message to the enemy, thereby restoring the confidence of our ranks.”
Krishna guided the chariot directly in front of the roaring commander. Bhishma, like a lion unleashed, discharged volleys of arrows upon the horses, upon Krishna, and upon Arjuna; his shafts struck true and inflicted grievous pain. Arjuna, in swift retaliation, shattered the commander’s bow, yet Bhishma seized another and continued his relentless storm. With consummate skill, Krishna steered the chariot between the whistling arrows, moving with graceful precision despite the ceaseless assault. Though pierced and wounded, Arjuna maintained his composure and answered shaft with shaft; yet the blazing fury of Bhishma did not diminish.
Observing the disarray of the Pandavas ranks and the pride swelling in the Kuru host, Krishna pondered within himself: the warriors flee in fear, none stands equal to Bhishma, and Arjuna wavers under anguish. The exultation of Duryodhana and his allies grows with every passing moment. If righteousness is to prevail, decisive action cannot be delayed. Surrounded by mighty charioteers—Kripa, Kritavarma, Ashwatthama, Bhurisravas, Jayadratha, Vikarna, and others—Arjuna was pressed on all sides. Then Satyaki, surveying the strengths and weaknesses of both armies, rebuked him: “Hast thou forgotten thy vow? Retreat not. Whether Bhishma or any other confront thee, meet him without fear. I stand beside thee.” His words rekindled courage among the wavering ranks.
Krishna then, stirred by righteous wrath, declared that he would not endure the triumph of adharma. He proclaimed his resolve to subdue Bhishma and Drona, to scatter the Kauravas, and to establish the sons of Kunti in rightful sovereignty. Speaking thus, as one prepared to wield even his divine discuss, if need be, he advanced with irresistible determination. So narrated Sanjaya the surging waves of battle that raged like ocean and tempest upon that third day, and Dhritarashtra, his anxiety unassuaged, yearned to hear what fate unfolded thereafter.
