Sanjaya spoke: O King Dhritarashtra, your forces, swelling with fervent zeal for battle and overflowing with pride, arrayed themselves in the mighty Śakata-vyūha, the formation shaped like a vast war-cart, resplendent with ornaments and the arrogance of power, as though eager to swallow the opposing host.
Upon the right wing stood Jayadratha and Bhagadatta, supported by Vikarna and Shakuni, with their well-trained cavalry marshalled in disciplined ranks; while on the left were stationed Kritavarma, Vivimsati, and Chitrasena, aided by Dushasana, together with the kings of the Kambojas and the Yavanas, fierce and resolute in war.
In the centre were gathered the lords of Trigarta, Madra, Śibi, and Śūrasena, encircling the venerable Dronacharya as their foremost bulwark, while the king of Anga, Karna, stood near with a complete fourfold army, and Duryodhana, surrounded by massive divisions of warriors, ensured that every side was guarded with vigilance for the protection of Drona.
The radiant countenance of Karna, illumined by pride and fierce joy, inspired the soldiers, who whispered among themselves with swelling confidence: “In this battle, the sinewy strength of the Pandavas shall be utterly destroyed by Karna; none among gods or celestial hosts can withstand him. Though Bhishma was invincible, he bore a tenderness toward the sons of Pandu and did not restrain them with full severity; but Karna, inflamed with wrath, shall shatter the fame of their valor and reduce their glory to dust.”
Thus, by the cunning contrivance of your sons, O King, these words of inflated assurance were spread among the ranks, and the warriors, intoxicated with such illusions, leapt forward with eagerness, as if the terrible war were but a sport.
Even as the army of Drona advanced, dreadful portents manifested: though no cloud veiled the sky, there fell showers of blood, flesh, and bones; vultures circled above, and foxes, uttering shrill cries, gathered in ominous bands; meteors blazed across the heavens, foretelling ruin. Yet the Kauravas, heedless of these signs of doom, sounded their conches and beat their drums, while the clash of cymbals and the blare of horns drowned all whispers of fear and apprehension.
On the opposing side, the Pandava host advanced with composed pride, their spirit calm yet resolute, and both armies, possessed by the desire for victory and the confidence of strength, rushed into battle like opposing tides of a boundless sea.
Their splendid array, adorned with banners and ornaments, resembled a grove of mango trees laden with tender leaves, and at their forefront, Drona shone like the rising sun, bestowing courage upon his followers even as he prepared to confront the foe. Yet Arjuna, discerning every movement, advanced like the surging ocean and the devouring flame, striking against your armies with irresistible force.
T
he enthusiasm of the Pandavas spread like a gentle breeze, refreshing their ranks and astonishing even the celestial beings who beheld the scene from the heavens; while the dust raised by horses, elephants, and chariots darkened the sky, dimming the rays of the sun, until all seemed enveloped in twilight.
Then the clashing of weapons, the collision of arrows, and the crashing of chariots struck forth sparks like lightning, dispelling the gloom; and the dreadful sounds of elephants colliding, chariots shattering, and warriors crying in anguish filled the quarters, overwhelming all else.
Streams of blood flowed through the battlefield, formed by the slaughter of the fourfold armies on both sides, striking terror into all who beheld it; and hosts of Siddhas, Sādhyas, Gandharvas, and Vidyādharas gazed in awe and dread at that fearful spectacle, wondering at the destruction wrought by mortal hands.
Amidst this chaos, Drona, borne upon his golden chariot drawn by red steeds, moved with astonishing swiftness, as though the sun itself had descended to whirl upon the earth; everywhere his presence was felt, and none could discern his course, so swiftly did he range across the field.
With a relentless rain of arrows, he harassed the warriors of Panchala and the Pandavas alike, as if the final dissolution of the world had begun; elephants fell, horses were swept away in torrents of blood, chariots were shattered, and weapons lay broken, while Drona strode through the carnage like the very Lord of Death.
O Dhritarashtra, the divisions of chariots were thrown into disorder, the Pandava ranks were pierced and scattered by showers of shafts, and many fled in terror, as though struck by thunderbolts and lightning; such was the irresistible might of Dronacharya.
Employing both his own prowess and the power of divine weapons, he overwhelmed the Pandavas, who stood momentarily stunned, as if blinded by a sudden and unendurable blaze of light, unable to behold the full fury of his advance, thus did Sanjaya faithfully report the dreadful course of that battle.
