Anugita Parva — An account of Abhimanyu's death

Vaishampayana said After the great Vasudeva of great prowess had finished his narration of the great battle of the Bharatas before his father, it was plain that that hero had passed over the destruction of Abhimanyu. The motive of the great one was that his father might not hear what was highly unpleasant to him.

Indeed, the intelligent Krishna did not wish that his father Vasudeva should, on hearing the dreadful intelligence of the death of his daughter's son, be afflicted with sorrow and grief.

(His sister) Subhadra, noticing that the slaughter of her son had not been mentioned, addressed her brother, saying, Do you narrate the death of my son, O Krishna!-and dropped down on the earth (in a swoon).

Vasudeva saw his daughter fallen on the ground. As soon as he saw this, he also fell down, deprived of his senses by grief.

(Regaining his senses) Vasudeva, afflicted with grief at the death of his daughter's son, O king, addressed Krishna, saying, O lotus-eyed one, you are famed on Earth for being truthful in speech. Why, however, O destroyer of enemies, do you not tell me today of the death of my daughter's son?

O powerful one, tell me in full of the destruction of your sister's son! Having eyes resembling thine, alas, how was he killed in battle by enemies.

Since my heart does not from grief break into a hundred pieces, it seems, O you of the Vrishni race, that it does not die with men when its hour does not come.

Oh, at the time of his fall, what words did he give utterance to, addressing his mother? O lotus-eyed one, what did that darling of mine, having restless eyes, say to me?

I hope he has not been killed by eneinies while retreating from battle with his back towards them? I hope, O Govinda, that his face did not become cheerless while fighting?

He was possessed, O Krishna, of great energy. From a spirit of childishness, that powerful hero, boasting (of his prowess) in my presence, used to speak of his skill (in battle).

I hope that boy does not lie on the field, killed deceitfully by Drona and Karna and Kripa and others? Do you teli me this.

That son of my daughter always used to challenge Bhishma and that foremost of all powerful warriors, viz., Karna, in battle.

His father who, from excess of grief, bewailed thus, Govinda, more afflicted than he, answered in these words, His face did not become cheerless as he fought in the van of battle. Dreadful though that battle was, he diu not turn his back upon it.

Having killed hundreds and thousands of kings of Earth, he was distressed by Drona and Karna and at last was killed by the son of Dushasana.

If, O lord, he had been encountered, one to one, without intermission, he was incapable of being killed in battle by even the holder of the thunder-bolt.

When his father Arjuna was withdrawn from the main body by the Samsaptakas, Abhimanyu was surrounded by the enraged Kaurava-heroes headed by Drona in battle.

Then, O father, after he had killed a very large number of enemies in battle, your daughter's son at last succumbed to the son of Dushasana.

Forsooth, he has gone to the celestial region! Kill this grief of thine, O you of great intelligence! They who who are of purified understandings never languish when they meet with any calamity.

He by whom Drona and Karna and others were checked in battle, heroes who were equal to Indra himself in power, why would not he ascend to the celestial region.

O irresistible one, do you kill this grief of thine! Do not allow yourself to be swayed by anger. That conqueror of hostile cities has attained to that sanctified and which depends upon death at the edge of weapons.

After the fall of that hero, this my sister Subhadra, stricken with grief, bewailed aloud, when she saw Kunti, like a female as prey.

When she met Draupadi, she asked her in grief, O reverend lady, where are all our sons? I wish to see them.

Hearing her lamentations, all the Kauravaladies embraced her and wept sitting around her.

Seeing (her daughter-in-law) Uttara, she said, O blessed girl, where has your husband gone? when he returns, do you without losing a moment apprise me of it.

Alas, O daughter of Virata, as soon he heard my voice, he used to come out of his chamber without the loss of a moment. Why does not your husband come out today.

Alas, O Abhimanyu, your maternal uncles, powerful car-warriors, are all hale. They used to bless you when they saw you come here prepared to go out for battle.

Do you tell me the incidents of battle today as before, O chastiser of enemies. Oh, why do you not answer me today, me who am weeping so bitterly?

Hearing these lamentations of this daughter of the Vrishni-race, Pritha, deeply stricken with grief, addressed her and slowly said, O Subhadra, though protected by Vasudeva and Satyaki and by his own father, your youthful son has yet been killed. That slaughter is due to the influence of Time.

O daughter of Yadu's race, mortal your son was. Do not grieve. Irresistible in battle, your son has, forsooth, attained to the highest end.

You are born in a high family of great Kshatriyas. Do not grieve, O you of restless glances, O girl of eyes like lotus petals!

Do you cast your eyes on Uttara, who is quick with child. O blessed lady do not give way to grief. This auspicious girl will soon bring forth a son to that hero!

Having comforted her, thus, Kunti, knowing every duty, O perpetuator, of Yadu's race, casting off her grief, O irresistible one, made arrangements for Abhimanyu's obsequial rites, with the permission of king Yudhishthira and Bhima, and the twins (viz., Nakula and Sahadeva) who in prowess resembled Yama himself. She also made many presents to the Brahmanas, and bestowed upon them many kine, O perpetuator of Yadu's race. Then the Vrishni-dame (Kunti), comforted a little, addressed the daughter of Virata , saying, O faultless daughter of Virata, you should not grieve! For the sake of your husband, O you of round hips, protect the child in your womb.

Having said these words, O you of great splendour Kunti ceased. With her perinission I have brought Subhadra here.

It was thus, O giver of honours, that your daughter's son was killed. Cast off your burning grief, O irresistible one! Indeed, do not set your heart on sorrow. burning grief, O irresistible one! Indeed, do not set your heart on sorrow.