Maha-bharata Part 41

Like the fibre of the lotus tender-golden is her frame, O my lotus! O my daughter! Bharat's pride and Kuru's fame!

If the truth resides in _Vedas_, brave Duryodhan dwells above, Wherefore linger we in sadness severed from his cherished love?

If the truth resides in _Sastra_, dwells in sky my hero son, For Gandhari and her daughter now their earthly task is done!"

IV

Funeral Rite

Victor of a deathful battle, sad Yudhishthir viewed the plain, Friends and kinsmen, kings and chieftains, countless troops untimely slain,

And he spake to wise Sudharman, pious priest of Kuru's race, Unto Sanjay, unto Dhaumya, to Vidura full of grace,

Spake unto the brave Yuyutsu, Kuru's last surviving chief, Spake to faithful Indrasena, and to warriors sunk in grief:

"Pious rites are due to foemen and to friends and kinsmen slain, None shall lack a fitting funeral, none shall perish on the plain."

Wise Vidura and his comrades sped on sacred duty bound, Sandalwood and scented aloes, oil and _ghee_ and perfumes found,

Silken robes of costly splendour, fabrics by the artist wove, Dry wood from the th.o.r.n.y jungle, perfume from the scented grove,

Shattered cars and splintered lances, hewed and ready for the fire, Piled and ranged in perfect order into many a funeral pyre.

Kings and princes, n.o.ble warriors, were in rank and order laid, And with streams of melted b.u.t.ter were the rich libations made,

Blazed the fire with wondrous radiance by the rich libations fed, Sanctifying and consuming mortal remnants of the dead.

Brave Duryodhan and his brothers, Salya of the mighty car, Bhurisravas king of nations, Jayadratha famed in war,

Abhimanyu son of Arjun, Lakshman proud Duryodhan's son, Somadatta and the Srinjays famed for deeds of valour done,

Matsya's monarch proud Virata, Drupad fair Panchala's king, And his sons, Panchala's princes, whose great deeds the minstrels sing,

Cultured monarch of Kosala and Gandhara's wily lord, Karna, proud and peerless archer, matchless with his flaming sword,

Bhagadatta eastern monarch, all resistless in his car, Ghatotkacha son of Bhima, Alambusha famed in war,

And a hundred other monarchs all received the pious rite, Till the radiance of the fire-light chased the shadows of the night!

_Pitri-medha_, due to fathers, was performed with pious care, Hymns and wails and lamentations mingled in the midnight air,

Sacred songs of _rik_ and _saman_ rose with women's piercing wail, And the creatures of the wide earth heard the sound subdued and pale!

Smokeless and with radiant l.u.s.tre shone each red and lighted pyre, Like the planets of the bright sky throbbing with celestial fire!

Countless myriads, nameless, friendless, from each court and camp afar, From the east and west collected, fell in Kuru-Kshetra's war,

Thousand fires for them were lighted, they received the pious rite, Such was good Yudhishthir's mandate, such was wise Vidura's might,

All the dead were burned to ashes and the sacred rite was o'er, Dhrita-rashtra and Yudhishthir slowly walked to Ganga's sh.o.r.e!

V

Oblation to Karna

Sacred Ganga, ample-bosomed, sweeps along in regal pride, Rolling down her limpid waters through high banks on either side,

Kuru dames and weeping widows thither in their anguish came Due and holy rites to render to departed chiefs of fame,

Casting forth their jewelled girdles, gems and scarfs belaced with gold, Gave oblations of the water to each hero true and bold,

Unto fathers, unto husbands, unto sons in battle slayed, Offerings of the sacred water sorrowing wives and mothers made.

And so great the host of mourners wending to perform the rite, That their footsteps made a pathway in the sad and sacred site,

And the shelving banks of Ganga peopled by the sorrowing train, Wide-expanding, vast and sealike, formed a scene of woe and pain!

But a wave of keener sorrow swept o'er Pritha's heaving breast, As unto her weeping children thus her secret she expressed:

_"He, my sons, the peerless bowman, mighty in his battle-car, He who bore the stamp of hero, slain by Arjun in the war,_

_He whom as the son of Radha, chariot-driver, ye have thought, He who shone with SURYA'S l.u.s.tre as his countless foes he fought,_

_He who faced your stoutest warriors and in battle never failed, He who led the Kuru forces and in danger never quailed,_

_He who knew no peer in prowess, owned in war no haughtier name, He who yielded life, not honour, and by death hath conquered fame,_

_He, in truth who never faltered, never left his vow undone, Offer unto him oblation, Karna was my eldest son!_

_Karna was your honoured elder, and the Sun inspired his birth, Karna in his rings and armour Sun-like trod the s.p.a.cious earth!"_

Pritha spake, and terror-stricken Pandav brothers groaned in pain, And they wept in woe and anguish for the brother they had slain.

Hissing forth his sigh of sorrow like a trodden, hissing snake, Sad Yudhishthir to his mother thus his inward feelings spake:

"Didst thou, mother, bear the hero fathomless like ocean dread, Whose unfailing glistening arrows like its countless billows sped?

Didst thou bear that peerless archer, all-resistless in his car, Sweeping with the roar of ocean through the shattered ranks of war?

Didst thou bear the mighty hero, mortal man of heavenly birth, Crus.h.i.+ng 'neath his arm of valour all his foemen on the earth?

Didst thou hide the birth and lineage of that chief of deathful ire, As a man in folds of garments seeks to hide the flaming fire?

Arjun, wielder of _gandiva_, was for us no truer stay Than was Karna for the Kurus in the battle's dread array!

Monarchs matched not Karna's glory nor his deeds of valour done, Midst the mighty car-borne warriors mightiest warrior Karna shone!

Was he then our eldest brother we have in the battle slain, And our nearest dearest elder fell upon the gory plain?