Stri Parva

Hearing this exceedingly heart-rending news of the conclusion of this terrible great war of eighteen days and the death of all his hundred sons, the blind King Dhritarashtra broke down completely under deep grief and unbearable pain, and his very soul sank into a terrible lamentation.

Sanjaya, who had received from Maharishi Vyasa the duty of directly narrating this entire war through his divine sight, now began, with exceeding patience and compassion, to inform Dhritarashtra of this final, tragic outcome.

Vidura, to calm this unbearable grief of his elder brother Dhritarashtra's, began trying to explain to him, reminding him of that profound, eternal truth of life, death, and destiny, that this destruction had been the unavoidable result of Dhritarashtra's own attachment to his son and his many mistakes.

Dhritarashtra, amid this unbearable grief accumulated within him, along with a deep, hidden anger toward the Pandavas, in an exceedingly complex state of mind, decided to set out from Hastinapur toward the battlefield, along with all his family members.

Thus, after the conclusion of this terrible war, that exceedingly poignant, heart-rending chapter was now about to begin, in which all the women, gathering on the battlefield, would lament the death of their loved ones.

Yudhishthira and the other Pandavas, to meet their elder, blind uncle Dhritarashtra and receive his blessing, presented themselves before him with exceeding humility and respect, not knowing how deep an anger still lay hidden in Dhritarashtra's heart.

Krishna, with his extraordinary foresight, had already sensed this hidden anger of Dhritarashtra's and its possible danger, and gave Bhima the secret counsel to remain exceedingly vigilant, even before going before Dhritarashtra.

When Dhritarashtra, learning that Bhima had come before him, stepped forward to embrace him, Krishna, employing exceedingly swift wisdom, had a vast iron statue of Bhima presented before Dhritarashtra in place of the real Bhima.

Dhritarashtra, in the excess of that unbearable grief and anger accumulated within him, using his extraordinary strength, gripped that iron statue in his arms with such force that the statue itself was crushed and scattered into pieces, and Dhritarashtra himself began vomiting blood from this excess.

After this event, that accumulated anger of Dhritarashtra's was fully calmed, and, exceedingly ashamed, he began experiencing deep remorse over this momentary, destructive thought, and he affectionately embraced the real Bhima, granting him his blessing along with an apology.

After this event, Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, Kunti, and all the other women of Hastinapur set out with exceedingly heavy hearts toward that terrible battlefield of Kurukshetra, to see the bodies of their loved ones one last time and to duly perform their final rites.

That vast battlefield of Kurukshetra, which, after this terrible slaughter that had lasted eighteen days, presented an exceedingly poignant, tragic sight with the bodies of countless heroes, broken chariots, and blood-soaked ground, appeared before these women.

Gandhari, seeing the bodies of all her hundred sons and her many grandsons scattered in this manner, broke down completely under deep grief and unbearable pain, and her poignant wailing echoed throughout the entire battlefield.

Kunti too, seeing the bodies of Karna and her other many kinsmen, sank into deep grief, though in her heart there was a special, secret anguish for Karna, which she was still hiding from her sons.

Thus, that terrible battlefield of the entire Kurukshetra, instead of the joy of victory, now echoed with this exceedingly poignant, heart-rending lament of the women, which was revealing to the entire world the true, immense cost of this war.

Gandhari, standing amid the bodies of all her hundred sons, calling out their names one by one, began an exceedingly poignant, heart-rending lament, remembering how she had raised all of them with her own maternal love.

Gandhari expressed especially deep grief over Duryodhana's terrible, humiliating end, and over Dushasana's exceedingly cruel death, asking again and again why this maternal love of hers had proven unable to stop such terrible destruction.

Yudhishthira and the other Pandavas, seeing this unbearable grief of Gandhari's, presented themselves before her with exceeding humility and shame, knowing that it was at their own hands that all of Gandhari's sons had met this end.

Gandhari, even amid this unbearable grief and anger within her, by the power of her divine penance and self-restraint, restraining herself from any improper act, continued to express this immense pain of hers only through her tears and lamentation.

This scene is forever remembered as one of the most poignant, touching events of the entire Mahabharata, in which a mother's love and her unbearable grief proved far deeper than all the questions of victory and defeat in war.

In the midst of this, Kunti, exceedingly distressed by the burden of that secret she had hidden in her heart for years, finally decided to reveal, before her sons — Yudhishthira, Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva — an exceedingly shocking, heart-rending truth.

Kunti, with an exceedingly heavy heart and tear-filled eyes, told her sons that Karna, whom they had killed in this war believing him their bitter enemy, was in truth their own eldest, firstborn child, whom she had borne, before her marriage, through a boon from the Sun-god.

Hearing this, the five Pandavas, especially Yudhishthira, broke down under exceedingly deep shock and unbearable grief, learning that they had unknowingly brought about the end of their own eldest brother, whom they had known all their lives only as an enemy.

Yudhishthira, sinking into deep anger and grief over this unbearable truth, began rebuking his mother Kunti in exceedingly harsh words, asking that if this truth had been revealed earlier, this terrible fratricidal war might perhaps never have occurred at all.

Yudhishthira, in the excess of this unbearable anger and grief, cursed the entire female sex that they would now never be able to keep any secret hidden in their hearts for long — this curse later came to be forever remembered as a characteristic of feminine nature.

Draupadi, who had lost her five sons, her father Drupada, and her brother Dhrishtadyumna in this war too, sank into deep grief and unbearable pain, seeing the bodies of all these loved ones of hers on this battlefield.

Uttara, Abhimanyu's young wife, before that exceedingly terrible body of her husband's, who had attained a hero's death within the Chakravyuha, began an exceedingly poignant lament along with the child growing in her womb, asking how her child would now grow up without a father.

Many other women of the Kaurava side, lamenting exceedingly poignantly over this terrible slaughter of their husbands, sons, and brothers, continued wandering here and there across the entire battlefield — this sight was enough to melt even the hardest of hearts.

Thus, that battlefield of the entire Kurukshetra became covered with this immense, collective grief and lamentation of the women of both sides, which clearly proved that in war, no side is truly victorious — only the proportion of loss differs.

Yudhishthira and the other Pandavas, seeing this unbearable grief of all these women, began experiencing deep self-reflection and remorse, asking again and again in their hearts whether this victory had truly been worth such an immense cost.

Gandhari, sunk in deep grief and unbearable anger over this terrible loss of all her hundred sons, finally presented herself before Krishna himself, and began asking him exceedingly sharp, poignant questions.

Gandhari asked Krishna that when he himself was God incarnate, and possessed the full ability to stop this entire terrible destruction, why had he not stopped this terrible loss of so many countless innocent lives, and why had he let this ruinous war occur at all.

Krishna, listening to this unbearable grief and anger of Gandhari's with exceeding gravity and compassion, tried to explain to her, in an exceedingly calm voice, that this war had been the unavoidable, natural result of the countless unrighteous acts of Duryodhana and the Kauravas themselves.

Gandhari, not satisfied with this answer of Krishna's, in the excess of this unbearable grief and anger within her, finally decided to give Krishna himself an exceedingly grave, far-reaching curse.

Gandhari declared that just as she had seen this terrible destruction of her entire lineage with her own eyes, so too would Krishna, in the coming thirty-six years, see the mutual destruction of his own entire Yadu dynasty with his own eyes.

Krishna, hearing this exceedingly grave, far-reaching curse of Gandhari's, without the slightest disturbance or anger, with an exceedingly calm smile, accepted this curse with complete humility, saying that this curse was, in truth, unnecessary.

Krishna revealed to Gandhari the profound secret that he himself well knew that this mutual destruction of the Yadu dynasty, after the fulfillment of the purpose of his own descent upon this earth, was itself an unavoidable, pre-ordained event.

Krishna also made clear that this curse of Gandhari's was not, in truth, giving rise to any new event, but was merely granting sanction to that very event which had already been determined by destiny.

Gandhari, seeing this wondrous, divine calm of Krishna's and his profound acceptance, was somewhat stunned and calmed, though that deep grief over the loss of her sons still remained in her heart.

This event gave the profound teaching that true divinity is not frightened by any curse or anger, but rather absorbs every decree of destiny within itself with complete calm and acceptance.

After the conclusion of this terrible war, on Yudhishthira's order, a vast, exceedingly grave process began for the proper, prompt performance of the final rites for the bodies of the countless heroes lying on that battlefield of Kurukshetra.

Bhishma, Dronacharya, Karna, Duryodhana and his remaining brothers, and all the principal warriors of both sides, were given proper funeral rites in accordance with their dignity and honor, and the proper tarpan rites were also performed for them.

Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, Kunti, and all the other women, going to the banks of the Ganga, offered water-tarpan to their respective loved ones — this was an exceedingly poignant, grave sight, in which both the victorious and the defeated sides appeared equally grief-stricken.

Kunti, on this occasion, offered tarpan specially for Karna as well, and Yudhishthira, in honor of this eldest brother of his, arranged for his final rites to be performed with full royal honor as well.

Thus, after this exceedingly terrible, long great war, this grave process of finally granting proper honor and peace to all the departed souls was completed, which began setting the backdrop for that new, challenging journey to come.

After the conclusion of this terrible war, and the final rites for all the dead warriors, Yudhishthira and all the Pandavas, even amid this extraordinary victory, remained sunk in an exceedingly complex state of deep grief and self-reflection.

That curse of Gandhari's, which she had given Krishna, now began to hang over the future of the entire Yadu dynasty as an exceedingly deep, inauspicious shadow, though on this matter, until now, only Krishna himself well understood its true, unavoidable nature.

That secret truth of Karna's revealed by Kunti left such a deep, lasting wound on Yudhishthira's heart that, even in the years to come, it continued to cause him deep pain and self-reproach again and again in his mind.

The whole of Hastinapur and Kurukshetra, after this terrible war, awaited a new, uncertain but necessary beginning, in which Yudhishthira now had to himself take up the responsibility of this vast, war-torn empire.

Thus the Stri Parva reaches its conclusion with the women's immense, collective lament, Kunti's secret revelation, Gandhari's curse, and the final rites for all the dead. In the next parva, the Shanti Parva, the story of Yudhishthira's coronation and Bhishma's vast, profound discourse will be told.