Udyoga Parva

Amid the grandeur of Abhimanyu and Uttara's wedding ceremony itself, all the allied kings gathered at Viratanagar, along with Krishna, Balarama, King Drupada, and Yudhishthira's counselors, held an exceedingly grave political assembly to decide what path the Pandavas should now take, after the completion of their year of hiding, to reclaim their rightful kingdom.

Krishna, addressing the assembly, made clear that although war should always be the last, unavoidable option, given Duryodhana's nature and his unbreakable arrogance, it was exceedingly likely that he would never agree to peacefully return the kingdom — and so full preparation for war should also begin simultaneously.

King Drupada suggested that, rather than making a hasty decision in this exceedingly important, sensitive time, a trustworthy, experienced envoy should first be sent to Hastinapur, to present before Dhritarashtra and Bhishma the Pandavas' just, clear claim that now, with the entire period of hiding complete, their kingdom should be returned to them without delay.

Yudhishthira, true to his natural disposition, was most eager for this peaceful path. He still sincerely wished that, if possible, this dispute could be resolved on the basis of justice and dharma alone, without war and bloodshed, however much patience and restraint it might require.

The assembly finally reached the unanimous decision that King Drupada's own priest be sent to Hastinapur for this exceedingly important, first act of envoyship. It was also decided that both sides should at once begin requesting military support from their allied kingdoms, so that if the peace talks failed, there would be no delay in preparing for war.

King Drupada's elderly, exceedingly learned priest arrived at the royal court of Hastinapur, and presented before Bhishma, Dhritarashtra, Dronacharya, and Vidura, along with all the members of the assembly, the Pandavas' clear, just message — that the entire thirteen-year period, including both exile and hiding, was now fully and indisputably complete, and so their kingdom of Indraprastha should be returned to them without delay.

The priest, in an exceedingly grave but respectful tone, also made clear that the Pandavas, despite their extraordinary strength, still gave the highest priority to a peaceful resolution rather than war — but that if this just claim of theirs was rejected, they would not hesitate to fight to protect their right.

Grandsire Bhishma, answering this message, accepted the Pandavas' claim as entirely just and proper, and clearly advised Dhritarashtra that peacefully returning the kingdom was the best path for the dignity and long-term welfare of the Kuru dynasty.

But Karna, who was present in that assembly, denounced this message with exceeding insolence, arguing that the Pandavas had in truth revealed their identity before the period of hiding was complete (in the war at Virata), and so their claim itself was invalid, and they should have to undergo another twelve years of exile.

Dhritarashtra, sunk in his affection for his son, and under Duryodhana's constant pressure, could give no clear, decisive answer to this exceedingly important question. He said only that he would consider the matter further, and would soon send an envoy of his own to the Pandavas — this very uncertainty became the complex backdrop for all the events to follow.

Dhritarashtra, under pressure from Bhishma and Vidura, sent his trusted charioteer and minister Sanjaya to Upaplavya (where the Pandavas were now residing along with the armies of their allied kings), instructing him to meet Yudhishthira and hold a deep discussion on the possibilities of peace, though his own message was itself vague and inconclusive.

Sanjaya, arriving at Upaplavya, delivered Dhritarashtra's message before Yudhishthira and all the assembled Pandavas and allied kings — a message that warned of the terrible, ruinous consequences of war, but gave no clear, concrete assurance of returning the kingdom. It seemed, in a way, merely a diplomatic maneuver to buy time.

Yudhishthira, with great patience and dignity, answered this vague message. He again made clear that he himself never desired war, and that if his just kingdom, even if only five villages, were returned to him with honor, he would be fully content and ready to establish peace.

Bhimasena and the other Pandavas continued to express some dissatisfaction with this exceedingly humble, conciliatory proposal, believing that after so many years of insult and injustice, showing such extreme humility was improper — but Yudhishthira, maintaining his patience and devotion to justice, made clear that the path of peace remained best until the very last effort.

Sanjaya, having directly observed Yudhishthira's answer and the Pandavas' entire military preparation and the presence of the allied kings, returned to Hastinapur with a heavy heart, understanding well that the coming conflict now seemed almost unavoidable, unless some extraordinary, decisive intervention occurred.

On Sanjaya's return, and hearing the detailed account of the Pandavas' extraordinary military preparation and their just claim, Dhritarashtra grew so deeply anxious and so filled with the fear of impending ruin that he could not sleep at all that night, tossing and turning constantly in fear of the destruction to come.

Tormented by this unbearable sleeplessness and mental agitation, Dhritarashtra summoned his exceedingly wise, righteous brother Vidura in the middle of the night, and asked him for some profound knowledge or counsel that might calm his mind, so that he could make the right decision.

It was on this very occasion that Vidura began giving Dhritarashtra that extraordinary, profound teaching that would later become eternally famous as "Vidura-niti." He presented exceedingly deep, practical knowledge on the duties of a king, the recognition of a true friend and enemy, the marks of wisdom and folly, and the responsibilities of a ruler.

Vidura explained with special emphasis that a person who ignores the true, harsh counsel of his own well-wishers, and listens only to the sweet but ruinous words of flatterers, ultimately becomes the cause of his own downfall. He warned Dhritarashtra in clear, fearless words that Duryodhana's arrogance was leading the entire Kuru dynasty toward great destruction.

He also gave the profound teaching that a true king is one who can make decisions on the basis of justice and truth even between his own son and his enemy, and that supporting adharma out of paternal affection is itself a grave sin. This teaching touched Dhritarashtra's heart deeply, but his final power of decision still remained subject to his affection for his son.

Continuing this profound teaching, Vidura also explained to Dhritarashtra that six qualities are essential for the stability and prosperity of any kingdom — truth, charity, diligence (hard work), freedom from malice, forgiveness, and austerity — and that a ruler who neglects any of these ultimately leads his kingdom toward ruin.

He explained, through exceedingly poignant examples, how a good ruler does not hesitate to recognize even his enemy's praiseworthy qualities, and accepts even his own son's faults without fear — this very impartiality is the foundation of true rajadharma.

Through a highly famous metaphor, Vidura also explained that the world is like a vast tree whose roots, if sunk in adharma and greed, will doom it to fall, however green it may appear from above — and in just this way, Duryodhana's arrogance was hollowing out the very roots of this vast tree that was the Kuru dynasty.

He gave Dhritarashtra this final, exceedingly grave advice — that while there was still time, he should restrain Duryodhana, and by returning to the Pandavas their just kingdom, save the entire Bharata dynasty from an unavoidable, ruinous great war. This was the last opportunity, one that might soon slip away forever.

Dhritarashtra, hearing this entire, profound teaching of Vidura, sank for a moment into deep self-reflection, and even admitted that every word of Vidura's was entirely true and proper — but the moment Duryodhana appeared before him again the next morning, this momentary wisdom dissolved once more into that same old weakness of paternal affection.

Dhritarashtra, still finding no complete peace of mind even after hearing Vidura-niti, asked Vidura whether there was some even deeper, spiritual remedy that could fully calm his unbearable agitation. Vidura, mentioning certain limits on some spiritual matters owing to his own birth in a lower station, recalled Maharishi Sanatsujata.

Sanatsujata, who was regarded as one of the eternal, mind-born sons of Brahma, appeared before Dhritarashtra at Vidura's invocation, and gave Dhritarashtra an exceedingly profound, philosophical teaching on life, death, the eternal nature of the soul, and the true nature of ignorance — a teaching that later became famous as the "Sanatsujatiya."

He explained to Dhritarashtra the profound truth that death is in truth not some external power, but that pramada (self-forgetfulness) and ignorance dwelling within man himself are the true death, and that a person who remains constantly aware of self-knowledge and truth attains true immortality in the real sense.

Sanatsujata also made clear that worldly victory and defeat are both, in the end, fleeting, and that a ruler who, without understanding this eternal truth, sets out to destroy his own family merely in pursuit of momentary worldly victory, is in truth a victim of his own ignorance.

This profound, exceedingly subtle spiritual teaching did calm Dhritarashtra's mind for a time, but it proved unable to change his fundamental decision, for his true agitation had arisen not from spiritual ignorance, but from his blind, uncontrolled attachment to his son — something no philosophical teaching could fully remove.

At Upaplavya, after Sanjaya's return, and while awaiting some clear, positive answer from Hastinapur, Yudhishthira held deep deliberation with all his brothers and allied kings on how to proceed further. Most of those present, though accepting the inevitability of war, still favored one final, decisive effort for peace.

In this grave situation, Krishna himself put forward the exceedingly bold, important proposal that he himself would go to Hastinapur in person as the Pandavas' envoy, and make a final, supreme effort for peace directly before Dhritarashtra and Duryodhana — even knowing that this journey could itself prove exceedingly risky for him.

Yudhishthira and the other Pandavas, expressing deep concern over this proposal, tried to stop Krishna from going alone into the enemy's stronghold in this manner, fearing that a cunning man like Duryodhana would not hesitate at any improper, treacherous conduct toward him.

Krishna, with great confidence and a calm smile, assured them that he was fully aware of every possible danger of this journey, and that he accepted it, for even if this final effort failed, it would at least stand forever proven in history that the Pandavas had made every possible effort for peace with complete seriousness and sincerity.

Thus, with the agreement and blessing of the entire assembly, Krishna took upon his own shoulders the responsibility of going to Hastinapur himself, for this final, supreme effort to avert this terrible, seemingly unavoidable great war — a decision that was itself the supreme proof of his extraordinary courage and devotion to duty.

Before Krishna's departure for Hastinapur, many inauspicious omens appeared, seeing which the sages and astrologers present grew deeply worried, prophesying that the events to come would prove exceedingly terrible and possibly ruinous — but Krishna, not the least disturbed by these signs, moved forward firmly on his chosen path.

Draupadi, recalling the deep anguish of her heart and the unbearable humiliation she had suffered before the full assembly, tearfully requested Krishna to make sure her humiliation was properly mentioned in Hastinapur, and to ensure that this injustice never went unanswered. Krishna, with great affection, assured her that her humiliation would never go in vain.

Krishna, mounted on his magnificent chariot, set out toward Hastinapur along with some chosen Yadava heroes and attendants. Along the way, many villagers and townspeople thronged to catch sight of him, believing that the Lord's own journey was being undertaken for some great, benevolent purpose.

On the way, he also met the sage Maitreya, who gave Duryodhana the grave counsel to make peace with the Pandavas. When Duryodhana mocked this counsel too, Maitreya, angered, cursed him that Bhima would soon shatter his thigh with his mace — a prophecy that would later prove true.

In Hastinapur, on learning of Krishna's arrival, Dhritarashtra ordered a grand welcome to be prepared for him, and attempted to present him with precious gifts and hospitality — but Krishna, with great humility, declined all these royal gifts, making clear that he had come here not for any personal gain, but only to establish dharma and peace.

In Hastinapur, Krishna decided to stay not at the royal guest-house, but at the simple, righteous home of his close, trusted friend Vidura — a clear, symbolic sign on his part that he stood with true dharma and integrity, rather than with Duryodhana's ostentatious hospitality.

Vidura secretly gave Krishna the grave warning that Duryodhana and some of his cunning advisors were secretly plotting that, if the peace talks failed, they would forcibly take Krishna himself captive, believing that his capture would completely break the Pandavas' morale.

Krishna, hearing of this terrible, treacherous plan, was not the least bit frightened or disturbed. With a perfectly calm smile, he answered that Duryodhana had not the slightest idea of the consequences of this audacity, and that he himself was fully capable of going to that very assembly and displaying his true power to whatever extent necessary.

When Bhishma and Dronacharya too became aware of this cunning, utterly improper plan, they went at once to Duryodhana and sternly warned him that such treacherous conduct toward a respected guest and envoy like Krishna was not only utterly unrighteous, but would also prove exceedingly ruinous for the entire Kuru dynasty.

Duryodhana, before this stern opposition from his elder grandsire and guru, did not find the courage to openly carry this plan forward — but this cunning thought continued to smolder within him, one that would set the backdrop for an exceedingly dramatic, unexpected turn in the royal court the very next day.

The next day, in the grand royal court of Hastinapur, in the presence of Dhritarashtra, Bhishma, Dronacharya, Kripacharya, Vidura, all the Kaurava princes, and other invited kings, Krishna, in an exceedingly grave, dignified voice, presented the Pandavas' final, clear proposal for peace.

In an exceedingly logical, patient manner, he described in detail all the injustices done to the Pandavas — the deceit of the game of dice, Draupadi's grave humiliation, and the unjust thirteen-year exile — and made clear that even after such unbearable injustice, the Pandavas still gave priority to peace over war.

Krishna put forward this final, exceedingly generous proposal — that if Duryodhana was unable or unwilling to return the entire kingdom, he should at least grant the Pandavas just five villages — one for each brother — so that they could live out their lives with honor, and the entire Bharata dynasty could be spared a terrible, ruinous war.

Hearing this proposal, Bhishma, Dronacharya, and Vidura, along with many other elder, wise members of the assembly, began openly advising Duryodhana to accept this exceedingly just and generous proposal, making clear that such a small sacrifice was an exceedingly cheap price to pay to avert the destruction of the entire dynasty.

But Duryodhana, so blinded by his arrogance and deep jealousy, began to see even this exceedingly just, humble proposal as an insult to himself, and, ignoring the clear advice of everyone present in the assembly, rose to his feet, seething with anger, preparing his final, insolent answer.

Duryodhana, before the entire assembly, in a voice filled with exceeding insolence and arrogance, made the historic, infamous declaration — that he would never give the Pandavas even as much land as the point of a needle, without war. This statement would later become forever inscribed in history as the most lasting, symbolic proof of his arrogance.

He also accused Krishna of improperly intervening in this assembly out of partiality toward the Pandavas, and also said that he did not consider himself bound to bow before the Pandavas under any circumstances, even if it meant the destruction of the entire Kuru dynasty.

Krishna, without the slightest loss of his gravity at this arrogant, utterly improper answer of Duryodhana's, gave him one final, profound warning — that his arrogance and injustice would ultimately bring about the destruction of himself and his entire lineage, and that this destruction would be the result of his own foolish obstinacy, not of any aggression by the Pandavas.

At this very moment, reaching the peak of his arrogance, and declaring Krishna's entire mission of envoyship a complete failure, Duryodhana, along with a few of his trusted allies, finally found the audacity to carry out that very cunning, treacherous plan against which Vidura had already warned — he ordered Krishna to be forcibly taken captive.

Seeing this, a wave of fear and shock swept through the entire assembly. Bhishma, Drona, and Vidura, along with all the eminent men present, tried to stop this unprecedented, utterly unrighteous act — but at this very moment, Krishna himself began that extraordinary, miraculous display of his true, boundless power that was to stun this entire assembly forever.

The moment Duryodhana's soldiers advanced to take Krishna captive, Krishna, with perfect calm, rose from his seat, and began revealing that boundless, divine power of his that lay entirely beyond ordinary human sight and imagination — an unbearable, intense radiance began bursting forth from his body.

In an instant, the entire assembly beheld this wondrous, astonishing sight — countless gods, Brahma, Shiva, Indra, all the guardians of the directions, and their various divine weapons, began appearing from Krishna's body. This was his same wondrous "Vishwarupa" (universal form), which held within itself the entirety of creation, all the worlds, and all beings.

Beholding this extraordinary, terrifying yet divine sight, the entire assembly, frozen in fear and astonishment, was forced to close their eyes or look away — only a few specially blessed with divine sight — Bhishma, Drona, Vidura, and Sanjaya — could behold this entire, extraordinary sight in full.

Duryodhana and his companions, seeing this unprecedented, terrifying display of power, retreated in great fear. Their entire plan of capture, in this single instant, proved utterly futile and laughable, and it became clear that the one they had dared to capture was in truth the very Supreme God, the origin of creation itself.

After this extraordinary vision, Krishna resumed his ordinary, human form, and, without another word, moved to leave the assembly, making clear that he had completed his mission as envoy with full seriousness and patience, and that the decision now rested entirely in Duryodhana's hands, along with its consequences.

Just before departing from Hastinapur, Krishna, as one final, exceedingly important effort, invited Karna onto his chariot, and taking him some distance outside the city, began an exceedingly secret, heartfelt conversation that could change the whole of Karna's life.

Krishna revealed to Karna the profound, until now entirely secret truth — that he was in truth not the son of a suta, but Kunti's own eldest son, received from the Sun-god, and that he was thus in truth the very eldest, full brother of Yudhishthira, Bhima, and Arjuna, and so had no real need to stand on Duryodhana's side in this unlawful, unjust war.

Krishna also put forward the extraordinary proposal that if Karna came over to the Pandavas' side, he would not only be reunited with his brothers, but, on the basis of his seniority, could himself become the universal emperor of Hastinapur — Yudhishthira himself would gladly accept his seniority, and the entire Pandava family, including Draupadi, would honor him as the supreme member of their family.

Hearing this extraordinary, life-changing truth, Karna sank into deep shock and emotional turmoil. He admitted that he had not been fully aware of this entire truth, and, learning that he was in truth a Kshatriya prince, and the very eldest brother of the Pandavas himself, a deep anguish and self-reflection arose within his heart.

In this emotional moment, Karna faced an extraordinary, most difficult decision — to accept his true, blood-related identity and boundless royal honor, or to maintain his long-standing, unwavering loyalty to his adoptive father's family and his childhood friend Duryodhana. This decision would be revealed in the chapter to come.

Karna, after deep inner turmoil, presented his final answer before Krishna in an exceedingly grave, emotional but firm voice. He gratefully acknowledged that this proposal was extraordinarily generous and attractive, but that he found himself unable to accept it.

He explained that he honored his adoptive parents, Adhiratha and Radha, as his true parents, who had adopted and raised him when his birth mother had abandoned him out of fear of social disgrace, and that he could never forget this debt of upbringing.

In exceedingly poignant words, he also made clear that Duryodhana, who had honored him on the very day the whole world had mocked him, who had protected his dignity by making him king of Anga — his loyalty and gratitude toward him were worth far more than any worldly throne or family bond.

Karna also requested Krishna to keep this entire conversation, and his true identity, completely secret until he himself thought it proper, for if Yudhishthira learned that Karna was the very eldest Pandava, he might himself offer to renounce the kingdom and hand it over to him, which would needlessly complicate the entire dynamics of the war.

Krishna, deeply moved by Karna's extraordinary sacrifice, gratitude, and loyalty, honored this firmness of his and accepted his final request, and, with a heavy heart, also acknowledged that Karna's decision, however sorrowful, was itself proof of his own extraordinary excellence of character.

After Krishna's departure from Hastinapur, Kunti herself, driven by the deep anguish and guilt in her heart, appeared secretly before Karna on the banks of the Ganga, where he performed his daily morning worship of the Sun-god — this was to be one of the most difficult, most emotional moments of her entire life.

Kunti, no longer able to bear this deep secret and guilt she had hidden for so long, revealed herself before Karna as his birth mother, and, with tear-filled eyes, begging his forgiveness, requested that he join his brothers on the Pandavas' side.

Karna, deeply hurt and disturbed by his mother's unexpected, emotional revelation, reminded Kunti, in exceedingly harsh but just words, that she had abandoned him immediately after his birth, and that today, only because she was worried about the safety of her other sons, she had come to accept him as her son.

In exceedingly poignant words, he also said that had Kunti accepted him at the time of his birth, his entire life today would have been different — but now, after so many years of humiliation, struggle, and ingratitude, he considered it against his own honor and self-respect to abandon his present identity and Duryodhana's loyalty toward him, and go over to the Pandavas' side.

Yet, showing deep compassion and respect toward his mother, Karna gave an extraordinary promise — that in the war he would not end the lives of Yudhishthira, Bhima, Nakula, or Sahadeva; he would fight only against Arjuna, and at the end of the war, Kunti would always have five sons remaining — whether it be he himself or Arjuna who survived. This promise was a final, poignant proof of the deep, inherent compassion in his heart.

After this final, decisive failure of Krishna's peace mission, and with clear proof of Duryodhana's unbreakable, obstinate arrogance, war had now become entirely unavoidable. Both sides now began, with complete seriousness and urgency, the work of gathering their respective armies.

On the Pandavas' side, Drupada, Virata, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, Satyaki (who was a supreme devotee of Krishna), the princes of the Kekaya country, and many other powerful allied kings joined with their respective armies. Altogether, the Pandavas' army expanded to seven akshauhinis (a vast, well-organized military unit).

On the Kauravas' side, the armies of Bhishma, Drona, Karna, Kripacharya, Ashwatthama, Shalya (who, though the maternal uncle of Nakula and Sahadeva, joined the Kauravas' side through deceit), Bhagadatta, and countless other powerful kings gathered. This vast Kaurava army expanded to eleven akshauhinis, larger even than the Pandavas'.

In an exceedingly interesting, important event, Krishna himself gave both Arjuna and Duryodhana the choice — that they could either take his vast, powerful Narayani army, or Krishna himself, who would not take up arms in the war, only as charioteer and advisor. Arjuna, with great wisdom, chose Krishna himself, while Duryodhana joyfully took his vast army.

During this same period, Balarama, out of his equal affection for both sides, decided to remain entirely neutral in this war, and set out on a pilgrimage — a decision that was itself another poignant proof of the deep tragedy and complexity of this terrible family conflict.

With the entire preparation for war complete, Duryodhana first requested his grandsire Bhishma for the post of commander of the Kaurava army, knowing that his experience, skill, and dignity were exceedingly necessary for the morale of the entire army. Bhishma accepted this request, but with an exceedingly important, poignant condition.

Bhishma made clear that, out of his deep affection for the Pandavas, and out of his own reverence for their devotion to truth and righteousness, he would never end their lives directly — but he promised to slay ten thousand warriors every day, and that as long as he himself remained fighting, the Kaurava army could not be defeated.

He also set one profound, important condition — that if Karna remained present on the battlefield, he himself would not fight, for a deep, personal difference and sense of rivalry had long existed between Bhishma and Karna. Karna, honoring this request of the grandfather-like Bhishma, decided to abstain from the war for as long as Bhishma himself remained fighting.

Duryodhana, though somewhat dissatisfied with this condition, was nevertheless forced to accept it, understanding the importance of Bhishma's experience and dignity. Thus Bhishma was formally declared the first commander of the Kaurava army — a post he accepted with an exceedingly heavy, divided heart, knowing that he was going to fight against his own beloved grandsons.

Bhishma also secretly sent word to Yudhishthira that, bound by duty, he would certainly fight on the Kauravas' side, but that if the Pandavas asked him the means of his own death, he would gladly reveal it — this extraordinary, contradictory promise reveals the deep dilemma in Bhishma's heart, in which duty and affection were in constant conflict.

Amid the final preparations for war, Bhishma, at Duryodhana's request, presented a detailed, well-organized count of all the principal warriors present on both sides, according to their capability, into the categories of atirathi (those who alone could fight as if they were countless charioteers), maharathi, and rathi — an exceedingly important strategic analysis.

In this count, Bhishma placed himself, Dronacharya, and Kripacharya in the atirathi category, and, acknowledging Arjuna's extraordinary capability, included him too in this supreme category, also mentioning that Arjuna alone was capable of facing the combined armies of all three worlds.

Regarding Karna's capability, Bhishma made some controversial, harsh remarks, saying that Karna, despite his extraordinary generosity and valor, belonged only to the category of half a rathi, since his Vasavi Shakti would be spent after a single use, and his impenetrable armor had already been given away in charity to Indra earlier — this remark deeply wounded Karna, and out of vengeance he took the vow that he would not fight as long as Bhishma remained in battle.

In this same count, a detailed, honorable list was also presented of many extraordinary warriors on the Pandavas' side, including Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, Abhimanyu, and Draupadi's five sons (the Upapandavas) — this count presented a clear, realistic picture of the true military strength and possibilities of both sides.

This detailed count made clear that, though the Kaurava side might appear more powerful in numbers, the extraordinary, unique warriors present on the Pandavas' side, and Krishna's own presence, would make the outcome of the coming war exceedingly uncertain and thrilling.

During this same period, Bhishma reminded Yudhishthira and the other Pandavas of an exceedingly profound, ancient story that was to prove exceedingly important in the coming war — the story of Amba, princess of Kashi, whom Bhishma had abducted years ago for his brother Vichitravirya's marriage, but had later, at her request, allowed to go to Shalva, her chosen suitor.

After being rejected by Shalva, Amba, holding Bhishma alone responsible for this humiliation and unbearable misfortune, began burning with an intense fire of vengeance. She requested many kings to fight against Bhishma, but none showed the courage to fight him — even Parashurama himself could not defeat Bhishma.

Finally, Amba performed exceedingly severe penance to Lord Shiva, and obtained from him the boon that in her next life she would become the cause of Bhishma's death. Having obtained this boon, she entered fire and gave up her life, and in her next birth was born as Shikhandini, daughter of King Drupada.

In a strange, divine turn of events, Shikhandini later obtained a male form through the boon of a Yaksha, and became known as "Shikhandi," a male warrior. Bhishma made clear to the Pandavas that he would never raise weapons against any woman, or anyone who had previously been a woman — and so Shikhandi could take advantage of this very vow of his and stand fearlessly before him in battle.

This profound secret was later to prove the key to Bhishma's final downfall. This story also reveals the profound truth that however long and complex the wheels of destiny may be, they ultimately arrive at their appointed, unavoidable outcome.

Just before the war began, Shakuni's son Uluka was sent to the Pandavas' camp with one final, exceedingly insolent and mocking message from Duryodhana. In this message, Duryodhana again declared that he was fully ready for war, and, reminding the Pandavas of all their past weaknesses and humiliations, attempted to provoke them.

Bhimasena, hearing this insulting message, giving full vent to his pent-up anger, sent back through Uluka a clear, terrible reply to Duryodhana — that he would soon shatter his thigh with his mace on the battlefield, and drink Dushasana's blood; this vow had been taken years ago at the time of Draupadi's humiliation, and the time to fulfill it had now drawn near.

Arjuna too sent his own message, making clear that he was fully ready to face all the Kaurava warriors, including Karna, and that this decision for war was now final and irreversible. Thus, even the slightest possibility of any final peace between the two sides was forever extinguished.

Yudhishthira too, with his natural gravity and regret, sent the message that he had made every possible effort for peace, but that now, with war having become unavoidable, he would descend upon the battlefield with full firmness to protect dharma and justice, and that the outcome of this war would in the end ensure the victory of dharma itself.

Thus, the armies of both sides, completing their final preparations, began advancing toward that sacred, historic field of Kurukshetra, where, over the eighteen days to come, the most terrible, most important war in the history of the world was to be fought.

The vast armies of both sides, with their countless chariots, royal elephants, cavalry, and infantry, began slowly advancing toward that vast, level plain of Kurukshetra — this was the very sacred land that had been revered since ancient times as a land of dharma and sacrifice, now to become witness to history's most terrible war.

Yudhishthira, leading his entire army, still cherished, one last time, the deep hope that some miraculous solution might yet appear even at the final moment — but seeing Duryodhana's unbreakable arrogance, he knew well that this hope had now grown exceedingly faint.

Krishna, as Arjuna's charioteer, along with the rest of the Pandavas and their vast allied army, joined this final journey toward Kurukshetra — his calm, confident presence was itself the greatest support and assurance for the entire Pandava army.

Both armies, arriving at the field of Kurukshetra, established their vast camps facing each other in opposite directions. The gleam of weapons, the neighing of horses, and the roar of countless warriors filled the entire atmosphere with the gravity of a terrible, imminent conflict.

Thus, the Udyoga Parva reaches its conclusion with the final, sorrowful failure of all efforts for peace, and with the complete preparation for that unavoidable, terrible great war — which will now be described in detail in the coming Bhishma Parva, beginning with the immortal teaching of the Shrimad Bhagavad Gita itself.