गृहीत्वा तत् तु गच्छन्ति समुद्रौ पूर्वदक्षिणौ ॥
तथैव पश्चिमं यान्ति गृहीत्वा भरतर्षभ ॥
उत्तरं तु न गच्छन्ति विना तात पतत्रिभिः ॥
इदं चाद्भुतम् अत्रासीत् तन् मे निगदतः शृणु ॥
पूर्णे शतसहस्रे तु विप्राणां परिविष्यताम् ॥
स्थापिता तत्र संज्ञाभूच् छङ्खो ध्मायति नित्यशः ॥
मुहुर् मुहुः प्रणदतस् तस्य शङ्खस्य भारत ॥
उत्तमं शब्दम् अश्रौषं ततो रोमाणि मे ऽहृषन् ॥
gṛhītvā tat tu gacchanti samudrau pūrvadakṣiṇau ||
tathaiva paścimaṃ yānti gṛhītvā bharatarṣabha ||
uttaraṃ tu na gacchanti vinā tāta patatribhiḥ ||
idaṃ cādbhutam atrāsīt tan me nigadataḥ śṛṇu ||
pūrṇe śatasahasre tu viprāṇāṃ pariviṣyatām ||
sthāpitā tatra saṃjñābhūc chaṅkho dhmāyati nityaśaḥ ||
muhur muhuḥ praṇadatas tasya śaṅkhasya bhārata ||
uttamaṃ śabdam aśrauṣaṃ tato romāṇi me 'hṛṣan ||
"Taking the gifts, they go to the eastern and southern seas; so too, taking them, they go to the western sea, O bull of the Bharatas. But to the northern they do not go, beloved, without winged companions. And here is a wonder that occurred there — hear of it from me: when a full hundred thousand brahmins were being feasted, a sign was set up — a conch that trumpets without ceasing. Again and again, as that conch sounded, I heard its supreme note, O Bharata, and at that my hair stood on end."
95d05ccbab00 · published Jul 16, 2026, 3:49:22 PM UTC
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Even the sound of the conch over the sated brahmins — a sign of generosity and piety — turns to a shudder for Duryodhana. It is telling that a sacred sound, which would raise the hair of the righteous in reverence, raises the hair of the envious in anguish. The verse teaches that one and the same sign of grace strikes hearts differently: for the pure it is rapture, for the wounded, torment. The conch proclaimed that a hundred thousand sages had been fed — tidings that gladden heaven — but Duryodhana heard in it only the measure of another's glory. One incapable of rejoicing in a neighbor's piety hears in the trumpet-call of mercy nothing but a sentence upon himself.