ततो रविर् मन्दमरीचिमण्डलो; जगामास्तं पांसुपुञ्जावगाढः ॥
निशा व्यगाहत् सुखशीतमारुता; ततो युद्धं प्रत्यवहारयावः ॥
एवं राजन्न् अवहारो बभूव; ततः पुनर् विमले ऽभूत् सुघोरम् ॥
काल्यं काल्यं विंशतिं वै दिनानि; तथैव चान्यानि दिनानि त्रीणि ॥
tato ravir mandamarīcimaṇḍalo; jagāmāstaṃ pāṃsupuñjāvagāḍhaḥ ||
niśā vyagāhat sukhaśītamārutā; tato yuddhaṃ pratyavahārayāvaḥ ||
evaṃ rājann avahāro babhūva; tataḥ punar vimale 'bhūt sughoram ||
kālyaṃ kālyaṃ viṃśatiṃ vai dināni; tathaiva cānyāni dināni trīṇi ||
Then the sun, its orb of rays grown dim and sunk in clouds of dust, set; night came on with a pleasant, cool breeze, and we broke off the fighting. Thus, O king, did the battle cease. Then again, each morning, when the sky was clear, this dreadful battle continued for twenty days, and yet three days more.
4c39cb82eff5 · publicado 17 jul 2026, 6:42:04 UTC
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Here the battle becomes a trial not only of strength but of Bhishma's endurance before fear, loss, and the sight of death. The charioteer's death breaks the ordinary order of chariot combat: Bhishma is left without support, falls, sees himself nearly slain, yet receives protection from brahmins and from Ganga. This matters: even when a kshatriya stands firm in his vow, his life is sustained not by personal valor alone but by blessing, lineage, and unseen grace. The omens at Rama's fall show that violence between such great souls shakes the world itself. Victory here again brings no triumph; each day ends only in a halt to the fighting, while the conflict endures like a heavy karma that cannot be quickly untied.