ततो भीमः स्मरन् क्लेशान् अक्षद्यूते वने ऽपि च ॥
विराटनगरे चैव प्राप्तं दुःखम् अरिंदमः ॥
राष्ट्राणां स्फीतरत्नानां हरणं च तवात्मजैः ॥
सततं च परिक्लेशान् सपुत्रेण त्वया कृतान् ॥
दग्धुम् ऐच्छश् च यत् कुन्तीं सपुत्रां त्वम् अनागसम् ॥
कृष्णायाश् च परिक्लेशं सभामध्ये दुरात्मभिः ॥
tato bhīmaḥ smaran kleśān akṣadyūte vane 'pi ca ||
virāṭanagare caiva prāptaṃ duḥkham ariṃdamaḥ ||
rāṣṭrāṇāṃ sphītaratnānāṃ haraṇaṃ ca tavātmajaiḥ ||
satataṃ ca parikleśān saputreṇa tvayā kṛtān ||
dagdhum aicchaś ca yat kuntīṃ saputrāṃ tvam anāgasam ||
kṛṣṇāyāś ca parikleśaṃ sabhāmadhye durātmabhiḥ ||
Then Bhima, tamer of foes, recalling the sufferings endured in the game of dice, and in the forest, and in the city of Virata; the seizure by your sons of kingdoms rich with treasures; the ceaseless torments wrought by you together with your son; that you wished to burn the guiltless Kunti together with her sons; and the humiliation of Draupadi amid the assembly by the wicked...
ab22c6d1664b · publicado 19 jul 2026, 16:17:33 UTC
Disponible enRUENPasa de verso en verso con
Bhima's wrath is not blind but remembering: behind it stands a whole procession of wrongs — the dice, the exile, the plots, the pyre meant for an innocent mother, the outrage against his wife. It is telling that she is named "anagasam" — guiltless: the weight of a misdeed is measured by the innocence of its victim. The verse teaches that wrong does not vanish with the hour, but waits in the memory of the wronged, and in its season exacts payment in full.