As the first rays of the sun break through the eastern sky, Arjuna surveys the battle formation Drona has arranged to protect Jayadratha.
Shakatavyuha. The cart phalanx. Somewhere in this solid, square box is his quarry.
My brother’s face is carved in stone, except for his bloodshot eyes that restlessly flit across the enemy line, assessing, calculating.
I look at Krishna. It is clear he too has not slept much.
Drishtadyumna had predicted the enemy would be arrayed in the cart formation. He had also asked Yudhistira to position himself securely.
‘The war will be over if Yudhistira is exposed,’ he said. ‘Drona will target him, especially now that our attention is focussed elsewhere.’
Today, Satyaki is guarding my elder brother. Drishtadyumna has asked me not to stray far either. The rest will support Arjuna.
As our men crash into the formidable wall Drona has erected, the Kauravas put up a strong defence. Jayadratha is nowhere to be seen.
Leaving Yudhistira and Satyaki in the second line, I surge ahead behind Arjuna.
My brother stands tall in his chariot, deft fingers distributing metal-tipped revenge from the Gandiva in a way I never thought possible.
When Arjuna unleashes the fire arrows, there is panic in the enemy ranks. Our ground troops use the confusion to batter their formation.
Leaping down from the chariot, I join in the mayhem. I spot one of the Kaurava brothers in the melee, engaging Arjuna but briefly.
For a short while I hear the mesmerizing song of Arjuna’s bowstring. Then, when I look up, he is gone. Drona’s first line lies in tatters.
With Nakula and Sahadeva, I fall upon the Kaurava troops, giving them no chance to regroup. Today, we all slaughter to avenge Abhimanyu.
At one point I see Yudhistira rushing with unexpected fury at Salya. My elder brother matches the more experienced warrior arrow for arrow.
Realizing the danger of Yudhistira continuing on the frontline for too long, I persuade him to leave Salya to me.
Drishtadyumna has moved farther away by the time Salya retreats. I see his chariot through a cloud of dust, cutting deeper into enemy lines.
The sun climbs high, then begins its descent rapidly.
Yudhistira looks at me anxiously when I ride up to him. Through the day, messengers have kept him abreast of news from the various fronts.
‘Not much time left!’ he says. ‘The sun sets early today!’
When I look at him, he adds impatiently, ‘Dakshinayana. Today marks the end of summer solstice!’
I realize why Krishna had summoned the astrologers the night before. At least he has a more accurate idea of dusk fall than any of us.
Drona has created a formation within the formation, which Arjuna is trying to break into.
It is almost certain Jayadratha is inside the second formation. The Panchala princes Yuddhamanyu and Uttamaujas are with Arjuna.
Drishtadyumna too is nearby, engaging Drona’s division, though their battle seems to be taking him away from Arjuna’s forces.
Cautioning Yudhistira to position himself securely and not do anything foolish, I ride back, telling Visoka to find Drishtadyumna’s flag.
The light is beginning to fail when we sight Drishtadyumna’s men. Even as we approach, I sense something is wrong.
Cutting through a ring of ground troops, I come to a still chariot. On the deck lies a boy, his throat pierced by a single arrow.
Kshatradharma, Drishtadyumna’s son. Another sacrifice to the gods of war.
From the furious attack Drishtadyumna is launching on Drona, it is clear who is responsible for the death. I rush to assist the Panchala.
Two chariots cut across my path. My cousins. Perfect targets for my anger!
I leap out of the chariot. Wrenching the wheel of a destroyed vehicle, I send it spinning at the enemy on the left.
Catching it in his midriff, the Kaurava crumbles against his flagpole like a broken bamboo shoot. Roaring, I jump into the second chariot.
When I crush his neck with the metal of his own bow, my cousin lets out a gargling scream. Blood spurts with his last breath.
Two more of the blind man’s sons. I do not even recall their names. How many left now?
‘Here!’ Visoka shouts, driving up close. ‘We must go to Arjuna quickly!’
Fear grips me as we race towards where Arjuna is fighting. The light is almost gone. The battle could end any moment.
Excerpted with permission from the forthcoming EpicRetold, by Chindu Sreedharan, Harper-Collins India
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Shakatavyuha. The cart phalanx. Somewhere in this solid, square box is his quarry.
My brother’s face is carved in stone, except for his bloodshot eyes that restlessly flit across the enemy line, assessing, calculating.
I look at Krishna. It is clear he too has not slept much.
Drishtadyumna had predicted the enemy would be arrayed in the cart formation. He had also asked Yudhistira to position himself securely.
‘The war will be over if Yudhistira is exposed,’ he said. ‘Drona will target him, especially now that our attention is focussed elsewhere.’
Today, Satyaki is guarding my elder brother. Drishtadyumna has asked me not to stray far either. The rest will support Arjuna.
As our men crash into the formidable wall Drona has erected, the Kauravas put up a strong defence. Jayadratha is nowhere to be seen.
Leaving Yudhistira and Satyaki in the second line, I surge ahead behind Arjuna.
My brother stands tall in his chariot, deft fingers distributing metal-tipped revenge from the Gandiva in a way I never thought possible.
When Arjuna unleashes the fire arrows, there is panic in the enemy ranks. Our ground troops use the confusion to batter their formation.
Leaping down from the chariot, I join in the mayhem. I spot one of the Kaurava brothers in the melee, engaging Arjuna but briefly.
For a short while I hear the mesmerizing song of Arjuna’s bowstring. Then, when I look up, he is gone. Drona’s first line lies in tatters.
With Nakula and Sahadeva, I fall upon the Kaurava troops, giving them no chance to regroup. Today, we all slaughter to avenge Abhimanyu.
At one point I see Yudhistira rushing with unexpected fury at Salya. My elder brother matches the more experienced warrior arrow for arrow.
Realizing the danger of Yudhistira continuing on the frontline for too long, I persuade him to leave Salya to me.
Drishtadyumna has moved farther away by the time Salya retreats. I see his chariot through a cloud of dust, cutting deeper into enemy lines.
The sun climbs high, then begins its descent rapidly.
Yudhistira looks at me anxiously when I ride up to him. Through the day, messengers have kept him abreast of news from the various fronts.
‘Not much time left!’ he says. ‘The sun sets early today!’
When I look at him, he adds impatiently, ‘Dakshinayana. Today marks the end of summer solstice!’
I realize why Krishna had summoned the astrologers the night before. At least he has a more accurate idea of dusk fall than any of us.
Drona has created a formation within the formation, which Arjuna is trying to break into.
It is almost certain Jayadratha is inside the second formation. The Panchala princes Yuddhamanyu and Uttamaujas are with Arjuna.
Drishtadyumna too is nearby, engaging Drona’s division, though their battle seems to be taking him away from Arjuna’s forces.
Cautioning Yudhistira to position himself securely and not do anything foolish, I ride back, telling Visoka to find Drishtadyumna’s flag.
The light is beginning to fail when we sight Drishtadyumna’s men. Even as we approach, I sense something is wrong.
Cutting through a ring of ground troops, I come to a still chariot. On the deck lies a boy, his throat pierced by a single arrow.
Kshatradharma, Drishtadyumna’s son. Another sacrifice to the gods of war.
From the furious attack Drishtadyumna is launching on Drona, it is clear who is responsible for the death. I rush to assist the Panchala.
Two chariots cut across my path. My cousins. Perfect targets for my anger!
I leap out of the chariot. Wrenching the wheel of a destroyed vehicle, I send it spinning at the enemy on the left.
Catching it in his midriff, the Kaurava crumbles against his flagpole like a broken bamboo shoot. Roaring, I jump into the second chariot.
When I crush his neck with the metal of his own bow, my cousin lets out a gargling scream. Blood spurts with his last breath.
Two more of the blind man’s sons. I do not even recall their names. How many left now?
‘Here!’ Visoka shouts, driving up close. ‘We must go to Arjuna quickly!’
Fear grips me as we race towards where Arjuna is fighting. The light is almost gone. The battle could end any moment.
Excerpted with permission from the forthcoming EpicRetold, by Chindu Sreedharan, Harper-Collins India
