by Kisari Mohan Ganguli | 2,566,952 words | ISBN-10: 8121505933
The English translation of the Mahabharata is a large text describing ancient India. It is authored by Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa and contains the records of ancient humans. Also, it documents the fate of the Kauravas and the Pandavas family. Another part of the large contents, deal with many philosophical dialogues such as the goals of life. Book...
"Sanjaya said, ’srutakarman then, O king, filled with wrath, struck that lord of Earth, viz., Citrasena, in that battle, with fifty shafts. The ruler of the Abhisars (in return), striking Srutakarman, O king, with nine straight arrows, pierced his driver with five. Srutakarman then, filled with rage, struck Citrasena at the head of his forces, with a keen arrow in a vital part. Deeply pierced, O monarch, with that arrow by that high-souled prince the heroic Citrasena felt great pain and swooned away. During this interval, Srutakarman of great renown covered that lord of Earth, (viz., his insensible antagonist), with ninety arrows. The mighty car-warrior Citrasena then, recovering consciousness, cut off his antagonist’s bow with a broad-headed arrow, and pierced his antagonist himself with seven arrows. Taking up another bow that was decked with gold, and capable of striking hard, Srutakarman then, with his waves of arrows, made Citrasena assume a wonderful appearance. Adorned with those arrows, the youthful king, wearing beautiful garlands, looked in that battle like a well-adorned youth in the midst of an assembly. Quickly piercing Srutakarman with an arrow in the centre of the chest, he said unto him, "Wait, Wait!" Srutakarman also, pierced with that arrow in the battle, began to shed blood, like a mountain shedding streams of liquid red chalk. Bathed in blood and dyed therewith, that hero shone in battle like a flowering Kinsuka. Srutakarman, then, O king, thus assailed by the foe, became filled with rage, and cut in twain the foe-resisting bow of Citrasena. The latter’s bow having been cut off, Srutakarman then, O king, pierced him with three hundred arrows equipped with goodly wings, covering him completely therewith. With another broad-headed arrow, sharp-edged and keen pointed, he cut off the head, decked with head-gear of his high-souled antagonist. That blazing head of Citrasena fell down on the ground, like the moon loosened from the firmament upon the Earth at will. Beholding the king slain, the troops of Citrasena, O sire, rushed impetuously against (his slayer). That great bowman then, filled with rage, rushed, shooting his shafts, against that army, like Yama filled with fury, against all creatures at the time of the universal dissolution. Slaughtered in that battle by your grandson armed with the bow, they quickly fled on all sides like elephants scorched by a forestconflagration. Beholding them flying away, hopeless of vanquishing the foe, Srutakarman, pursuing them with his keen arrows, looked exceedingly resplendent (on his car). Then Prativindhya, piercing Citra with five arrows, struck his driver with three and his standard with one. Him Citra pierced, striking in the arms and the chest, with nine broad-headed shafts equipped with wings of gold, having keen points, and plumed with Kanka and peacock feathers. Then Prativindhya, O Bharata, cutting off with his shafts the bow of his antagonist deeply struck the latter with five keen arrows. Then Citra, O monarch, sped at your grandson a terrible and irresistible dart, adorned with golden bells, and resembling a flame of fire. Prativindhya, however, in that battle, cut off, with the greatest ease, into three fragments, that dart as it coursed towards him like a flashing meteor. Cut off into three fragments, with Prativindhya’s shafts, that dart fell down, like the thunderbolt inspiring all creatures with fear at the end of the Yuga. Beholding that dart baffled, Citra, taking up a huge mace decked with a net-work of gold, hurled it at Prativindhya. That mace slew the latter’s steeds and driver also in that great battle, and crushing, besides, his car, fell with great impetuosity on the Earth. Meanwhile, having alighted from his car, O Bharata, Prativindhya hurled at Citra a dart, well-adorned and equipped with a golden staff. Catching it as it coursed towards him, the high-souled king Citra, O Bharata, hurled the very weapon at Prativindhya. Striking the brave Prativindhya in that battle, that blazing dart, piercing through his right arm, fell down on the Earth, and falling illumined the whole region like a blast of lightning. Then Prativindhya, O king, filled with rage, and desiring to compass the destruction of Citra, sped at him a lance decked with gold. That lance penetrating through his armour and chest, entered the Earth like a mighty snake in its hole. Struck with that lance, the king fell down, stretching out his large and massive arms that resembled a couple of iron clubs. Beholding Citra slain, your warriors, those ornaments of battle, rushed impetuously at Prativindhya from all sides. Shooting diverse kinds of shafts and Sataghnis decked with rows of bells, they soon covered Prativindhya like masses of clouds covering the Sun. The mighty-armed Prativindhya, consuming with his arrowy showers those assailants of his in that battle, routed your army like the thunder-wielding Sakra routing the Asura host. Thus slaughtered in battle by the Pandavas, your troops, O king, suddenly dispersed in all directions like congregated masses of clouds dispersed by the wind. While your army, slaughtered on all sides, was thus flying away, only Drona’s son singly rushed with speed against the mighty Bhimasena. All at once a fierce encounter ensued between them like to what had taken place between Vritra and Vasava in the battle between the gods and the Asuras (of old).'"
This concludes Section 14 of Book 8 of the Mahabharata, of which an English translation is presented on this page. This book is famous as one of the Itihasa, similair in content to the eighteen Puranas. is one of the eighteen books comprising roughly 100,000 Sanskrit metrical verses.