Analysis of Karuṇa-rasa

The sentiment of Pathos has been well-developed by the dramatist in this play. The presentation reaches its pitch when the war scene is depicted.

(i) The war takes place in the city (body) of Jīva.Hence, Jīva laments about the unbearable pains he is undergoing, as the body is occupied in every corner by the enemy armies of diseases.

The body is tormented–the feet are not able to move; the thighs are stiff and hands are shaking; the face has gone dry; eyes are not able to see clearly; ears, skin, and other sense organs too are not functioning properly; the heart is moving out of proportion and all the world is swimming before him (VI.68):

grātraṃ me paritapyate padayugaṃ śaktoti na spandituṃ stabdhaṃ coruyugaṃ bhujau ca bhajataḥ kampaṃ mukhaṃ śuṣyati |
nāstyakṣṇorviṣayagrahaḥ śravaṇayorapyevameva tvaco'pyanyat kiṃ calatīva hṛnnijapadādāśā bhramantīva ca ||

Further, he feels dejected with no courage; he feels like a piece of hard-clay thrown into the heavily pouring rain (VI.69):

nanu me duḥkhabhāgātmā na dhairyamavalambate |
kāṭhinyamiva mṛtpiṇḍo ghanavārisamutkṣitaḥ ||

In these two verses, the portrayal of the hero’s suffering raises in the readers’ heart a feeling of sadness; the verses are composed in such a way, that the reader is made to feel the pain of Jīva and also the dejection.

(ii) The climax of this play is filled with Pathos. Rājayakṣmā visits the battlefield with his queen Viṣūcī and Matsara and finds the place strewn with the bodies of his soldiers. He is not able to digest the idea that his army has been vanquished. The situation is all the more pathetic since all who lie dead are his kith and kin.

Above all he is not aware of the fate of his prince and minister, Pāṇḍu (VI.91):

yakṣmā |—hanta kathaṃ tādṛśānāmapi matsainyānāmīdṛśī duravastha |
jīvasya dhvajinīcarānatibalān śaktoti kaḥ śāsituṃ
  durvārairyudhi pātitāni mama yaiḥ sarvāṇi sainyāni ca |
pāṇḍurme sacivaḥ parairavadhi vā bhītaḥ palāyiṣṭa vā
  no jāne mama jīvato bata hatāḥ putrāstathā bāndhavāḥ ||

His sorrow burns him to such as extent that he finds the world without his children, a mere forest covered with darkness (VI.92):

bho bhoḥ sutā kvanu gatāḥ stha vinā bhavadbhirjīrṇāṭavīva jagatī paridṛśyate me |
ākramyate ca tamasā haridantarālaṃ śokāgnisaṃvalitamuttapate vapuśca ||

Yakṣmā’s sorrow knows no bounds; he wonders pathetically about when again he would see their faces, and hear their voices; he feels with deep sadness that their names alone remain for him to think about (VI.93):

he vatsā vadanāmbujāni mudito drakṣyāmi keṣāmahaṃ
  keṣāṃ mākṣikamākṣipanti vacanānyākarṇayiṣye mudā |
martyānāṃ tanuṣu praviṣṭamacirānmāṃ vardhayiṣyanti ke
  yūyaṃ yat samare parairatibalairnāmāvaśeṣīkṛtāḥ ||

(iii) On witnessing the wails of Yakṣmā, Kāla (who dictates the inevitable fluctuations of life) and Karma (who controls the effects of one’s fate) who had so far been narrating the entire war, exit from the stage unable to bear it (VI.94ab; p.414):

kālaḥ—putrapravilayādduḥkhaṃ na soḍhuṃ śakyate janaiḥ | ... tadimaṃ putraśokasaṃtaptaṃ yakṣmāṇamavekṣituṃ na śaktomi |
karma—āhamapyevameva | (ityubhau niṣkrāmataḥ |)

(iv) Viṣūcī, Yakṣma’s queen, breaks down with unbearable grief; she has just now seen her sons on their march to war and now they are no more to be seen.

The fire of bereavement burns like the dried grass (VI.96):

idānīṃ khalveva dṛṣṭā rājakumārāḥ kutra gatā yūyam |
vahati hṛdayaṃ śoko'gniriva śuṣkatṛṇajālam ||

Such instances bring out very poignantly, the Karuṇarasa.