Chapter 1, Verses 2-47

Well, after that dramatic opening by Dhrita-Rashtra, things become somewhat tamer. Sanjaya recalls the great warriors who engaged in the epic battle. He speaks about Duryodhana, the eldest son of Dhrita-Rashtra, who fought against the sons of Pandu (the Pandavas as they were called). We are introduced to the great archers in battle, the brothers Bhima and Arjuna, as well as the names of many heroic warriors like Bhishma, Vikarna, and Asvatthama. Several names are mentioned.

That’s the way the story unfolds from verses 2-11. It’s not all that interesting. There’s periodic mention of “masters of war”, but no discussion about how they became such masters. In verse 9, the phrase “manifold weapons” catches my attention. Does this mean a different variety of weapons, or are these weapons that have many forms, or can be used in many different ways?

In verse 12, Bhishma blows the conch shell, just like they did in Hawaii. Sure, this signified the beginning of the war, but I can’t help but think about the sounding of the Shofar during the Jewish High Holy Days.

In verse 13, there is the banging of the war drums. We also hear the trumpets and cymbals. It’s as if a high school marching band is warming up. Here we have such an incongruous picture: “our Western instruments” are being played in the serene Far East. What’s really occurring is the shattering of our preconceived notions about a peaceful, contemplative India.

Then, in verse 14, the scenery becomes even more colorful. Krishna and Arjuna are standing in a chariot being led by white horses. They too blow their conch-shells. In verse 15, we find out that Krishna is the Lord of the soul. Verse 16 indicates that the “good guys” win once Yudhishthira, the eldest of the Pandu brothers, sounds his “Eternal Victory”.

It’s all very warlike, yet there’s some moving phrasing throughout the dialog. After all sides in verse 18 have sounded the conch shells, it’s immediately followed with a description of the heavens and the earth trembling, as well as the hearts of Duryodhana and his warriors.

Now, it’s Arjuna’s turn to speak. He asks Krishna to place his chariot between the two armies. Krishna hears Arjuna’s plea and drives the chariot between the armies. This somehow allows Arjuna to see “those warriors who stand there eager for battle”. The trouble is that in verse 26, we discover that he sees family and friends in both armies. He thinks about how his “kinsmen” are fighting against each other; this sight saddens him.

Arjuna is a raving poet – no question about it! Witness how he speaks in verses 29-30:

“Life goes from my limbs and they sink, and my mouth is sear and dry; a trembling overcomes my body, and my hair shudders in horror.

My great bow Gandiva falls from my hands, and the skin of my flesh is burning; I am no longer able to stand, because my mind is whirling and wandering.”

In verse 31, he speaks words of wisdom: “And I see forebodings of evil, Krishna. I cannot foresee any glory if I kill my own kinsmen in the sacrifice of battle.” He does not say the battle should not be fought, but astutely indicates the price for waging that battle. Is he indicating that the battle is a necessary evil? At this point, this appears to be the case; but I will read on before making this conclusion.

Verses 32-34 reveal his doubts about fighting the war. He indicates he does not yearn for a kingdom or its treasures if it means killing those who they long to live in that kingdom, his own brethren. In verse 35, he refutes any desire to kill his adversaries even if it means that he is slain. From these verses, it’s clear to me that he rejects the notion that the battle is a necessary evil.

“If we kill these evil men, evil shall fall upon us: what joy in their death could we have, O Janardana, mover of souls?” This is verse 36. It appears that Arjuna is essentially saying, “What goes around comes around”. In attempting to eradicate evil, evil will recoil back unto them. A supplementary message is that “the ends don’t justify the means”. According to Arjuna, killing his brethren would be as evil as the evil they perpetuate; but what about a defensive action by Arjuna and his warriors? Would that too be considered evil? Perhaps it would be evil to refrain from such a self-defensive effort. Arjuna doesn’t consider this possibility. Self-preservation is not relevant in this context.

Starting with verse 40, the passage becomes even more interesting. Destroying one’s families destroys its “rituals of righteousness”. Unrighteousness will then overcome the entire family. When this occurs, Arjuna claims “the women sin and are impure” (verse 41). Then there is “disorder of castes, social confusion”. Arjuna doesn’t mention what these sins are, or why he singles out women to be the purveyors of sin and impurity. Do they become prostitutes, or are they unfaithful to their husbands, or do they refrain from their social and family obligations of motherhood? Also, the purity of the social order is not described here. The reader must simply accept the notion of “social order” as an article of faith, not to be questioned or challenged. Nevertheless, while I consider this prejudice against women to be an unfavorable relic of an ancient past, there is wisdom in the perception that war damages the social order.

OK, so one can argue that Arjuna isn’t a sociologist, but a poet who feels the anguish that could befall his brothers and sisters. Fine, so let us move on! In verse 42, we get a taste of some interesting metaphysics: “This disorder carries down to hell the family and the destroyers of the family. The spirits of their dead suffer in pain when deprived of the ritual offerings”.

Wow!! The social disorder leads to the dead family going to hell. Hell, as we see, is not a theological concept solely belonging to Christianity. Furthermore, the spirits of the dead no longer have anyone making ritual offerings on their behalf. Hence, they too feel pain. But there is a contradiction here: the dead should feel no pain. Only the living is capable of this. This leads me to conclude that either Arjuna is deeply confused about the affairs of the soul, or perceives something more profound about this metaphysical world. If it’s the latter, then we should not merely view the dead as inanimate objects, but as immortal beings whose souls can feel deep pain. In addition, they are far from being omnipotent for they simply can’t take matters into their own hands to avert their own pain.

The living must perform rituals to prevent them from experiencing pain. In other words, the living family has the power to alter the reality of their dead brethren, either through their own direct actions or through a series of events culminating with the intervention of responsive gods. The obligations of the living include the ritual offering not made to their gods, as was usually the custom in ancient religions and civilizations, but to their own family. One could make the argument that the well being of the ‘dead’ could alternatively be made through prayer. Praying for the safety of the souls of the dead could help perpetuate a state of non-pain. Without making any commentary about the nature of this “non-pain”, whether that is outright pleasure, joy or bliss, prayer could be the impetus for instantiating such change. In another vein, ritualism is in fact the actualized embodiment of prayer, for it encapsulates the hopes and aspirations of the living.

I’ll end here with a few words about Verses 45-46. “O day of darkness! What evil spirit moved our minds when for the sake of an earthly kingdom we came to this field of battle ready to kill our own people?” Clearly Arjuna sees no point for killing his brethren to support the kingdom on earth. In his despair, he says it would be if he were killed, while unarmed and unresisting, than succumbing to the ‘evil’ of killing his brethren. While noble in spirit, one can easily challenge the ethics of this point of view. Doesn’t one have an obligation to defend oneself, and more to the point, preserve one’s one life? Do we truly have a say over the disposal of our own lives? Is it our decision to make? Maybe Arjuna actually is thinking about these issues, even if he doesn’t verbalize them. Perhaps this leads to his feeling of “despair and grief” as expressed in verse 47.

One last question to ponder: would Arjuna see any worthiness in fighting for the kingdom of heaven? Seeing what lengths they go to preserving the life of the souls of the ‘dead’, one wonders what they would do for their comrades upstairs!

Last modified: March 17, 2002