001.001 The Mahabharata story summarized
Having bowed to Nārāyaṇa, Nara, the best among men, and to the goddess Sarasvatī, one should then proclaim victory (success).
Ugraśravā, the son of Lomaharṣaṇa, a bard and knower of the Purāṇas, (was present) in the twelve-year sacrificial session of Śaunaka, the chief of the lineage, in the forest of Naimiṣa.
Once, the son of the Sūta, bowing humbly, approached the Brahmarṣis, who were seated and firm in their vows.
The ascetics dwelling in Naimiṣāraṇya gathered there around him, who had arrived at the hermitage, desiring to hear various stories.
Having saluted all those sages with folded hands, he inquired about the growth of their austerities, and was warmly welcomed by the virtuous ones.
Then, when all the ascetics had seated themselves, Lomaharṣaṇa's son, out of humility, took the seat that was designated for him.
Then, observing him comfortably seated and rested, a certain sage there asked him, introducing various stories.
From where have you come, O son of a Sūta, and where have you spent this time? O lotus-eyed one, tell this to me as I ask.
The Sūta said:
At the snake sacrifice of the great-souled royal sage Janamejaya, in the proper presence of the king of kings, the son of Parīkṣit.
The highly meritorious and various stories spoken by Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana (Vyāsa) were also properly narrated by Vaiśampāyana.
Having heard those wondrously meaningful stories connected with the Mahābhārata, I wandered through many sacred places and shrines.
went to that holy region named Samantapañcaka, frequented by the twice-born, where the great battle once took place.
Of the Pāṇḍavas, the Kurus, and all the rulers of the earth.
Desirous of seeing you, I have come here from there; for in my view, all of you are long-lived and have realized Brahman.
In this sacrifice, the greatly fortunate ones, possessing the splendor of the sun and fire, consecrated, pure, having completed their recitations, and having offered oblations into the fire, are present.
You all are seated well; O twice-born ones, what shall I speak?
Shall I speak meritorious stories connected with the Purāṇas or with righteousness, or the narratives of the great-souled kings and sages?
The sages said:
The Purāṇa that was spoken by Dvaipāyana, the supreme sage, and which, having been heard, was honored by the gods and Brahmarṣis.
Of that foremost narration, having marvelous expressions and divisions, endowed with subtle meanings and logical reasoning, and adorned with the meanings of the Vedas.
The sacred history of Bhārata, filled with the meanings of the scriptures, imbued with refinement, pertaining to sacred knowledge, and supported by various sciences.
That which Vaiśampāyana, the sage, properly narrated to King Janamejaya out of satisfaction during the sacrificial session, by the command of Dvaipāyana.
We wish to hear the compilation, compiled from the four Vedas by Vyāsa of wondrous deeds, righteous and removing the fear of sin.
The Sūta said:
The primordial being, the lord, invoked and praised by many, the cosmic order, the one imperishable syllable, the absolute reality, both manifest and unmanifest, eternal.
That which is both the real and the unreal, the universe beyond real and unreal, the creator of higher and lower beings, ancient, supreme, and imperishable.
Having saluted Viṣṇu, the auspicious, the source of auspiciousness, the most excellent, sinless, pure, Hṛṣīkeśa, the teacher of all moving and unmoving beings, Hari.
I shall narrate here the entire doctrine of Vyāsa, the great sage of boundless splendor, who is honored in all the worlds.
Some poets have narrated this history, others are narrating it at present, and others likewise will narrate it on the earth.
Indeed, this great knowledge established in the three worlds is preserved by the twice-born, both in detailed and condensed forms.
Adorned with auspicious words and expressions in both divine and human styles, endowed with various metrical patterns, it is dear to the learned.
In this lightless, darkened state, enveloped on all sides by darkness, a single vast cosmic egg came into being—an imperishable seed of all beings.
At the beginning of the age, that great divine cause is declared, in which is heard the eternal Brahman—truth and light.
It is wondrous, inconceivable, and pervades all with sameness; it is the unmanifest, subtle cause—of the nature of both being and non-being.
From whom were born the grandsire, the one lord of creatures—Brahmā, the preceptor of the gods, Śiva (Sthāṇu), Manu, Ka, and Paramesthin.
From Prācetasa and likewise Dakṣa and his seven sons, there arose twenty-one lords of beings (progenitors of creation).
And the Supreme Person, of incomprehensible nature, is known by all the sages, as well as by the Viśvedevas, the Ādityas, the Vasus, and also the Aśvin twins.
The Yakṣas, Sādhyas, Piśācas, Guhyakas, and the Pitṛs were likewise born; from them arose the wise and noble ones—the pure Brahmarṣis.
And many royal sages, endowed with all noble qualities; likewise, the waters, the heavens, the earth, the air, the mid-space, and the directions.
Years, seasons, months, fortnights, days and nights in order—and whatever else exists—all this has arisen and is witnessed by the world.
Whatever being is seen here, whether stationary or moving—all this world is again withdrawn when the end of the age arrives.
Just as in each season, various signs appear in succession but are the same in essence, so too do the states of being recur at the beginnings of each yuga.
Thus, this endless wheel of time, which causes the dissolution of beings and has neither beginning nor end, revolves continually in the world.
Thirty-three thousand, thirty-three hundred, and thirty-three—such is, in brief, the creation of the gods.
The son of heaven, of great radiance, the soul of sight, the shining one—Savitṛ, the inspirer with hymns, the radiant one, the light, the bringer of dawn and hope—he is the Sun (Ravi).
All are sons of Vivasvat; among them, I am the youngest. Being the son of the divine king, I am therefore known as Subhrāt.
Subhrāj had three sons, all rich in offspring and widely renowned—one shining with tenfold brilliance, one with a hundredfold, and one with a thousandfold brilliance, each endowed with inner strength.
The great-souled Daśajyotis had ten thousand sons; and from Śatajotis were born others here, ten times more powerful than them.
The sons of Sahasrajyotis were ten times greater than those before; from them arose the lineages of the Kurus, the Yādavas, and of Bharata.
The lineages of Yayāti and Ikṣvāku, and of all the royal sages, were born; many such lineages and generations of beings arose in elaborate detail.
All the abodes of beings, the threefold secret, the Vedic connection with true knowledge, and dharma, artha, and kāma—these indeed.
The sage beheld the emergence of scriptures on dharma, kāma, and artha, various other sciences, and the regulations of worldly conduct.
Historical accounts with detailed explanations, various kinds of revealed scriptures—all this is included here; such is the nature of this text.
Having first expanded this great knowledge, the sage then spoke it in brief, for in this world the wise desire a balance of summary and detail.
Some sages study the Mahābhārata beginning with Manu, others with Āstīka, and still others with Uparicara; all of them study it thoroughly.
The wise illuminate various forms of scriptural knowledge; some are skilled in explaining it, while others are devoted to preserving the text.
Having compiled the eternal Veda through austerity and disciplined life, the son of Satyavatī composed this meritorious history (Mahābhārata).
The wise son of Parāśara, a Brahmarṣi firm in his vows, composed (the text), being righteous in soul, under his mother’s direction and for the sake of the wise son of Gaṅgā (Bhīṣma).
Long ago, Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana (Vyāsa), full of strength, begot three Kauravas—like sacred fires—in the field of Vicitravīrya.
Having begotten Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Pāṇḍu, and Vidura, the wise Vyāsa once again departed to his hermitage for austerity.
When they were born, had grown, and passed on to the supreme state, the great sage composed and spoke the Bhārata in this human world.
Having been asked by Janamejaya and thousands of Brāhmaṇas, the sage instructed his disciple Vaiśampāyana, who was seated nearby.
He, seated along with the ritual participants, recited the Bhārata during the intervals of the sacrifice, being urged again and again.
Vyāsa (Dvaipāyana) properly narrated the detailed history of the Kuru lineage, the righteousness of Gāndhārī, the wisdom and firmness of Vidura, and the character of Kuntī.
The venerable sage spoke of the greatness of Vāsudeva, the righteousness of the Pāṇḍavas, and the wickedness of the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra.
He composed the Bhārata compilation of twenty-four thousand verses; in that form, without the sub-stories, it is referred to as the Bhārata by the wise.
The sage then composed, in a concise form of more than fifty (verses or chapters), an introductory summary of the events, along with their respective sections.
Dvaipāyana first taught this (Bhārata) to his son Śuka; afterward, the master imparted it to other worthy disciples.
Nārada recited it to the gods, Asita and Devala to the ancestors, and Śuka indeed caused the Gandharvas, Yakṣas, and Rākṣasas to hear it.
Duryodhana was a great tree made of wrath; Karṇa its trunk, Śakuni its branches; Duḥśāsana its flourishing flowers and fruits; and the root was King Dhṛtarāṣṭra, devoid of wisdom.
Seated with the sacrificial participants, he recited the Mahābhārata again and again, as he was urged during the intervals of the sacrifice.
Vyāsa spoke in full about the Kuru lineage, the righteous character of Gāndhārī, the wisdom and steadfastness of Vidura, and the nature of Kuntī.
The venerable sage spoke of the greatness of Vāsudeva, the truthfulness of the Pāṇḍavas, and the wicked conduct of the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra.
Agreement of the mothers is accepted concerning the secret doctrine of Dharma—this pertains to Dharma, Vāyu, Indra, the gods, and also the Aśvins.
They grew up with ascetics, protected by their two mothers, in holy forests and sacred hermitages of the great sages.
The sages themselves brought them—handsome children with matted hair, practicing celibacy—to the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra.
These are your sons, brothers, disciples, and friends—the Pāṇḍavas, said the sages, and then disappeared.
When the Pāṇḍavas, presented by the sages, were seen, the Kauravas and the noble citizens cried out in great joy.
Some said, “These are not his,” while others said, “These are his.” And others wondered, “How can they be his when Pāṇḍu has long been dead?”
“Welcome indeed! By fortune we behold Pāṇḍu’s offspring!” — such words of welcome were heard from all sides.
When that sound ceased, all directions resounded; a tumultuous reverberation arose from the vanished beings.
Showers of flowers, auspicious fragrances, and the sounds of conches and drums arose at the entry of the sons of Pṛthā; it appeared as if a wondrous event had occurred.
From the joy of all the citizens, a great sound arose there—reaching the sky and increasing fame.
The Pāṇḍavas, having studied all the Vedas and various scriptures, resided there, honored and fearless.
The people were pleased by the purity of Yudhiṣṭhira, by the steadfastness of Bhīmasena, and by the valor of Arjuna.
The entire people were pleased by Kuntī’s service to elders, by the humility of the twins, and by the valorous qualities of them all.
Then, at the assembly of kings, Arjuna won Kṛṣṇā (Draupadī), who had chosen her own husband, having performed a deed exceedingly difficult.
From that time on, in this world, he became revered among all archers, like the sun, difficult to behold even in battles.
Having conquered all kings and great hosts, Arjuna brought in the great Rājasūya sacrifice for the king.
The great Rājasūya sacrifice, abundant in food and rich in gifts, endowed with all virtues, was performed by Yudhiṣṭhira.
By the good counsel of Vāsudeva and the strength of Bhīma and Arjuna, they slew Jarāsandha and the proud king of Cedi.
To Duryodhana came tributes from all sides: jewels, gold, cows, elephants, horses, and wealth.
Having seen the great prosperity of the Pāṇḍavas, a very great wrath born of envy arose in him.
He was tormented upon seeing the hall of the Pāṇḍavas, as beautiful as a celestial palace, crafted by Maya.
There, being laughed at and stumbling in confusion, he was shamed before Vāsudeva by Bhīma as one of low birth.
He, though enjoying various pleasures and jewels, was described as Dhṛtarāṣṭra's pale and emaciated deer.
Then Dhṛtarāṣṭra, fond of his son, approved the gambling; hearing this, great anger arose in Vāsudeva.
He was not very pleased in mind, yet approved the disputes; he also overlooked the terrible and intensified policies like gambling.
Having dismissed Vidura, Droṇa, Bhīṣma, Śāradvata, and Kṛpa, the warriors struck each other in that intense conflict.
Hearing the very grievous news when the sons of Pāṇḍu were victorious, and knowing the counsel of Duryodhana, Karṇa, and Śakuni as well—
Dhṛtarāṣṭra, after long meditation, spoke words to Sañjaya.
Listen to me, O Sañjaya, and do not blame me; you are learned, intelligent, wise, and respected by the wise.
My mind is not inclined toward conflict, nor am I pleased with the destruction of the Kurus; I have no preference among my own sons and the sons of Pāṇḍu.
My sons, devoted to anger, blame me though I am aged; but being blind, out of weakness and love for them, I endure it.
And as Duryodhana is deluded and foolish, I too become deluded along with him.
At the Rājasūya sacrifice, seeing the splendor of the mighty Pāṇḍava and being ridiculed during the viewing of the hall's elevation—
Enraged, yet unable to defeat the Pāṇḍavas in battle, he became dispirited in seeking glory—like one unworthy of a warrior.
He conspired for deceitful gambling along with the king of Gāndhāra.
Now hear, O Sañjaya, whatever I have known there and as it happened; for having heard my words, joined with reason and essence—
Then, O Sañjaya, you will know me as one who sees with the eye of wisdom—so it is said.
When I heard the bow being stretched marvelously, the target struck and fallen on the earth, and Kṛṣṇā won in the sight of all kings—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard in Dvārakā that Subhadrā, the Mādhavī, was forcibly taken by Arjuna and both Vṛṣṇi heroes had gone to Indraprastha—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the king of gods was repelled by Arjuna's celestial arrows, and that Agni was satisfied in the Khāṇḍava forest—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Yudhiṣṭhira had lost his kingdom and was defeated by Śakuni at dice, yet followed by his immeasurable brothers—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard of Draupadī, her throat choked with tears, led into the assembly, distressed, in a single garment, menstruating, though having protectors yet as if abandoned—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard, dear one, of the various sufferings of the righteous Pāṇḍavas, who went to the forest and endured hardships out of affection for their elder—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Dharmarāja, dwelling in the forest, was followed by thousands of great-souled Brāhmaṇas living on alms—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Arjuna pleased the Lord of gods, the three-eyed one in hunter form, and received the great Pāśupata weapon—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Arjuna, residing in heaven, received a divine weapon directly from Indra, was praised while studying, and was steadfast in truth—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Bhīma and the other sons of Pṛthā met with Vaiśravaṇa in a region inaccessible to men—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that our sons, devoted to Karṇa’s counsel, were captured by the Gandharvas during the cattle expedition and released by Arjuna—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Dharma, in the form of a Yakṣa, met Dharmarāja and answered all his questions rightly—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that my foremost warriors were defeated by Dhanañjaya with a single chariot while he dwelt in King Virāṭa’s land—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that King Matsya had honored Arjuna and given his daughter Uttarā to him, and Arjuna accepted her for his son—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Yudhiṣṭhira, though defeated, impoverished, exiled, and cast off from his own kin, had assembled seven armies—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard Nārada say that Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna are Nara and Nārāyaṇa, whom he always sees in Brahmā’s world—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Mādhava Vāsudeva had wholly committed himself to the cause of the Pāṇḍavas, he whose single stride is said to encompass the earth—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Karṇa and Duryodhana planned to bind Keśava, and he revealed himself in many forms—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that as Vāsudeva departed, Pṛthā, distressed, stood alone before his chariot and was consoled by Keśava—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard Vāsudeva as counsellor, Bhīṣma son of Śāntanu, and Bharadvāja’s son bestowing blessings upon them—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard Karṇa say to Bhīṣma, “I shall not fight while you are in battle,” and then abandon the army and withdraw—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the three fierce powers—Vāsudeva, Arjuna, and the immeasurable bow Gāṇḍīva—had come together—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Arjuna, overcome with dejection, had collapsed on the chariot seat, and Kṛṣṇa revealed the worlds within his own body—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Bhīṣma, the scourge of enemies, was slaying chariot warriors with banners and none among them, though visible, could be struck down—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the supremely heroic and invincible Bhīṣma was slain by Arjuna in battle, placing Śikhaṇḍin before him—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the aged and valiant Bhīṣma, lying on a bed of arrows, had been struck down with ornate shafts and had left only a few of the Somakas remaining—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Bhīṣma, lying on the ground, had his thirst quenched by Arjuna piercing the earth to bring forth water—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Venus and the Sun were aligned favorably for the sons of Kuntī, and beasts of prey constantly howled around us—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When Droṇa, the brilliant warrior, displayed many kinds of weapon techniques in battle, yet did not slay the foremost among the Pāṇḍavas—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that our mighty warriors, the Saṁśaptakas, who had vowed to kill Arjuna, were slain by him—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Abhimanyu, the heroic son of Subhadrā, alone entered the impenetrable formation guarded by Droṇa, which others could not breach—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that all the great warriors surrounded and slew the young Abhimanyu and rejoiced, but could not face Pārtha—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that after killing Abhimanyu, the deluded sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra shouted in joy, and Arjuna released his wrath on Jayadratha—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Arjuna had vowed to slay the Saindhava and fulfilled that vow truly in the midst of enemies—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Arjuna, with exhausted horses, had unyoked and watered them, then yoked them again with Vāsudeva and resumed battle—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that even while the steeds were resting, Arjuna, standing on his chariot with Gāṇḍīva, was still repelling all warriors—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Sātyaki had crushed Droṇa’s mighty elephant-guarded division and reached the place where Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna were—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Karṇa, after insulting Bhīma with harsh words, struck the hero with the tip of his bow yet spared his life—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When Droṇa, Kṛtavarmā, Kṛpa, Karṇa, Aśvatthāma, and Śalya the mighty king of Madra all burned with rage as Jayadratha was being slain—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the divine weapon given by the king of gods was wasted by Mādhava on the terrifying demon Ghaṭotkaca—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the deadly missile, which could have slain Arjuna in battle, was released by Karṇa upon Ghaṭotkaca in their duel—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Droṇa, the lone preceptor, was beheaded by Dhṛṣṭadyumna even after he had given up fighting, in defiance of righteousness—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Aśvatthāma engaged Nakula, the son of Mādrī, in equal single combat in the midst of all—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that after Droṇa's death, his son released the celestial Nārāyaṇa weapon but it failed to destroy the Pāṇḍavas—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Karṇa, supremely valiant and unconquerable in battle, was slain by Arjuna in that god-concealed fraternal war—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Aśvatthāma, Kṛpa, Duḥśāsana, and the fierce Kṛtavarmā attacked the solitary Yudhiṣṭhira—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Śalya, the brave king of Madra who always contended with Kṛṣṇa in battle, was slain by Yudhiṣṭhira—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the deceitful Śakuni, root of the dice game and quarrel, was slain in battle by Sahadeva—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that the weary and lone Duryodhana, his pride broken, had gone to a lake, stilled its waters, and lay hidden without his chariot—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that my wrathful son attacked the Pāṇḍavas who stood firm with Vāsudeva in the Ganga lake—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that various mace-fighting techniques were displayed in circular motion, and the opponent was slain deceitfully by Vāsudeva’s strategy—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Droṇa’s son and others slew the sleeping Pāñcālas and Draupadī’s sons in a ghastly and disgraceful act—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Aśvatthāma, followed by Bhīma, released the supreme weapon in rage and struck down the womb with an iron dart—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Arjuna neutralized the Brahmāstra with another peaceful weapon, and Aśvatthāma gave up his jewel—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
When I heard that Droṇa’s son hurled the supreme weapon into the womb of the princess of Virāṭa, then Dvaipāyana and Keśava cursed him mutually with imprecations—then, O Sañjaya, I no longer hoped for victory.
Gāndhārī, bereft of sons and grandsons, and the wives, deprived of fathers and brothers, are to be pitied. The Pāṇḍavas accomplished their dreadful task and once again attained a kingdom free of rivals.
Terrible indeed was the war, for only ten survived—three of ours and seven of the Pāṇḍavas. Eighteen full armies were destroyed in that conflict among the kṣatriyas.
Darkness seems to envelop me, delusion overtakes my heart. I cannot grasp awareness, O charioteer—my mind is as though distraught.
Thus spoke Dhṛtarāṣṭra, then grieving bitterly he fainted. Regaining consciousness, he again addressed Sañjaya with these words.
O Sañjaya, since things have come to this, I no longer wish to live—do not delay. I see not even the slightest purpose in holding on to life.
Seeing the sorrowful king thus lamenting and speaking in distress, the wise Gāvalgaṇi (Sañjaya) spoke these weighty words.
You have indeed heard of the mighty and spirited kings, as spoken of by the wise Dvaipāyana and Nārada.
In those great royal lineages, born with virtues and mastery over divine weapons, were warriors of radiance equal to Indra.
Having righteously conquered the earth and performed duly-offered sacrifices, they attained glory in this world and then submitted to the power of Time.
Vainya, the mighty charioteer; Sṛñjaya, best among the victorious; Suhotra, Rantideva, Kakṣīvanta, and Auśija—all these heroic kings.
Bāhlīka, Damana, Śaibya, Śaryāti who overcame defeat; Viśvāmitra, the slayer of foes; Ambarīṣa of great strength—
Marutta, Manu, Ikṣvāku, Gaya, and Bharata; also Rāma, the son of Daśaratha; Śaśabindu and Bhagīratha—
Yayāti, performer of noble deeds, whom even the gods had made to conduct sacrifices themselves—his was this earth, marked with sacrificial posts and filled with sacred rites.
Thus were twenty-four illustrious kings once recounted by the divine sage Nārada to King Śaibya, who was tormented by grief over his son.
Others too have passed before them—kings even mightier, great warriors and noble souls, endowed with every virtue.
Pūru, Kuru, Yadu, Śūra, Viṣvagaśva the steadfast, Anenā, Yuvanāśva, Kakutstha and the valiant Raghu—
Vijitī, Vītihotra, Bhava, Śveta, Bṛhadguru, Uśīnara, Śataratha, Kaṅka, Duliduha, and Druma—
Dambhodbhava, Para, Vena, Sagara, Saṅkṛti, Nimi; the invincible Ajeṣya, Paraśu, Puṇḍra, Śambhu, Devāvṛddha the sinless—
Deva-āhvaya, Supratima, Supratīka, Bṛhadratha; the zealous Mahotsāha, the humble Sukratu, and Nala, king of Niṣadha—
Satyavrata, calm and fearless; Sumitra, Subala, the noble ruler; Jānujaṅgha, Anaraṇya, Arka; one loved by his servants and firm in his sacred vows—
Balabandhu, the strong ally; Nirāmarda, Ketuśṛṅga, Bṛhadbala; Dhṛṣṭaketu, Bṛhatketu, Dīptaketu, and Nirāmaya—
Avikṣit, mighty and clever; loyal in friendship, firm in archery; ancient in fame, revered, strong-limbed, slayer of foes, and widely known—
These and many others—by the hundreds, by the thousands, even tens of thousands—are heard of; others are counted by the millions.
Having renounced vast pleasures, the wise and powerful kings—foremost of men—met their death at the hands of your sons.
Those whose deeds were divine, whose valor and renunciation were evident, who possessed greatness, faith, truthfulness, purity, and honesty—
They, possessed of all virtues and glories, are praised by the wise in the world, in the Purāṇas, and by the greatest poets—yet even they have passed away.
Your sons were evil-minded, overcome with anger, greedy and mostly unrighteous—you ought not to grieve for them.
You are learned, intelligent, wise, and respected by scholars; those whose intellect follows the śāstra are not deluded, O Bhārata.
Restraint and favor, O king, are both known to you; absolute indulgence in protecting sons is not commended.
What was destined has come to pass; therefore you should not grieve. Who can, by intellect alone, turn aside what is ordained by fate?
No one can overstep the path ordained by the Creator. All existence and non-existence, joy and sorrow—are rooted in time.
Time matures all beings; time also destroys them. When time scorches the creatures, it again brings peace to them.
Time changes all conditions, good and bad, in the world; it withdraws all beings, and again sends them forth.
Time moves equally and without restraint among all beings.
Knowing that all past, future, and present conditions are shaped by time, you ought not to abandon your awareness.
The narrator (Sūta) said—
Here, the sacred Upaniṣad was spoken by Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana; even a quarter of it studied brings more merit than the entire reading of the Mahābhārata.
All sins of the faithful are entirely cleansed.
Here are praised the virtuous divine sages, brahmarṣis, royal sages, noble actors, and beings like yakṣas and mighty serpents.
Here, the eternal Lord Vāsudeva is glorified—he is truth, immortality, purity, and sacredness itself.
He is the eternal, supreme, unchanging, and everlasting light—whose divine deeds the wise describe as that of the Supreme Brahman.
The real, the unreal, and both—proceed from that Divine; from him arise continuity, activity, birth, death, and rebirth.
That which is called the Self, composed of the qualities of the five elements, beginning from the unmanifest to the supreme—that indeed is sung as the highest truth.
That reality the best of ascetics, endowed with meditative strength, behold within themselves—like a reflection in a mirror.
One who is faithful, always disciplined, and devoted to truth and righteousness—by reciting this chapter is freed from sin.
He who constantly listens to this introductory chapter of the Mahābhārata from the beginning, being faithful, does not succumb in times of hardship.
Even by chanting a little at both twilight hours, one is freed at once from sin; so long as this Anukramaṇī remains, it cleanses the sins gathered by day and night.
This, indeed, is the very essence of the Mahābhārata—truth and immortality itself; just as butter is from curd, so is the Brāhmaṇa among bipeds.
Just as the ocean is the greatest of waters, and the cow the best of quadrupeds, so is the Mahābhārata held to be the greatest among texts.
Whoever causes even a portion of this to be heard by Brāhmaṇas at a śrāddha, his ancestors receive inexhaustible food and drink.
One should augment the Veda through the Itihāsa and Purāṇas; the Veda fears the one of little knowledge, saying, “This person will not carry me across.”
He who recites this Mahābhārata—called the Kārṣṇa Veda—gains its fruit, and is freed even from the sin of foetal destruction—there is no doubt of this.
Whoever, remaining pure, reads this chapter on each festival day—it is as though he has studied the entire Mahābhārata; such is my conviction.
He who listens daily to this ancient scripture with faith attains long life, fame, and the path to heaven.
The four Vedas on one side, and the Mahābhārata on the other—thus, long ago, the divine sages weighed them on a balance.
And in both greatness and gravity, the Mahābhārata weighed heavier on the scale.
Because of its greatness and profundity, it is called the Mahābhārata; whoever knows its true import is freed from all sin.
Austerity is not impurity; study is not impurity; natural adherence to the Vedic order is not impurity; even forcible seizure of wealth is not impurity—only those acts corrupted by inner disposition are truly impure.
