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Arjuna’s Monologue

Arjuna’s Monologue

“This vast battlefield stretches in front of me

Dry, though it shall no longer be

Because a rivulet of blood will flow here soon

And Kurukshetra will weep, silently, under the moon.

Countless lives will end right here

Soaked in this soil, with no fear

I think that this battlefield has a heart of stone

For it’ll witness this humongous war, entirely and alone.

kurukshetra war. | Kurukshetra war, Spirituality, Kurukshetra

‘Fighting wars is a pride’, all of them said

Now, it’s going to be our glorious deathbed

Who will perish, who will go home again

All such matters are just so uncertain.

I can feel terror and anxiety seeping into my heart

How can I do this, tear each other apart?

They look over and see a hideous enemy

But I look over and see my family.

There stands my Guru, I bow to him

He made me myself, bright from dim

Entrusted me with these weapons and these skills

To make my way through life and life’s thrills.

Beside him stands, in white and with grace,

My loving grandfather, wiping a tear from his face

Oh, how loving and protective he was

Always by our side with a just cause.

I see my brothers, evil though they may be

But aren’t they those who grew up with me?

And uncles, nephews, soldiers, sons

Who blessed me so generously once.

Then, how can I aim my arrows at them?

Take an action that the whole world will condemn

They see no sin in killing a kin

To immorality, should I give in?

What good is a palace built on my dead?

What good is the land drenched in their blood so red?

What good is the air mingled with their screams and ashes?

What good is life itself, full of agony and gashes?

Eventually, fear holds me tight across

I fear not death, I fear the irreparable loss

No, I’d rather beg and shed my pride

Before by such wickedness I abide.

My mind is completely baffled, what do I do?

Should I fight or not, I have no clue

I yell, I howl, I cry my eyes out

I’m on the verge of madness in my body, throughout.

It’s a pity that I, a Dronashishya, feel this way

But what can I do to get out of my horror anyway?

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Alright, I’ve decided and so, teary-eyed,

 I put my sacred Gandiva aside.

My divine charioteer turns back and begins:

“Since when did defending man’s salvation count as sins?

Be wise, for the wise are always strong.”

And then, he sings me his eternal song.

“Our souls are travelers, O Partha, the Earth their refuge

Their home is the Brahmaan, infinite and huge

They are unhurt by weapons, unburnt by fire

Unaffected by water or wind, nor dressed in any attire.

Immortal they are, have always been and shall always be

How do I know this? Because they are a part of me

The reins of your horses, the result of the war

Both lie in my hands, so what’s that fear for?

Therefore arise, O Arjuna, this is your call

To save humanity from its downfall

Fulfill your destiny, uphold your duty true

And I will not let sin even trace you.”

My bewilderment untwines by the magic of his song

I realize that wrong done by loved ones is still wrong

So, with the courage of a warrior and with the speed of light

I fly into the battlefield to fight.”

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