O Duryodhana! Why are you travelling with all these sighs?”
‘Duryodhana replied, “O maternal uncle!8 I saw the entire earth brought under
Yudhishthira’s suzerainty, conquered with the power and weapons of the great-souled one
with white horses.9 I witnessed the sacrifice of Partha,10 like that of the immensely radiant
Shakra among the gods. I am full of envy and am burning day and night. I am drying up like
a shallow pond in the hot season.11 Witness—when Shishupala was felled by the foremost of
the Satvatas,12 there wasn’t a single man who stood by his side. The kings were burnt with
the flames of the Pandavas and pardoned the crime. Who can pardon that crime? Vasudeva’s
great deed was improper and succeeded only because of the power of the great-souled
Pandavas. Various kings brought many jewels to King Kounteya13 and worshipped him, like
vaishyas who pay taxes. On seeing the blazing prosperity of the Pandavas, I am afflicted with
jealousy and am burning, though I am not made that way. I will throw myself into the fire, or
consume poison, or immerse myself in water. I cannot bear to be alive. What true man in the
worlds has the fortitude to see his rivals prosper, while his own self is in decline? If today I
bore the prosperity that has befallen them, I would not be a woman, or one who is not a
woman, or a man, or one who is not a man. On witnessing their lordship over the earth, the
likes of their riches and the likes of their sacrifice, how can a man like me not be feverish?
Alone, I am not capable of acquiring such royal prosperity, nor do I see any help. Therefore, I
am thinking of death. On seeing the pure prosperity of Kunti’s son, I consider destiny to be
supreme and endeavour to be meaningless. O Soubala! In the past, I have made attempts to
kill him.14 But he overcame all of them and prospered like a lotus in the water. Therefore, I
consider destiny to be supreme and endeavour to be meaningless. The Dhritarashtras15 are
declining and the Parthas are always prospering. When I see their prosperity and that
beautiful sabha and the derisive laughter of the guards, I burn as if with fire. O maternal
uncle! Please allow me now to suffer in misery and tell Dhritarashtra about the envy that has
pervaded me.
CE, VOL 2