When the sun rose next morning, Duryodhana wondered if the day would turn the tide in his favour. As for Bheeshma, he was now determined to overpower the Pandava army so as not to provoke Duryodhana’s ire again. So, as he ordered his army to advance into the enemy ranks, his arrows began to mow down anyone who stood up against him.
On another front, Bheema was excited to see Duryodhana and his supporters trying to engage Abhimanyu, who fought with extraordinary valour. Many felt that his bow had greater fire than his father’s Gandiva. On seeing him outnumbered by Duryodhana’s brothers, Bheema rushed to the spot.
Duryodhana now made a strategic retreat, but he returned with a large force of elephants, hoping to rout Bheema and his soldiers. But Bheema proved more than a match for Duryodhana. Jumping off his chariot, he rushed towards the elephants, brandishing his mace and roaring. He then started to pummel the animals, who panicked and began to run helter-skelter. In the stampede that followed, the elephants trampled several of Duryodhana’s own soldiers. But since Bheema was determined to wipe out the entire horde of these animals, he kept hitting them with his mace till all of them dropped dead on the ground. Duryodhana felt utterly frustrated to see all of his elephants killed.
Bheema then decided to take on Duryodhana’s brothers. Back into his chariot, he ordered Visoka, his charioteer, to drive at full speed into the enemy ranks. This time, he used his bow and arrows to fight Duryodhana’s brothers. In just a little while, he had killed eight of them.
‘Where are the rest of your brothers?’ Bheema shouted at Duryodhana. ‘I want to get them all.’
Duryodhana was somewhat relieved to see Bhagadatta, the king of Pragjyotisha, riding towards him on his invincible elephant, Suprinika. Bheema now turned towards Duryodhana’s ally, brandishing his mace. But he noticed that his enemy’s elephant was as valiant a fighter as his master. Suprinika swished its trunk around as if it were its mace. In the course of this duel, an arrow from Bhagadatta’s bow hit Bheema’s chest and he fell into a swoon. This led to a commotion in the Pandava ranks. On learning that his father had fainted, Ghatotkacha rushed to the spot. Infuriated over his father’s condition, he leapt at Bhagadatta’s elephant like a wild boar. In a few moments, the gigantic beast realized that it was pitted against a tough adversary.
By this time, Bheema had regained his consciousness. He was overjoyed to see his son holding at bay an entire division of the Kauravas. When both Bheema and Ghatotkacha joined hands to fight the Kauravas, Duryodhana realized that he had lost yet another day.
Word now reached Bheeshma that Bheema’s rakshasa son was killing his soldiers as if they were cattle. At once, he drove his chariot to the spot. Duryodhana now felt rejuvenated to see his grandfather appear on the scene.
‘Why don’t you and Drona do something to kill that dreadful creature who is out to destroy our entire army?’ asked Duryodhana. ‘He appears to be much more devastating than even his father.’
Bheeshma responded with a wry smile.
‘You know very well that Ghatotkacha is a rakshasa who combines in himself the physical strength and the martial skill of his father.’ He paused. ‘Besides, I am now tired, and so are my soldiers. So let us call it a day and return to our tents.’
Duryodhana almost glowered at his grandfather. Then, curling his lips into a derisive grin, he snickered, ‘Return or retreat? I guess you need some rest, an old man’s refuge from battle.’
Bheeshma chose to let this pass. Duryodhana, however, was still boiling over in anger. ‘If you are too tired and unwilling to fight the Pandavas, I could ask Radheya, even at this stage, to take over – for I am determined to win this war.’
This infuriated the old warrior and he retorted: ‘Let me advise you, O Duryodhana, to dispel your fantasy of winning the war. So long as Krishna is guiding the Pandavas, there is no hope for you. A hundred times I have told you that this war is being fought not between two armies but between justice and evil.’ He paused. ‘So it is not too late even now for you to offer your hand in peace to Yudhishthira. As for myself, I have to continue fighting for Hastinapur, since this is the pledge I have given my father and my foster-mother, Satyavati.’
Infuriated, Duryodhana walked away to his tent. But all night he kept tossing and turning in bed. Then he started pacing up and down in his tent. A little later, he stepped out for a breath of fresh air. Since the lights had gone off in all the tents, he imagined everyone deep in sleep. Even the horses and elephants were resting on the ground, peacefully. As he looked at the sky, he saw the moon sailing through the clouds. The moon and the sun were two opposite ends of a spectrum, he mused. If the moon symbolized peace and rest, the sun beckoned the soldiers to battle.
‘Well, I don’t know what tomorrow holds out for me,’ he sighed to himself and returned to his tent.