As Arjuna and Krishna approached their tents after defeating the Trigartas, they saw a pall of gloom hanging over the Pandava camp.
‘I had already told you on the way, O Lord, that something tragic might have happened in our absence. There, don’t you see a pall of ominous silence hanging over our camp?’
‘Is your imagination still haunting you?’ responded Krishna. ‘The blood that you saw oozing from the morning sun!’
‘Maybe. I hope my brothers are safe, particularly Yudhishthira, who needs my protection all the time. But I had to accept the Trigartas’ challenge. I wonder if they had laid a trap to detain me far away from the main battlefield.’
Krishna smiled. ‘There you go again, feeling worried for no reason. I think all is well in our camp.’
But as their chariot drew close to Yudhishthira’s tent, Arjuna’s apprehensions deepened. ‘Why hasn’t anyone come out to receive us?’ he asked Krishna. ‘And where is Abhimanyu, who always runs up to welcome me at the end of the day?’
Inside Yudhishthira’s tent, they both saw everyone’s face wan and sorrowful. Tears were streaming down Yudhishthira’s face and Bheema was trying to console him.
‘What has happened?’ Arjuna asked anxiously. ‘Where is my Abhimanyu?’ He paused. ‘On our way back, I saw that Drona had formed his army in the chakravyuha shape, something that cannot be breached by anyone except myself. Of course, Abhimanyu knows the secret of breaching its outer circle, but he does not know how to negotiate his way out.’ Another pause. ‘Tell me, brother Yudhishthira, did you ask my boy to break through the vyuha? Where is he? Where?’
The last word resounded like an echo that spiralled up to the sky. Arjuna’s eyes were now flaming red and his throat was choked.
‘Gone to heaven,’ replied Yudhishthira. His voice was a broken reed and his hands were quaking. ‘Because I sent him into the jaws of death for a purely selfish reason – to save my army from annihilation at the hands of Drona. It seemed he was out to kill all my soldiers by sunset.’ He sighed. ‘But should I have offered that innocent child as a sacrifice to reclaim my kingdom? I am the real killer, O Arjuna. Kill me right now, right here. If he was your child, wasn’t he my nephew too? Wasn’t he like a bud that had not yet fully bloomed? I am the cursed sinner, O Arjuna.’
But as he was speaking, he noticed that Arjuna had swooned. He looked like a bird shot down by a hunter, now gasping for breath with its beak open and its eyes half closed. Immediately, Bheema leapt to his feet, brought some water and sprinkled it on Arjuna’s face. When he regained his consciousness, Arjuna stammered: ‘How did it happen? Tell me everything. Was he killed in a single combat or was he hounded down by a band of assassins?’ He broke off, unable to speak any more. In his mind’s eye now surged the image of his son lying on the ground in a pool of blood. After a few moments, he resumed, ‘How I wish Subhadra had not dozed off when I was telling her how one could break out of the vyuha. Then Abhimanyu would have emerged from the chakravyuha, unhurt. As for his valour, he could have fought against an entire army.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Tell me who crushed this young flower before it had time to blossom. Was it Drona, Radheya or Duryodhana? I will not rest till my Gandiva has shed the blood of my son’s killer. Blood for blood!’
It was Bheema who narrated how Abhimanyu was trapped and killed treacherously; how it was Jayadratha who had stood like a wall behind Abhimanyu, making it impossible for his supporters to follow him into the vyuha. Just as Abhimanyu breached the outer circle, it closed up immediately, with Jayadratha engaging us all in a fierce battle. Thus trapped inside, he was ambushed by seven stalwarts – and slain.
‘Who were those seven murderers?’ Arjuna asked Bheema.
‘Drona, Radheya, Duryodhana, Asvatthama, Kripa, Sakuni and Duhsasana,’ replied Bheema. Then he hastened to add: ‘But the real killer was Jayadratha, who succeeded in isolating Abhimanyu from the rest of us.’
Arjuna’s eyes were now like burning coals. Grinding his teeth, he spoke in a voice that sounded like a thunderclap.
‘Then hear ye all – I vow to kill Jayadratha tomorrow, before sunset, even if Sankara himself intervenes to shield him. Yes, I shall either eliminate him or immolate myself by leaping into fire.’
All this while, Krishna stood watching the scene, steeped in silence. He then drew close to Arjuna and said, ‘O Arjuna, you forget that Abhimanyu was also my sister’s son, whom I loved dearly as my own child. So I feel as deeply grieved as yourself. You also forget that when you sought my help in Dwaraka, I committed myself to steering you through every twist and turn of life. So won’t you wait till tomorrow to see how I will help you fulfil your pledge? I will be with you all the way, not merely as your charioteer but also as your friend and guide.’
Krishna’s words did soothe Arjuna to some extent, but inside his heart were still raging flames of revenge. All night, he tossed and turned in his bed, sobbing. He remained in a state of great mental turmoil, wondering how his wife, Subhadra, would receive the news of her son’s brutal killing. Would she be able to survive the shock?
At daybreak, he somehow pulled himself together. He then twanged his Gandiva, whose sound reverberated in the atmosphere. This was followed by the clarion call of Krishna’s Panchajanya that struck terror into the hearts of the Kauravas.
When the sun rose on the fourteenth day, Jayadratha panicked because he knew that he would not be able to face Arjuna’s fury. So he ran up to Duryodhana and pleaded: ‘Let me return to my kingdom, far away from Kurukshetra. If I get there before sunset, I’d be out of Arjuna’s reach.’
But Duryodhana consoled him, saying, ‘Why are you seized with fear, O brave warrior? Your fleeing the battlefield would be taken as brazen cowardice. Well, I am here to guarantee the security of a trusted ally like you. I will have you strongly fortified, dear friend. Don’t worry.’