Shloka 41
शल्यपर्वणि प्रथमाध्यायः — Karṇa-vadha-anantaraṃ Śalya-niyogaḥ, Saṃjayasya Dhṛtarāṣṭra-nivedanam
निपपात महाराज शोकव्यसनकर्षित: । महाराज! उनके गिरते ही महायशस्वी विदुरजी भी शोकसंतापसे दुर्बल हो धड़ामसे गिर पड़े || ४० $ ।।
vaiśampāyana uvāca |
ni papāta mahārāja śoka-vyasana-karṣitaḥ |
viduro 'pi mahāyaśāḥ patita-mātre nṛpasya śoka-santāpa-durbalaḥ dharaṇyāṃ nipapāta |
gāndhārī ca nṛpaśreṣṭha sarvāś ca kuru-poṣitāḥ |
krūra-vākya-śravaṇāt sahasā pṛthivyāṃ nipetuḥ prajāḥ ca rāja-kula-sambandhinaḥ sarve moha-samāvṛtāḥ pralāpa-yuktā babhūvuḥ |
te mahati paṭe citra-nyastā iva dṛśyante |
Vaiśampāyana said: O king, overcome and worn down by grief and calamity, he fell to the ground. As soon as he fell, the illustrious Vidura too—his strength broken by sorrow and burning anguish—collapsed heavily. Gandhārī, and all the women of the Kuru house, hearing the cruel words, suddenly sank upon the earth; the members of the royal family, their awareness overwhelmed, fell down and began to wail. They appeared like figures painted upon a vast canvas—motionless, struck into helplessness by grief.
वैशम्पायन उवाच
Educational Q&A
The passage highlights the ethical weight of speech: cruel words can intensify suffering and destabilize even the strongest minds. It also portrays how grief, when unchecked, can overwhelm discernment (moha), reminding readers of the need for restraint, compassion, and steadiness amid catastrophe.
After hearing a harsh and painful statement, a key figure collapses from grief; Vidura, unable to bear the sorrow, also falls. Gandhārī and the Kuru women, along with the royal household, lose composure, fall to the ground, and wail—described vividly as if they were painted figures on a large canvas.