शल्यपर्वणि प्रथमाध्यायः — Karṇa-vadha-anantaraṃ Śalya-niyogaḥ, Saṃjayasya Dhṛtarāṣṭra-nivedanam
प्रलापयुक्त महति चित्रन्यस्तं पटे यथा । नृपश्रेष्ठ॒ उस समय वह क्रूरतापूर्ण वचन सुनकर कुरुकुलकी समस्त स्त्रियाँ और गान्धारी देवी सहसा पृथ्वीपर गिर गयीं, राजपरिवारके सभी लोग अपनी सुध-बुध खोकर धरतीपर गिर पड़े और प्रलाप करने लगे। वे ऐसे जान पड़ते थे मानो विशाल पटपर अंकित किये गये चित्र हों
pralāpayuktaṁ mahati citranyastaṁ paṭe yathā | nṛpaśreṣṭha us samaya vah krūratāpūrṇa vacana sunkar kurukulakī samasta striyāṁ aur gāndhārī devī sahasā pṛthvīpar gir gayīṁ, rājaparivārake sabhī log apanī sudha-budha khokar dhartīpar gir paṛe aur pralāpa karne lage | ve aise jān paṛte the mano viśāl paṭpar aṅkita kiye gaye citra hoṁ |
Vaiśampāyana said: O best of kings, on hearing those cruel words, all the women of the Kuru house—together with Queen Gāndhārī—suddenly fell to the ground. The entire royal family, losing sense and self-control, collapsed upon the earth and began to wail. They appeared like figures painted on a vast canvas—motionless, stunned by grief—showing how harsh speech in the wake of war deepens suffering and shatters restraint.
वैशम्पायन उवाच
The verse highlights the ethical weight of speech: cruel or harsh words, especially amid catastrophe, intensify trauma and can break a community’s composure. Restraint (dama) and compassion in speech are implied as dharmic virtues when grief is already overwhelming.
After hearing a cruel statement (contextually, news and words connected to the war’s devastation), the Kuru household—its women and Queen Gāndhārī—collapse to the ground, lose awareness, and wail. The poet uses a simile: they look like painted figures on a large canvas, stunned and motionless in shock.