Shloka 2
ध्वजद्रुमं शस्त्रशुड्रंं हतनागमहाशिलम् । अश्वकिम्पुरुषाकीर्ण शरासनलतावृतम्,उसने शत्रु-सैनिकोंको भल्लोंसे मार-मारकर उनकी लाशोंका पहाड़-जैसा ढेर लगा दिया। ध्वजाएँ उस पहाड़के वृक्ष, शस्त्र उसके शिखर और मारे गये हाथी उसकी बड़ी-बड़ी शिलाओंके समान थे। घोड़े मानो उस पर्वतपर निवास करनेवाले किम्पुरुष थे। धनुष लताओंके समान फैलकर उसपर छाये हुए थे। मांसभक्षी जीव-जन्तु मानो वहाँ चहचहानेवाले पक्षी थे और भूतोंके समुदाय उसपर विहार करनेवाले यक्ष जान पड़ते थे
sañjaya uvāca | dhvajadrumaṁ śastraśṛṅgaṁ hatanāgamahāśilam | aśvakimpuruṣākīrṇaṁ śarāsanalatāvṛtam |
Sañjaya said: “The battlefield appeared like a mountain: its trees were the standards and banners, its peaks were weapons, and its great boulders were the huge bodies of slain elephants. It was crowded with horses like kimpuruṣas dwelling on that mountain, and it was overgrown and covered with bow-strings and bows like spreading creepers.” In this grim image, the poet underscores how war turns living order into a distorted ‘landscape’ of death—an ethical warning about the dehumanizing momentum of violence even amid heroic duty.
संजय उवाच
Educational Q&A
Through an extended simile—battlefield as a mountain made of banners, weapons, and dead elephants—the verse highlights how warfare reshapes reality into a grotesque ‘natural’ scene. The ethical undertone is cautionary: even when framed as duty, violence can normalize death and obscure human suffering behind grand imagery.
Sañjaya reports the scene of intense fighting: the ground is piled with slain elephants and strewn with weapons; banners stand like trees; horses move about like mythical kimpuruṣas; bows and archery-gear seem to cover the field like creeping vines. It is a vivid snapshot of the battlefield’s aftermath and ongoing chaos.