(व्यूढोरस्कं कमलनयनं तप्तहेमावभासं कर्ण दृष्टवा भुवि निपतितं पार्थबाणाभितप्तम् | पांशुग्रस्तं मलिनमसकृत् पुत्रमन्वीक्षमाणो मन्द मन्दं वब्रजति सविता मन्दिरं मन्दरश्मि: ।।
sañjaya uvāca |
vyūḍhoraskaṃ kamalanayanaṃ taptahemāvabhāsaṃ karṇaṃ dṛṣṭvā bhuvi nipatitaṃ pārthabāṇābhitaptam |
pāṃśugrastaṃ malinam asakṛt putram anvīkṣamāṇo mandaṃ mandaṃ vavrajeti savitā mandiraṃ mandarāśmiḥ ||
سنجے نے کہا— چوڑی چھاتی، کنول جیسی آنکھوں اور تپے ہوئے سونے جیسی تابانی والے کرن کو، پارتھ کے تیروں سے جھلس کر زمین پر گرا ہوا، گرد میں اَٹا اور ماند پڑا دیکھ کر؛ اس کا باپ سورج دیوتا کمزور کرنوں کے ساتھ بار بار اپنے بیٹے کی طرف دیکھتا ہوا آہستہ آہستہ اپنے دھام—استاچل—کی جانب بڑھ گیا۔
संजय उवाच
The verse underscores the tragic moral cost of war: even the mightiest fall, and their fall reverberates beyond the battlefield. By portraying the Sun’s rays as dimming while he repeatedly looks upon his son, the text suggests that adharma-driven conflict brings sorrow that touches both human and cosmic orders, reminding readers that victory and loss in war are ethically weighty and never merely personal.
Sañjaya describes Karṇa lying on the ground after being struck and scorched by Arjuna’s arrows—dust-covered and lifeless. At that moment, Sūrya (Karṇa’s divine father) is imagined as watching his son again and again and then slowly setting, his rays weakened, as if the day itself darkens in grief at Karṇa’s death.