Arrows and swords pierced the young warrior’s chest and blood flowed down his body. His screams horrified all the warriors who stood on the battlefield, gazing at the greatest warrior who fought all the Maharatis alone. Guru Dronacharya closed his eyes, as tears rolled down his cheeks and fired another arrow at Abhimanyu.
“I am the son of Arjun, do not expect me to give up. Whatever the end maybe, I would fight till my last breath. Fight each one of you.” echoed the ferocious voice of Abhimanyu in the Chakravyuh. Unbearable pain rushed when Ashwathamma pierced a sword right through his back. The evil laughs of Ashwathamma, Duryodhan, and Shakuni suppressed the screams of Abhimanyu.
Abhimanyu closed his eyes and gathered up all his strength and courage to fight back. All the Maharatis had stepped down from their chariots. Some wanted to take revenge while others were bound with promises or circumstances. Abhimanyu raised his bow, muttered a mantra, and fired a shower of arrows at each warrior.
He turned and glanced at the Pandavas, all defeated by Jayadrath. They were afraid and grief-stricken, crying and praying for the life of Abhimanyu. He nodded at Yudhisthir, assuring him of his strength, and looked ferociously at all the Maharathis surrounding him. All of them raised their weapons at him. He pointed his bow at the sky and muttered a mantra pulling out a broad-headed arrow resembling a snake and released it at Lakshmana, Duryodhan’s son. Before the warriors could attack him, the arrow had pierced Lakshmana’s head. Devastated and furious at the death of his son, Duryodhan ran towards Abhimanyu and stabbed him with his silver sword. Dronacharya lowered his bow and closed his eyes, unable to witness the sight.
“Make him suffer. Do not kill him until the sunsets. Let each arrow pierce his body and let each sword wound him to death. He killed my son, do not spare him. Let him cry and beg for his life, let him suffer every moment before death. I want to hear his horrifying screams” ordered Duryodhan as he cruelly twisted the sword in his abdomen and pulled it out of his body with a scream as a thunderbolt.
Attacked by the greatest warriors- Karna, Drona, Ashwathamma, Shakuni, Kripacharya, and other ferocious warriors on the command of Duryodhan, all at once, Abhimanyu fell to the ground. Karna stepped and cut his bow, depriving him of his weapon. The battleground was still as the soldiers withdrew from their fights as every warrior on the field of Kurukshetra halted to witness the end of Abhimanyu. The laughter of the Kauravas echoed as Abhimanyu lay on the ground, breathing heavily.
“would you die so soon?” mocked Duryodhan. With courage and agility, Abhimanyu rushed as lightning and picked up the sword lying on the ground. In a split of a second, he beheaded one of the warriors and picked up the wheel of his broken chariot as his shield. The Pandavas roared at the brutal rebound of Arjun’s son. The Kauravas began showering their arrows at him as he blocked each of the attacks with the wheel. Drona nodded at Karna as both the warriors skilled with the bow stepped ahead and began the slaughter with their arrows. As the pain grew in intensity, Abhimanyu could no longer resist the attack. With a loud thud, the wheel fell on the floor. The son of Duhsasana descended from his chariot, his golden mace sliding on the sand as he walked towards him. Brutally he kicked Abhimanyu on his chest. The young warrior fell to the ground and just as he was rising back, the son of Duhsasana struck him on the head with the mace. Dronacharya and Karna bowed their heads at the death of the warrior as the Kaurava army roared with victory.
Karna walked to Abhimanyu and whispered to the dying warrior “Abhimanyu, I bow at you. I salute your courage and bravery. You have left a remarkable legacy son. The world would not remember me as the greatest warrior and nor would they know your father as the greatest. Cause today you proved that YOU are truly the greatest warrior of the time.” Abhimanyu smiled at Karna and shifted his gaze at Guru Drona as he approached him.
” Tell my father, I did not let him down even in my last breaths. Convey my love for my mother, let her know that her son was a warrior who did not give up. And to Uttara, do not let her lament my death. Instead, give her the strength to mold our child into the greatest warrior just as my father. He must be proud of his father and must continue the legacy of Arjuna just as I did. And to all the Pandavas and Krishna, let them know that I respect them and I am forever grateful for all the strength and courage they instilled in me.”
“Son, you defeated all the greatest warriors of the Kauravas just by your courage. I bow at you, at your bravery. I salute your mind, a mind so brave that it took all the warriors to fight together against you to defeat you. So was your splendor that while dying, you made all of us, though blessed with strength and weapons appear to be cowards. The victory isn’t ours, it is all yours cause you made every warrior bow at you. Your father will be proud of you. And each one of us will suffer the sin. We had to attack you by breaking all the rules of the war, cause it was impossible to defeat you otherwise. The world will know you as the greatest warrior of the time, a warrior at which the world bows.”
Abhimanyu faintly smiled at Drona and glanced at the battle field. All the soldiers and the warriors had their head down, each one of them pouring in their condolence and bowing at the bravery of the young warrior. He then glanced at the Pandavas, each one of them greiving their loss. Even Duryodhan’s laugh had subsided as respect for the dying warrior. The sun was setting and the darkness was consuming the sky as Abhimanyu took a deep breathe and closed his eyes. All his pains and sufferings were over as he transcended into the abode of heaven, leaving behind a remarkable story of courage and bravery for generations to come. On this 13th day of the Kurukshetra battle, a legend died, leaving behind a legacy that would inspire and strenghthen the minds of millions for centuries to come.
” We bow at you” echoed the voices of all the soldiers of the Pandavas and the Kauravas on the battle ground as the young warrior lay dead on the warm sand stained with blood.
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