तत: श्वेतैर्हयैर्युक्ते महति स्यन्दने स्थितौ |
माधव: पाण्डवश्चैव दिव्यौ शङ्खौ प्रदध्मतु: || 14||
tataḥ śhvetairhayairyukte mahati syandane sthitau
mādhavaḥ pāṇḍavaśhchaiva divyau śhaṅkhau pradadhmatuḥ
tataḥ—then; śhvetaiḥ—by white; hayaiḥ—horses; yukte—yoked; mahati—glorious; syandane—chariot; sthitau—seated; mādhavaḥ—Shree Krishna, the husband of the goddess of fortune, Lakshmi; pāṇḍavaḥ—Arjun; cha—and; eva—also; divyau—Divine; śhaṅkhau—conch shells; pradadhmatuḥ—blew
Translation:
Whereupon Mādhava and Pāndava, seated in their magnificent chariot yoked to white horses, also blew their celestial conchs.
Then, seated in a magnificent chariot drawn by white horses, Lord Krishna and Arjuna blew their celestial conches to signal the start of the battle.
Arjuna’s chariot was very large and exceptional in every way. It was covered entirely with a plate of gold, making it look bright and beautiful, and it was very strong. Flags adorned the chariot on all sides, with small tinkling bells attached to them. The wheels were large and sturdy. A high flag with emblems of the moon and stars glittered like lightning, and the figure of Lord Hanuman was placed on it. Sanjaya reported to Duryodhana that this flag was so large that it covered a distance of a Yojana (approximately 8 miles) in both height and length. The flag was as colorful as a rainbow in the clouds. Despite its large size, it was very light and could pass through clusters of trees without being touched.
Four celestial horses were yoked to this chariot, all of them white, beautiful, well-decorated, well-trained, strong, and swift. These horses were part of a hundred celestial horses that Arjuna received as a gift from the Gandharva king, Citraratha. The special quality of these horses was that no matter how many were killed in battle, their total number always remained at one hundred. Moreover, these horses could travel anywhere on Earth and in heaven. The same was true of the chariot, which was a gift from the Fire-god to Arjuna after the burning of the Khandava forest.
Seated on this glorious chariot, when Lord Krishna and the great warrior Arjuna heard the tumultuous noise of conches and drums from the Kaurava army, including the great Bhishma, they too blew their conches to announce the start of the battle. The conches belonging to Lord Krishna and Arjuna were no ordinary conches; they were extraordinary, brilliant, and uncommon, which is why they were called “celestial conches.”
पाञ्चजन्यं हृषीकेशो देवदत्तं धनञ्जय: |
पौण्ड्रं दध्मौ महाशङ्खं भीमकर्मा वृकोदर: || 15||
अनन्तविजयं राजा कुन्तीपुत्रो युधिष्ठिर: |
नकुल: सहदेवश्च सुघोषमणिपुष्पकौ || 16||
pāñchajanyaṁ hṛiṣhīkeśho devadattaṁ dhanañjayaḥ
pauṇḍraṁ dadhmau mahā-śhaṅkhaṁ bhīma-karmā vṛikodaraḥ
anantavijayaṁ rājā kuntī-putro yudhiṣhṭhiraḥ
nakulaḥ sahadevaśhcha sughoṣha-maṇipuṣhpakau
pāñchajanyam—the conch shell named Panchajanya; hṛiṣhīka-īśhaḥ—Shree Krishna, the Lord of the mind and senses; devadattam—the conch shell named Devadutta; dhanañ-jayaḥ—Arjun, winner of wealth; pauṇḍram—the conch named Paundra; dadhmau—blew; mahā-śhaṅkham—mighty conch; bhīma-karmā—one who performs herculean tasks; vṛika-udaraḥ—Bheem, the voracious eater; ananta-vijayam—the conch named Anantavijay; rājā—king; kuntī-putraḥ—son of Kunti; yudhiṣhṭhiraḥ—Yudhishthir; nakulaḥ—Nakul; sahadevaḥ—Sahadev; cha—and; sughoṣha-maṇipuṣhpakau—the conche shells named Sughosh and Manipushpak
Translation:
Hrishikeśa blew His conch, the Pānchajanya; Dhananjaya, the Devadatta; and Vrikodara, the doer of fearful deeds, blew his great conch, the Paundra. King Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, blew his conch, the Anantavijaya; and Nakula and Sahadeva blew the Sughosha and the Manipushpaka.
Lord Krishna blew His conch named Panchajanya, Arjuna blew his conch named Devadatta, and Bhima, known for his terrific valiant deeds, blew his mighty conch, Paundra.
“Hrishikesha” means the Lord or Controller of the senses, and one of Lord Krishna’s names is “Hrishikesha,” as He is the master of the senses and the repository of joy, happiness, and power. Lord Krishna obtained the Panchajanya conch after killing a demon named Panchajana, who took the form of a conch. That is why His conch was named Panchajanya.
During the Rajasuya sacrifice, Arjuna conquered many kingdoms and brought immense wealth to the Pandava capital, earning him the title of “Dhananjaya.” He obtained the conch named “Devadatta” from Indra, the King of Heaven when he went there to fight the Nivatakavachas and other demons. The sound of this conch was so loud and terrifying that it struck fear into the hearts of enemy soldiers.
The second Pandava, Bhima, was known for his exceptional physical strength and deeds that caused terror in the hearts of those who witnessed or heard of them. This earned him the name “Bhima of terrific valiant deeds.” He was also a great eater with extraordinary digestive power, which gave him the name “Vrikodara.” Bhima possessed a very large conch, whose sound reverberated over a long distance, which is why it was called a “mighty conch.”
Among the five sons of Pandu, Yudhishthira, Bhima, and Arjuna were born to his first wife, Kunti. Nakula and Sahadeva were the sons of his second wife, Madri. In this verse, the names of Nakula and Sahadeva appear, but Yudhishthira is referred to as the “son of Kunti” to show that they were not all born of the same mother.
Even though Yudhishthira had no kingdom at the time of the war, he had previously conquered many kings during the Rajasuya sacrifice and assumed the position of Emperor. Sanjaya believed that after the war, Yudhishthira would once again assume sovereignty. Even at the time Sanjaya spoke these words, Yudhishthira had all the marks of a king, which is why Sanjaya added the title of “King” to his name.
Lord Krishna’s blowing of the conch was a response to Bhishma’s deafening conch sound. It was not a reaction but an acceptance of the challenge. In the first chapter of the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna’s blowing of the Panchajanya conch and Arjuna’s blowing of the Devadatta conch signify a proclamation, not an initiation of war or fighting.
The conch blowing represents an acceptance of the challenge presented by life. Life constantly presents challenges, and the one who does not accept them loses vitality. Accepting challenges can be done in two ways: with anger, leading to a reaction, or with joy and happiness, leading to a response. Bhishma’s conch blowing was done with joy, spreading happiness, signifying acceptance.
Krishna and the Pandavas’ blowing of the conches is a response to the challenge posed by the Kauravas. The responsibility for starting the war lies with the Kauravas, not the Pandavas. The Pandavas are merely responding, showing that they are ready to answer the call for battle.
It is also significant that Krishna initiated the response. Although Bhishma started the conch blowing, it was appropriate for Krishna to respond, as He was there as a charioteer, not a warrior. This symbolizes that the Pandavas see the war as a responsibility imposed by divine will, and they are prepared to fight only as instruments of God.
If Bhima had blown the conch, it might have been out of anger. But Krishna’s response was joyful acceptance, showing that the Pandavas were leaving their fate in God’s hands. This fight is not their own but God’s, and they are willing to accept whatever comes, even joyful defeat. There is no anger, only acceptance.
In scientific achievement, a person has something of his own. But how the unknown enters into this scientific achievement becomes a matter of concern! It generally seems that in scientific research, a person’s own will works; this is what it seems when seen from the surface; it will not seem so when seen from within. If we look at the world’s greatest scientists, we will be very surprised. All the world’s greatest scientists have had very different experiences. Their experience is not like the concept of science that is created in colleges and universities.
Madam Curie has written that a question has been troubling me for days. I try to solve it, but it does not get solved. I am tired, I am troubled, finally I have given up on solving it. And one night at two o’clock, I went to sleep leaving the paper incomplete on the table and thought that now I have to leave this question. The person is tired. But when I woke up in the morning, I saw that the question I had left halfway was completed in the morning. No one came into the room; the doors were closed. And there is no possibility that someone could come into the room and solve it, which Madam Curie could not solve. That woman was a Nobel Prize winner. There were only servants in the house, and there was no hope from them. It would be a bigger miracle if servants could come and solve it. But it has been solved. And only half was left, and half is complete. Then she got into a big problem. She looked at all the doors. She could not even believe that God had descended. God had not descended from above like this. But when she looked carefully, she found that the rest of the letters were also hers. Then she started remembering that she woke up in a dream at night. She remembered the dream that she woke up in a dream. She dreamt that she was solving a question. She woke up in the night and solved the question. Then it became her systematic method that when she could not solve a question, she would put it under the pillow and go to sleep; she would wake up at night and solve it.
Madam Curie was an individual throughout the day. At night, in sleep, the ego is lost, the drop merges with the ocean. And the question that our conscious mind could not solve, our unconscious mind, which is deeply connected to God, can solve it.
Archimedes was trying to solve a question but was in great difficulty. The emperor had said, bring it only after solving it. Archimedes’ entire reputation depended on solving it, but he got tired. Every day the emperor’s message would come asking how long will you solve it? Someone had gifted the emperor a very valuable gold ornament. But the emperor suspected that he had been cheated and that something had been mixed with the gold. But he had to find out whether any other metal had been mixed in it without destroying the ornament! At that time, there was no way to know. And the ornament was big. If something had been put inside it somewhere, then its weight would definitely increase.
Archimedes got tired, got worried. Then one morning, he was lying in his tub, lying there! Suddenly, he was naked, and the question was solved. He ran away! I forgot to put on the cloth because the question was solved! He ran away shouting “Eureka! Eureka!” to tell the emperor that the question was solved.
The story of Archimedes illustrates the mysterious interplay between conscious effort and unconscious insight. Despite all his intense concentration and rational thinking, it was in a moment of relaxation, when his mind was not consciously engaged in the problem, that the solution came to him. This experience reflects how, sometimes, the unconscious mind, deeply connected to a larger universal intelligence, can provide answers that the conscious mind struggles to find.
Archimedes discovered the principle of buoyancy while bathing, noticing that the water level in the tub rose as he submerged himself. This insight led him to realize that the volume of water displaced must be equal to the volume of the object submerged, providing a way to measure the density of the crown and determine if it was made of pure gold or mixed with another metal. This spontaneous revelation in a moment of relaxation underscores the importance of allowing the mind to rest and connect with deeper, often unseen, sources of wisdom.
The story of Archimedes, like the experiences of other great thinkers and scientists, shows that profound insights often emerge from the unconscious mind. These moments of realization are not purely the result of logical reasoning or deliberate thought processes. Instead, they arise when the conscious mind steps back, allowing the deeper layers of the psyche, connected to the unknown or the universal consciousness, to bring forth the solution.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna advises Arjuna to surrender his ego and act as an instrument of the divine will. This teaching can be extended to the realm of intellectual pursuits, where surrendering personal will and allowing the unknown to work through us can lead to profound discoveries. The conscious mind, with its limitations, may struggle to find answers, but when it aligns with the greater flow of the universe, insights can arise effortlessly.
The concept of surrender, as taught in spiritual traditions, is not about giving up effort or abandoning one’s responsibilities. Rather, it is about recognizing the limits of personal will and ego and opening oneself to the guidance of a higher intelligence. In both spiritual practice and intellectual pursuits, surrendering to the unknown allows us to transcend our limited perspective and connect with a greater source of wisdom and creativity.
In the battlefield of Kurukshetra, Arjuna’s initial reluctance to fight stemmed from his attachment to personal desires and relationships. Krishna’s teachings urged him to rise above his individual concerns and act in accordance with the cosmic order. Similarly, in the realm of science and creativity, when individuals set aside their personal ego and open themselves to the flow of the unknown, they can achieve remarkable breakthroughs.
While surrender is essential, it does not mean abandoning effort. Both effort and surrender must coexist in a delicate balance. In the stories of Archimedes and other great scientists, we see that intense effort and focus were necessary for their discoveries. However, it was in moments of relaxation or surrender, when they were not actively trying to solve the problem, that the final insight emerged.
This balance is reflected in the practice of meditation, where effort is required to focus the mind, but true insight often arises when the meditator surrenders the effort and allows the mind to rest in stillness. The conscious mind works hard to gather knowledge and explore possibilities, but it is in surrender that the deeper understanding comes.
The stories of Archimedes, Madam Curie, and other great thinkers remind us of the importance of balancing effort with surrender. Whether in scientific research, creative endeavors, or spiritual practice, allowing the unknown to work through us can lead to profound insights and breakthroughs. By aligning ourselves with the greater flow of the universe, we can transcend the limitations of the conscious mind and connect with a deeper source of wisdom.
Just as Krishna advised Arjuna to act as an instrument of the divine will, we too can approach our pursuits with humility and openness, trusting that the unknown will guide us to the answers we seek.