As the great assembly gathered for Draupadī’s svayaṃvara, a messenger approached Rāma and informed him about the presence of Yudhiṣṭhira, Bhīma, Arjuna, and the two valiant sons of Dharma. Rāma, observing each of them with care, saw Janārdana—Kṛṣṇa—whose heart overflowed with joy at the sight. Meanwhile, the other warriors, princes, and grandsons of kings, unsettled by the presence of Kṛṣṇā, strained to look upon the Pandavas but could not truly discern them, their faces tense, teeth clenched, and eyes burning copper-red with agitation. The sons of Pṛthā—broad-armed and mighty—along with the two heroic sons of Dharma, caught sight of Draupadī at that very moment and were struck as if pierced by the arrows of Kāma, the god of love. The hall was crowded with gods, sages, gandharvas, and was attended by Suparṇas, nāgas, asuras, and siddhas. Celestial fragrances filled the air, and divine flowers showered down from above. The sky was tumultuous, echoing with the thunderous sounds of drums and dundubhis, crowded with flying chariots, and resounding with flutes, vīṇās, and paṇavas. Above the assembly, as if surrounded by thundering clouds, groups of kings displayed their prowess for Kṛṣṇā’s sake. Karna, Duryodhana, Śālva, Śalya, Drauni, Nikṛti, Sunītha, and Vakra all stepped forward. The kings of Kaliṅga, Vaṅga, Pāṇḍya, Pauṇḍra, Videha, the lord of the Yavanas, and many other princes and grandsons of kings, rulers of realms with lotus-petal eyes, were present. These broad-armed kings, adorned with crowns, garlands, armlets, and bracelets, roared in succession, eager to display their courage and might. Yet, when they attempted the great feat of stringing the bow, they could not even imagine accomplishing it. Despite their efforts, the kings were shaken by the bow’s quivering, unyielding strength as they tried to bend it. Struggling according to their strength and skill, their vigor spent, their crowns and garlands loosened, the kings sighed in exhaustion and withdrew. The sound of the unyielding bow caused an outcry; garlands, armlets, and bracelets slipped off. Because of Kṛṣṇā, disappointment and pain filled the circle of kings. When all the Kṣatriyas had withdrawn, the powerful king of the Cedis, fierce as Death, arose. Śiśupāla, wise and radiant, son of Damaghoṣa, approached the bow and stood before the assembled kings. He tried to string it and struck it when the string was only a barleycorn’s width from the notch, but pressed by the bow’s force, he fell to his knees. Rising up, he returned to his kingdom. After him came Jarāsandha, of great strength and valor, with a neck like a conch, broad chest, and the might, stride, and speed of a maddened elephant, his eyes coppery-red. Approaching the bow, he stood firm like a mountain and struck it as he tried to string it, reaching only the measure of a mustard seed. Then Shalya, the mighty king of Madra, came forward and struck the bow as he tried to string it, reaching only the measure of a pulse grain. At that moment, the king himself arrived, not looking back, wondering which king would string this excellent bow today. Resolving in his mind, he stood again as King Duryodhana, the Kaurava, subduer of foes, proud and skilled in weapons, possessing all royal marks, rose up among his brothers. Delighted at the sight of Draupadī, Duryodhana approached the bow, shining like Indra bearing his own weapon. He began to string the bow and struck it to the measure of a sesame seed. But as he continued, the bow struck his fingers, and he fell flat on his back. Ashamed, he departed. Then Karṇa, son of a charioteer and bull among men, approached the bow and began to lift it. As he was stringing it, he struck it to the measure of a hair, renowned for his strength across the three worlds. Yet, he too was shaken off by the bow, and fear seized all. Seeing Karṇa cast aside, the heroes and best of kings lost hope of drawing the bow or winning Draupadī. As confusion spread through the assembly and the kings gave up, Arjuna, son of Kuntī and victorious in battle, prepared to string the bow with arrow. At this, the foremost among gods and asuras, wise and chief of the Vrishnis—Kṛṣṇa—rejoiced, knowing the hand of Pāṇḍu’s son was now within his grasp, as Rāma pressed his hand. Yet, the other leading kings and brahmins did not recognize the Pandavas, whose forms were concealed, except for the two foremost Yadus in the world, Dhaumya, Dharma, and their brothers. When the kings had ceased their attempts to string the bow, Arjuna, noble-minded, rose from among the brahmins. The foremost brahmins cried out, shaking their deer-skins, as Pārtha, shining like Indra’s banner, stepped forth. Some brahmins were disheartened, some filled with joy; some, skilled and wise, spoke among themselves. They wondered aloud, “This bow, renowned among men, has been handled by mighty Kshatriyas such as Karna and Shalya, who are devoted to the science of archery. How then could it be possible for one untrained in weapons, weak in body, and merely a youth, to string this bow, O twice-born ones? The Brahmanas will become a laughingstock among all kings if, out of rashness and without proper testing, this task is not accomplished. If he has come forth out of pride, arrogance, or Brahmanical impulsiveness to string the bow, let him be restrained—do not let him proceed. We must not become objects of ridicule, nor be considered insignificant, nor incur the enmity of the rulers of the earth.” Thus, the assembly waited, uncertain and anxious, as Arjuna prepared to undertake the impossible task before them all.