As the battle raged, weapons surged upward like clouds swelling to fill the sky, their tumultuous waves churning restlessly, giving the impression that the very ocean had leapt into the heavens. The sky itself became a wild forest, adorned with white parasols that shone like a hundred moons, arrows swarming as densely as locusts, and spears darting through the air like crows diving into their nests. The Kekaya warriors, their crests tossed high by flocks of herons, found themselves in distress, their garlands torn as the cries of birds echoed all around. The tumult of battle-cries, fierce and unrelenting, stirred even the daughters of the Himalaya to passion, their bodies overwhelmed by the wild uproar. Reeds along the battlefield shook and lost their feathers, as if invisible birds of mercy had swept through, leaving them stripped like dust scattered by restless winds. Amid the madness brought on by the clash of weapons, those who brought joy to the gardens of Nandana cast aside their armor and golden garments, surrendering to laughter, dance, and song. Above it all, the clamor of jingling bells rang out, mingling with the relentless shower of weapons. Driven by the storm-wind of arrows, the dust rose and whirled, cloaking the field in confusion. The Kauravas, battered by Shaiva weapons and struck by spinning spears, lay shattered—like corpses lifted skyward, they resembled celestial beings in their stillness. The city of the Pandavas, steadfast like the earth itself, was thrown into turmoil by the sheer vigor and movement of the heroic army. The warriors of Uddehaka were overwhelmed by the intoxicated soldiers of Kashi, whose lances, sharp as elephant tusks, tore through them like wild elephants ravaging lotuses. The armies of Brahmavāsantaka fell beneath the whirling discs, collapsing to the ground like blossoming trees felled by mighty woodcutters. In the forest of Bhokkaṇaka, the Jaṭharas swung their axes, bringing down trees, while the lord of Bhadra, standing nearby, set the fallen forest ablaze with a rain of fiery arrows. Aged elephants of Kashi, ensnared in the tangled creepers of battle, perished unawares, consumed like dry wood in a raging fire. The warriors of Trigarta, lost in the whirlpools of conflict, became as insignificant as blades of grass; their heads scattered, they fled into the depths of the netherworld. The warriors of Magadha—slow, windless, mountain-like, and radiant as the ocean—found themselves overwhelmed, sinking dispirited into the mire like old elephants stuck in mud. On the field, Jahnu sapped the consciousness of warriors, just as sunlight wilts delicate flowers strewn along a path. The Kosalas, unable to withstand the fierce assault of the Pauravas, fell like children beneath a relentless rain of maces, spears, arrows, and javelins. Warriors, their limbs severed by arrows, fled in terror, their bodies streaming thick blood, resembling coral trees on a mountain slope. Iron arrows, tossed by the mighty wind of weapons, whirled and shone like swarms of bees dancing above the ocean. Clouds of arrows, dark as monsoon clouds, filled the sky with foaming shafts; trees became covered with arrow-feathers, trembling and roaring with the force of their discharge. Ancient forests and their creatures were shattered by the onslaught, breaking apart like delicate threads stretched to their limits. Crowds of people fell upon the chariots, whose wheels stood upright and whose warriors’ heads were buried or raised, like clouds descending upon forested mountains. Reaching the dense forest of sal and palmyra, the battlefield became a thicket of bodies, a wild grove where severed arms rose like upturned trunks. Meanwhile, beautiful women, intoxicated by youth, rejoiced in the gardens and groves of Mount Meru, sheltered by the greatest of heroes. The lofty forest of warriors blazed with the tumult of battle-cries, until it was overrun by the enemy, burning with the force of a world-ending fire. Some, their weapons seized by the Huns and joined by demons, struck down their foes and fled to the Karnas and Dasharnas, like birds seeking water. The Kashi warriors, their voices broken and their splendor dimmed by the might of the Tajika troops, withered like lotuses in a sun-dried stream. Encircled by belts of arrows, spears, lances, and maces, they fled, cast into a hell known as Karkota’s domain. The Kurukshetra warriors, surrounded by ascetics disguised as fighters, became powerless, like virtues overwhelmed by wickedness. The Dravidians, swift as the wind, took the heads of the banyan-tree dwellers with their arrows and fled in an instant, like lotuses plucked from a pond. Just as Sarasvati and Aditya achieved victory from beginning to end, so too did these warriors—like learned scholars in debate—remain undisturbed and undefeated. The gates of the battlefield were blocked by heaps of broken debris and small mounds; supreme brilliance flickered, like fires extinguished for lack of fuel. How much of this can truly be told? When even the mass of tongues is thick with saliva from agitation, not even the mighty serpent Vasuki could recount the full glory and terror of this field of battle. Thus, the exceedingly tumultuous battle raged on, fierce warriors clashing in chaos, the din unrestrained from beginning to end, resounding with loud, harsh clamor. Stones flew in showers, warriors rose and fell, rivers churned with missiles, and rows of lotuses were scattered by the uproar. In the sky, warriors met one another with fruits, blazing tips, and sparks of fire, their missiles falling far and wide in rivers of arrows. Waves of severed heads, feet, and lotus wheels swirled together, the ocean of battle filled with streams of weapons and rivers like the Mandakini. At the gates, dense clouds of powdered weapons, stirred by the wind, afflicted the bodies of the accomplished, causing pain even to monkeys and tortoises. Amid this, a hero, his form sweetened by valor but diminished by the blows of weapons, shone with only a fraction of his former brilliance. As the sun set, the armies, their horses exhausted, their foremost weapons shattered, and their radiance faded, grew faint in their splendor, their glory dimming along with the day.