भवान्भीष्मश्च कर्णश्च कृपश्च समितिञ्जय: |
अश्वत्थामा विकर्णश्च सौमदत्तिस्तथैव च || 8||
bhavānbhīṣhmaśhcha karṇaśhcha kṛipaśhcha samitiñjayaḥ
aśhvatthāmā vikarṇaśhcha saumadattis tathaiva cha
English Translation : There are personalities like yourself, Bheeshma, Karna, Kripa, Ashwatthama, Vikarn, and Bhurishrava, who are ever victorious in battle.
Duryodhana’s Momentary Unraveling
The bitter taste of his own venomous words hung heavy in Duryodhana’s mouth. For a fleeting moment, the arrogant prince found himself rocked by the uncomfortable truth his cruel tongue had revealed.
As the scornful honorific “dwijottama” spilled from his lips, a jab meant to provoke his revered instructor Dronacharya, Duryodhana was awash in the enormity of his own ruthless ambition. The veil slipped, and he caught an unsettling glimpse of the moral wasteland to which his quest for power had led.
Past crimes and injustices perpetrated against his very own kin, the Pandava brothers, flickered through his mind’s eye. The mental onslaught of his brutal motives – humiliation, deceit, attempted fratricide – washed over Duryodhana in a sickening wave. For an instant, the cold silence from the normally implacable Dronacharya cut like reproach.
The impetuous prince felt his hubris crack as unease wormed into his core. Perhaps he had finally overstepped, pushing too far in his attempts to strip away the wise guru’s every last shred of sentiment. Dronacharya’s practiced detachment now seemed to mock Duryodhana’s own callous savagery.
But the moment of regret and self-reflection passed as swiftly as it had come. The would-be tyrant steadied himself, shoving aside his moment of disquiet with an inward snarl. Duryodhana was not one to allow flashes of conscience to override his naked thirst for domination over the Kuru kingdom – and all of Bharatvarsha, if he had his way.
The prince’s beady eyes hardened once more as he sensed Dronacharya’s attention returning to him. A familiar cruel smirk twisted Duryodhana’s lips as he launched into lauding the very generals and warriors he hoped would enact his monstrous ambitions. Like a master actor, he donned the mask of the confident warlord, shoving all disquieting notions aside.
The die was cast. If Duryodhana’s path led through an ocean of innocent blood, so be it. He would drown the innermost flickers of his remaining humanity to slake his unquenchable thirst for absolute power.