टीका

Commentary

With this verse the narrative voice shifts back to Sanjaya, who has been recounting the events on the battlefield to the blind king Dhritarashtra. After Arjuna’s long and anguished monologue spanning many verses, Sanjaya now describes the physical conclusion of that speech: Arjuna puts down his weapons and sits.

The action of casting aside the bow and arrows (“visrujya sa-sharam chaapam”) is deeply symbolic. The bow is the instrument of a warrior’s identity. For Arjuna, who was Gandiva-dhari — the bearer of the divine bow Gandiva — to set it down is not merely to pause; it is an act of profound role surrender. It is as if a king removes his crown, a priest sets down his sacred fire, a musician puts away his instrument. The thing that defines who one is has been laid aside.

The phrase “shoka-samvigna-maanasah” — his mind overwhelmed and shaken by grief — is precise in its psychology. “Samvigna” carries the sense of being agitated, disturbed, thrown into confusion. Arjuna’s grief is not a quiet sorrow; it is an active disturbance of his mental faculties. He cannot think clearly. He cannot act. He can only sit.

The image of the great warrior sitting in his chariot in the middle of two armies, with his bow beside him and his eyes full of tears, is one of the most iconic images in all of world literature. It captures the universal human experience of paralysis in the face of impossible choices — the moment when every path forward seems wrong and the only honest response is to stop.

Sanjaya’s tone in this verse is gentle and reportorial — he describes without judgment. This is fitting, for what Arjuna is experiencing is not shameful but deeply human. The Mahabharata and the Gita do not mock his grief. They honour it as the beginning of something extraordinary: the conversation that will become the Bhagavad Gita.