Duryodhana's Last Word

He lies near the stinking pond

filled with guts and blood;

all around him--devastation and death.

Himself a half-carcass,

his thighs and testes smashed

by Bhima's illegitimate blow,

broken in several places,

left to die,

his twisted face lights up again

at the macabre apparition--

Ashwatthama.

And as this angel of death

narrates the tale of the final

slaughter--how he stole into

the Pandava tents after dusk

putting to the sword

every man, woman and child,

Duryodhana's smashed, bleeding,

mouth-wound replies:

“Good, good, good."

 


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  Copyright © 2005 - Makarand Paranjape