SECTION 2
Vaishampayana said, "Listen, O Janamejaya, to the nectar-like words that
Vidura said unto the son of Vicitravirya and by which he gladdened that
bull among men!
"Vidura said, Rise, O king! Why art thou stretched on the earth? Bear
thyself up with thy own self. O king, even this is the final end of all
living creatures. Everything massed together ends in destruction;
everything that gets high is sure to fall down. Union is certain to end
in separation; life is sure to end in death. The destroyer, O Bharata,
drags both the hero and the coward. Why then, O bull amongst Kshatriyas,
should not Kshatriyas engage in battle? He that does not fight is seen to
escape with life. When, however, ones time comes, O king, one cannot
escape. As regards living creatures, they are non-existent at first. They
exist in the period that intervenes. In the end they once more become
non-existent. What matter of grief then is there in this? The man that
indulges in grief succeeds not in meeting with the dead. By indulging in
grief, one does not himself die. When the course of the world is such,
why dost thou indulge in sorrow? Death drags all creatures, even the
gods. There is none dear or hateful to death, O best of the Kurus! As the
wind tears off the tops of all blades of grass, even so, O bull of
Bharatas race, death overmasters all creatures. All creatures are like
members of a caravan bound for the same destination. (When death will
encounter all) it matters very little whom he meets with first. It
behoveth thee not, O king, to grieve for those that have been slain in
battle. If the scriptures are any authority, all of them must have
obtained the highest end. All of them were versed in the Vedas; all of
them had observed vows. Facing the foe all of them have met with death.
What matter of sorrow is there in this? Invisible they had been (before
birth). Having come from that unknown region, they have once more become
invisible. They are not thine, nor art thou theirs. What grief then is
there in such disappearance? If slain, one wins heaven. By slaying, fame
is won. Both these, with respect to us, are productive of great merit.
Battle, therefore, is not bootless. No doubt, Indra will contrive for
them regions capable of granting every wish. These, O bull among men,
become the guests of Indra. Men cannot, by sacrifices with profuse gifts,
by ascetic penances and by learning, go so speedily to heaven as heroes
slain in battle. On the bodies of hostile heroes constituting the
sacrificial fire, they poured their arrowy libations. Possessed of great
energy, they had in return to endure the arrowy libations (poured upon
them by their enemies). I tell thee, O king, that for a Kshatriya in this
world there is not a better road to heaven than battle! They were all
high-souled Kshatriyas; possessed of bravery, they were ornaments of
assemblies. They have attained to a high state of blessedness. They are
not persons for whom we should grieve. Comforting thyself by thy own self
cease to grieve, O bull among men! It behoveth thee not to suffer thyself
to be overwhelmed with sorrow and to abandon all actions. There are
thousands of mothers and fathers and sons and wives in this world. Whose
are they, and whose are we? From day to day thousands of causes spring up
for sorrow and thousands of causes for fear. These, however, affect the
ignorant but are nothing to him that is wise. There is none dear or
hateful to Time, O best of the Kurus! Time is indifferent to none. All
are equally dragged by Time. Time causeth all creatures to grow, and it
is Time that destroyeth everything. When all else is asleep, Time is
awake. Time is irresistible. Youth, beauty, life, possessions, health,
and the companionship of friends, all are unstable. He that is wise will
never covet any of these. It behoveth thee not to grieve for what is
universal. A person may, by indulging in grief, himself perish, but grief
itself, by being indulged in, never becomes light. Ifthou feelest thy
grief to be heavy, it should be counteracted by not indulging in it. Even
this is the medicine for grief, viz., that one should not indulge in it.
By dwelling on it, one cannot lessen it. On the other hand, it grows with
indulgence. Upon the advent of evil or upon the bereavement of something
that is dear, only they that are of little intelligence suffer their
minds to be afflicted with grief. This is neither Profit, nor Religion,
nor Happiness, on which thy heart is dwelling. The indulgence of grief is
the certain means of ones losing ones objects. Through it, one falls away
from the three great ends of life (religion, profit, and pleasure). They
that are destitute of contentment, are stupefied on the accession of
vicissitudes dependent upon the possession of wealth. They, however, that
are wise, are on the other hand, unaffected by such vicissitudes. One
should kill mental grief by wisdom, just as physical grief should be
killed by medicine. Wisdom hath this power. They, however, that are
foolish, can never obtain tranquillity of soul. The acts of a former life
closely follow a man, insomuch that they lie by him when he lies down,
stay by him when he stays, and run with him when he runs. In those
conditions of life in which one acts well or ill, one enjoys or suffers
the fruit thereof in similar conditions. In those forms (of physical
organisation) in which one performs particular acts, one enjoys or
suffers the fruits thereof in similar forms. Ones own self is ones own
friend, as, indeed, ones own self is ones own enemy. Ones own self is the
witness of ones acts, good and evil. From good acts springs a state of
happiness, from sinful deeds springs woe. One always obtains the fruit of
ones acts. One never enjoys or suffers weal or woe that is not the fruit
of ones own acts. Intelligent persons like thee, O king, never sink in
sinful enormities that are disapproved by knowledge and that strike at
the very root (of virtue and happiness)."
