The battlefield of Kurukshetra was a festival of death. On the 17th day, Karna faced Arjuna. His chariot wheel sank into the mud. He stepped down to lift it. The shlokas of Parashurama’s curse flooded back: You will forget the mantras.
"Whatever you need," Duryodhana said, "I am your shadow." mrityunjay kadambari
She begged. He refused.
The arrow flew.
The Yamuna still flows past Hastinapur. Children play on its banks. They do not know of kings and curses. But sometimes, when the sunset turns the water gold, an old fisherman hears a whisper in the reeds. The battlefield of Kurukshetra was a festival of death