Arjuna disarms himself

I quit! I lay down my arms once and for all, Krishna,

this is an unjust war.

Even that old one you made me fight

equipped with the dharma of nishkama karma

was not all that ethical, you know very well.

We cheated many a time

in order to win.

We won

but Ashwatthama had the last laugh.

Who are we now fighting?

Those whose ancestors conquered our ancestors,

ruled over us,

set up their god over ours,

and wrecked our temples?

Can we remedy the ills of history that lies dead and rotten?

Can we reinstate the valour of our warriors

who were beaten thoroughly and disgracefully?

Does our present honour depend so unabashedly

on rewriting the epitaphs on ancient tombstones?

Who are we now fighting?

Those whom we kept suppressed and oppressed

worse than the animals we slaughtered to please our gods,

those who bore our shame and shamelessness

as their burden for centuries and centuries?

Does our dignity depend so much

on the indignity we heap on others?

Do we have to mount high and higher

on the bent backs of these pathetic creatures

with human shapes and enslaved souls,

enslaved by us

eternally?

No, Krishna, I quit.

I lay down the arms.

Go and utter your Gita in the ears

of the deaf warriors

whose hearts are black with toxin.

I quit.

Ashwatthama is slouching towards Indraprastha

to have the last laugh.

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