Many people hear the name Bhagavad Gita and think it is only a religious book. In reality, it is a conversation about fear, morality, responsibility, family, and inner conflict.
The story opens not with peace, but on a battlefield.
The battlefield before the storm
The vast field of Kurukshetra was covered with dust. The air itself felt tense. The red sun reflected on sharp swords and arrows as if predicting blood.
Two armies faced each other:
on one side: the Pandavas, a smaller army fighting for justice
on the other side: the Kauravas, a larger army driven by ambition
This was not just a war between kings. It was a family war. Cousins, teachers, and elders stood on opposite sides, ready to kill each other.
Everyone knew: after today, nothing would be the same.
The blind king who could not see, but could feel everything
In the capital city, the blind king Dhritarashtra sat in darkness. He had one hundred sons who were fighting in the war. He could not see the battlefield, but his heart was shaking.
He asked his charioteer and advisor Sanjaya, who had been given divine vision to see the battlefield:
“Sanjaya, tell me what is happening on the holy field of Kurukshetra.
How are my sons and the sons of my brother arranging their armies?”
There was fear in his voice. He was not just a king. He was a father terrified of losing everything.
Sanjaya replied calmly:
“My king, I can see everything. I will tell you.”
The nervous prince and the proud war cry
In the Kaurava army stood Duryodhana, the eldest son of the blind king. He was powerful but anxious. Even with a huge army behind him, his heart was not at peace.
He went to his teacher Dronacharya, the man who trained both armies in warfare, and said:
“Look, teacher. The army of our cousins is strong.
They stand under the protection of great warriors.
Why do I still feel afraid?”
At that moment, the great elder warrior Bhishma—grand-uncle to both sides—blew his conch shell loudly. The sound shook the earth and sky. Other warriors followed. War drums thundered. Horses reared. Elephants roared.
The battle was about to begin.
The heroes on the other side
On the Pandava side stood Arjuna, one of the greatest archers of his time. He was guided by his charioteer Krishna, a divine teacher and friend.
When Krishna blew his conch shell, its sound was powerful yet peaceful — strong enough to give courage, calm enough to give hope.
Arjuna blew his own conch shell.
The sound echoed across the battlefield.
But then something unexpected happened.
The warrior who broke down before the war
Arjuna said to Krishna:
“Take my chariot into the space between the two armies.
I want to see who has come here to fight.”
Krishna drove the chariot forward and stopped in the middle.
Arjuna looked around.
He saw:
his teachers who had raised him
his grandfather-figure Bhishma
his cousins and friends
people who watched him grow up
They were all ready to kill and be killed.
His bow slipped from his hand.
His body shook.
His eyes filled with tears.
He said:
“Krishna, how can I fight them?
These are my family, my teachers, my elders.
If they die, our whole family line will be destroyed.
I do not want the kingdom, victory, or power.
My heart is breaking. My mind is confused.
I cannot fight.”
Arjuna sat down inside the chariot, overwhelmed with grief.
The silence before the greatest conversation in history
Sanjaya told the blind king:
“Arjuna is drowning in despair.
He wants to give up.
Now only Krishna can answer him.”
Arjuna whispered:
“I will not fight.”
Krishna looked at him and smiled gently — calm, compassionate, mysterious.
He was about to speak.
And with his words, the Bhagavad Gita would begin.
Why this story matters today
This is not only a story about warriors.
Kurukshetra is:
your exam hall
your career choices
your emotional struggles
your inner conflict between right and easy
Arjuna represents anyone who has ever said:
“I am confused.”
“I am afraid.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
Krishna represents:
clarity
wisdom
calm guidance
courage to act
The real battle is inside the mind.
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