Bhishmapitamah, the illustrious son of Mother Ganga and a central figure in the Mahabharata, was a man of immense wisdom, virtue, and self-control. Despite being the most deserving to ascend the throne, he renounced his claim and took an eternal vow of celibacy for the sake of his father's happiness. He spent his entire life in the service of Hastinapur, upholding dharma with unwavering loyalty.
In the great war of Mahabharata, Bhishmapitamah finally fell—not by defeat, but by his own will, pierced by countless arrows that formed a bed beneath him. For six long months, he lay on this bed of arrows, enduring unbearable pain with blood dripping from every wound, waiting for the auspicious time to relinquish his mortal body—such was the boon he had from his father, Shantanu, to choose the time of his death.
In this state of extreme agony, Lord Krishna came to him, placing His divine hand gently on Bhishmapitamah’s forehead.
Bhishmapitamah, with tears in his eyes and devotion in his heart, asked the Lord:
“O Krishna, just seeing your divine form brings peace to even the most tormented soul. Sorrows disappear, and darkness turns into light. Why then, O Lord, do I still feel this pain even after having your darshan? I have practiced yoga my entire life and unlocked the knowledge of my past 40 lives, yet I find no karma there that would justify such intense suffering. Please, my Lord, speak the truth. I wish to hear the satsang from your divine voice in my final moments.”
Lord Krishna, full of compassion, replied:
“O Bhishma, you are indeed very dear to me. Your 40 past lives have been righteous. However, in your 41st previous birth, there lies a karma that cannot be ignored. In that birth, you were a proud king. One day while traveling through a forest, you encountered a female snake about to give birth. Driven by arrogance, you used your arrow to lift her and threw her onto a thorny Acacia (Babul) tree. Her body was pierced by countless thorns. In that unbearable agony, she died—but not before cursing you: ‘Whoever caused me this painful death shall also endure such excruciating pain and meet the same fate.’ This curse followed you across lifetimes and was repeatedly deferred—but it was destined to be fulfilled.”
Bhishmapitamah listened in silence, the divine truth settling over his soul.
Lord Krishna continued:
“Even then, I could have forgiven you. But your actions in this very life bound me. When Draupadi, a woman of great virtue, was humiliated in the royal court, she looked to you—her protector, her father figure—for help. And yet, in the name of your vow and allegiance to the throne, you remained silent.
A kingdom where a woman’s honor is not protected has no foundation.No dharma is greater than the protection of a woman’s dignity.Your silence, Bhishma, was your second sin—greater than the first.It was I, Krishna, who had to descend into the court to uphold dharma and save Draupadi.
Krishna looked deep into Bhishma’s eyes and said:
“Because of this sin in this very life, I could not absolve you of your past curse. You must now endure the suffering as destined. Know that your pain is not a punishment—but the completion of a karmic cycle. Once this is fulfilled, you will be free and attain the highest state of liberation.”
Bhishmapitamah bowed his head in acceptance, the divine truth settling his soul. In the embrace of pain, he found peace—knowing that his suffering was not in vain but a path to his final liberation.
Moral of the Story:
Even the most enlightened souls are bound by the consequences of their actions. Karma, whether known or forgotten, always seeks balance. Yet, divine grace comes to those who surrender completely and accept truth with humility. Above all oaths, above all loyalties—the dignity of a woman and the dharma of compassion must prevail.