The Geeta's Teaching On Battlefield Poem by Rajendra Prasad Meena Jaipur India

Both armies stood in open sight,
Pandavas left, Kauravas right.
Conches blew, the flags flew high,
Dust rose beneath the burning sky.

Arjuna saw his own and dear—
His teachers, cousins, faces near.
His hands grew weak, his bow slipped low,
His heart was filled with grief and woe.

'How can I fight? ' Arjuna cried,
'When kin and elders stand this side?
This war will only end in pain,
In loss, in tears, in endless stain.'

He dropped his bow, he lost his will,
His mind confused, his courage still.
He turned to Krishna, calm and bright,
Who stood as charioteer of light.

Then Krishna spoke, serene and clear,
Words that the world would forever hear:
'Grieve not, O Arjuna, stand and see—
The soul is deathless, ever free.

Bodies change, but the Self is one,
Unborn, undying—never gone.
Do your duty without fear,
Without desire for gain or tear.

Act, but leave the fruits aside—
This is yoga, ' Krishna replied.
'He who works with steady mind,
To joy and sorrow both resigned,
Who serves through action, pure and true—
Such a soul is dear to Me.'

Arjuna listened, doubt grew less,
His heart was filled with quietness.
The bow rose firm within his hand,
He chose to fight, to rightly stand.

Thus spoke the Gita, deep and wide—
A guide for life, a moral light.
Not just for war or ancient days,
But for all paths, all human ways.

By Rajendra Prasad Meena Jaipur India