Mahabharat

Great-grandsire, please accept my greetings.

If I meet you at home, I would've asked for your blessings.

But we meet on the battlefield,

therefore, I ask you to fight me.

Who are you, lad?

Where did you get your ability

and courage to face me?

Who are you, warrior?

I'm son of Pandu's son, Arjun

with Yadava's daughter, Subhadra.

Abhimanyu.

My dear uncle is Krishna.

And today

I'm here on this battlefield to challenge death.

Why don't you attack me, Great-grandsire?

No, child.

I can't attack you.

At this age, when you should be learning knowledge

instead you have to face us in battle.

This sight saddens me.

In relation with my family tree.

A new, healthy sprout.

Like a golden crown.

The new generation

shines.

That's what my dream is.

But today,

seeing the battlefield,

I feel that our family will soon perish.

I feel my whole life is a waste, child.

A great-grandfather endows knowledge

to his great-grandchildren.

He doesn't punish them.

You are my great-grandson.

I can only love you.

How can I possibly hurt you?

Go, child. Go away.

I, your great-grandson, do not admit defeat.

I won't go.

I admit my defeat, child.

Even the fact that I have to fight you,

instead of that, I choose to give in.

A family in which the youth dies,

would be felt lonely like a ruin of fire

inhabited by elders with deep guilts.

If only I were not under my oath,

then in this instance,

I would've given up my weapons and become a hermit.

Go, child.

Don't challenge me. Go.

I'm like an arrow from Arjuna's Gandiva.

Once shot from the bow, it won't get back to its storage.

Fight me. Fight me, Great-grandsire!

Your great-grandfather commands you

to go from here.

Go!

I'm sorry, Great-grandsire,

you are my enemy.

I can't follow your orders.