Yudhishthira and Arjuna - Who Failed Abhimanyu?

The night after Abhimanyu's death, Yudhishthira found Arjuna sitting with the boy's broken armor.

Yudhishthira: "You should rest."

Arjuna: "Don't tell me what I should do. You sent him in."

Yudhishthira: "I sent him in because there was no choice. The Chakravyuha was breaking our lines. Someone had to enter."

Arjuna: "Someone. Not my sixteen-year-old son."

Yudhishthira: "He volunteered. He knew the entry. You taught him."

Arjuna: "I taught him the entry! I never taught him the exit! He went in knowing he couldn't get out! And you let him. You let a child die to buy you time."

Yudhishthira: "To buy us all time. To buy the war."

Arjuna: "The war isn't worth his life."

Yudhishthira: "Then what is? What price is acceptable for dharma? Tell me, Arjuna, since you seem to have calculated values I don't understand."

Arjuna: "Don't you dare—"

Yudhishthira: "I dare because I have to! Because every decision in this war costs something! Bhishma cost us our honor. Drona cost us our truth. And yes, Abhimanyu cost us— Cost me. Do you think I don't know what he was? Do you think I sent him carelessly?"

Arjuna: "Why didn't you stop him?"

Yudhishthira: "Why didn't you teach him the exit?"

The question hung in the air. Arjuna's face changed—anger becoming something rawer.

Arjuna: "I was going to. I was explaining it to Subhadra and she fell asleep and I thought—I thought there would be time. There's always time for the next lesson. Except when there isn't."

Yudhishthira: "So we both failed him. You failed to teach. I failed to protect. Neither of us is innocent."

Arjuna sat down heavily. The anger was draining, leaving only grief.

Arjuna: "He was so eager. When I left for the other battle, he said, 'Father, I'll make you proud.' As if I wasn't already proud. As if he had anything left to prove."

Yudhishthira: "He proved plenty. He held that formation longer than any of us expected. He killed warriors three times his age. He died fighting."

Arjuna: "He died alone. Surrounded by enemies who attacked him six-on-one because they couldn't beat him fairly."

Yudhishthira: "He died a hero."

Arjuna: "I don't want a hero. I want my son."

Yudhishthira sat beside his brother. The armor between them was dented, bloodstained, sized for a boy who would never grow larger.

Arjuna: "I sent him in, That's true. I made the decision. But I didn't make it lightly. I didn't make it carelessly. I made it because there were no good options, only bad ones and worse ones."

Yudhishthira: "And this was the bad one?"

Arjuna: "This was the survivable one. For the army. For the war. For the future. Not for Abhimanyu. Never for him."

Yudhishthira: "How do you live with that? Making calculations where children are numbers?"

Arjuna: "I don't live with it. I endure it. Every morning I wake up and the weight is there. Every decision adds to it. Eventually the weight will crush me, and that will be a relief."

Yudhishthira: "That's not comfort."

Arjuna: "I don't have comfort. I have honesty. Your son died because of my decision. Your son also died because of your incomplete teaching. Your son died because his enemies were cowards. Your son died because this war exists at all. Everyone carries a piece of it. No one carries all of it."

Arjuna picked up the armor. Held it like he was holding his son.

Yudhishthira: "I want to blame you. It would be easier."

Arjuna: "Blame me if it helps. I can carry that too."

Yudhishthira: "It doesn't help. Nothing helps."

Arjuna: "Then we grieve together. Without blame. Without clarity. Just two fathers who failed a boy who deserved better."

Arjuna leaned against his brother. The grief was a physical thing, a weight between them and around them.

Yudhishthira: "He was so young."

Arjuna: "He was magnificent."

Yudhishthira: "Both."

Arjuna: "Both."

They sat with the armor until dawn, mourning a boy who had been young and magnificent and dead too soon, neither forgiving the other because forgiveness wasn't possible, just enduring together because enduring alone was worse.