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The Mahabharata
- GenresSpiritualityClassics
Paperback
Published January 1, 2009
9 people are currently reading
42 people want to read
About the author
John D. Smith
47 books2 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
dnf
May 1, 2024Listened to the audiobook.
DNF @ 1%
WAIT. Before you say anything. This isn't a I-dont-like-this DNF, its a this book is too dense to listen to so id rather read it physically
DNF @ 1%
WAIT. Before you say anything. This isn't a I-dont-like-this DNF, its a this book is too dense to listen to so id rather read it physically
October 30, 2025
I think my relationship with Mahabharata has been like growing up with an old friend.
The first time I heard the story, I was only 5 — through the OG Javanese wayang version, sitting wide-eyed as my great-grandfather brought the characters to life with voices that felt almost magical. In elementary school, I finished the Bahasa novel by M. Saleh, clutching the thick book with the kind of determination only a child obsessed with stories could have.
Now, at 23, I’m reading John D. Smith’s English version, and somehow, it still finds new ways to speak to me.
And yet, one thing never changes: whenever Yudhistira gambles away everything, my heart still breaks. That sense of injustice—of watching goodness lose—has shaped much of my moral compass. Maybe that’s why this story keeps coming back to me—especially now, when I’m learning how messy, confusing, and uncertain adulthood can be.
Sometimes I feel lost, anxious about the future, and unsure of what I’m meant to do. In those moments, I remember Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita—a great warrior frozen in doubt in the middle of a battlefield. Unsure of what is right, what is wrong, and whether he still has the strength to go on. Krishna’s words to him feel deeply human: that each of us has our own dharma—our unique path, one we must walk no matter how difficult or unclear. That peace doesn’t come from having everything figured out, but from staying faithful to the path that’s ours to walk.
And maybe that’s what this quarter-life season is really teaching me. That life isn’t a race to become “someone.” I’m not better or wiser than anyone else — just learning, stumbling, and trying to stay true to my small dharma: to spread kindness, to keep empathy alive, to keep walking even when I don’t know where it leads.
Because the real battle isn’t always in Kurukshetra — sometimes it’s within us.
To resist despair when life gets heavy, to keep a spark alive when routine numbs us, to ask for help when we feel alone, to remember that our worth isn’t defined by what happens to us, but by who we choose to become.
So here I am, with this ancient epic in my hands once again, learning to follow my dharma — one step, one breath, one prayer at a time. 🌻🤍🧷
The first time I heard the story, I was only 5 — through the OG Javanese wayang version, sitting wide-eyed as my great-grandfather brought the characters to life with voices that felt almost magical. In elementary school, I finished the Bahasa novel by M. Saleh, clutching the thick book with the kind of determination only a child obsessed with stories could have.
Now, at 23, I’m reading John D. Smith’s English version, and somehow, it still finds new ways to speak to me.
And yet, one thing never changes: whenever Yudhistira gambles away everything, my heart still breaks. That sense of injustice—of watching goodness lose—has shaped much of my moral compass. Maybe that’s why this story keeps coming back to me—especially now, when I’m learning how messy, confusing, and uncertain adulthood can be.
Sometimes I feel lost, anxious about the future, and unsure of what I’m meant to do. In those moments, I remember Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita—a great warrior frozen in doubt in the middle of a battlefield. Unsure of what is right, what is wrong, and whether he still has the strength to go on. Krishna’s words to him feel deeply human: that each of us has our own dharma—our unique path, one we must walk no matter how difficult or unclear. That peace doesn’t come from having everything figured out, but from staying faithful to the path that’s ours to walk.
And maybe that’s what this quarter-life season is really teaching me. That life isn’t a race to become “someone.” I’m not better or wiser than anyone else — just learning, stumbling, and trying to stay true to my small dharma: to spread kindness, to keep empathy alive, to keep walking even when I don’t know where it leads.
Because the real battle isn’t always in Kurukshetra — sometimes it’s within us.
To resist despair when life gets heavy, to keep a spark alive when routine numbs us, to ask for help when we feel alone, to remember that our worth isn’t defined by what happens to us, but by who we choose to become.
So here I am, with this ancient epic in my hands once again, learning to follow my dharma — one step, one breath, one prayer at a time. 🌻🤍🧷
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews