द्रुपदो द्रौपदेयाश्च सर्वशः पृथिवीपते।सौभद्रश्च महाबाहुः शङ्खान्दध्मुः पृथक्पृथक्॥
drupado draupadeyāśca sarvaśaḥ pṛthivī-patesaubhadraśca mahā-bāhuḥ śaṅkhāndadhmuḥ pṛthak pṛthak
Word by word
The verse says
Drupada, the sons of Draupadi, and the strong-armed son of Subhadra — each of them, lord of the earth, blew his own conch.
In plain words
The list closes with the young ones. Draupadi's sons, and Abhimanyu again.
And Sanjaya, telling all this to the blind king, breaks off to address him directly: lord of the earth. It is a polite form. It is also being said to a man whose sons are across the field from these boys, all of them about to die.
Where you've felt this · in grief
Someone giving you bad news slips in your name or your title mid-sentence. It sounds formal. What it usually means is that they have stopped for a second, because they can see where the sentence is going.
Going deeper
It is worth remembering who is speaking and to whom.
Everything in this chapter reaches us through Sanjaya, reporting live to Dhritarashtra, who cannot see. Sanjaya has been given sight of the battlefield for exactly this purpose. So the entire Bhagavad Gita — every word Krishna says — is technically being overheard and relayed by a third party to a blind man sitting far away.
That frame does something to how the book asks to be read. You are not present at the conversation. You are in Dhritarashtra's position: receiving it second-hand, at a distance, from someone who was there.
And Dhritarashtra, who hears the whole thing exactly as you do, is not changed by it at all. The teaching that transforms Arjuna reaches the blind king too, and does nothing. The Gita puts that possibility in its own frame, right at the start.