Mahabharata in Prose, A Story of Dvapar Yuga in prose ( Part-28)
By Lokanath Mishra
The forest stretched endlessly toward the horizon. Walking from forest to forest, entire days would pass. Sometimes they spent the night under the shade of trees, sometimes in mountain caves. Kunti remained constantly absorbed in anxiety about her children. Their childhood was spent on Mount Shatashringa. How many years had they lived in Hastinapura? From there to Indraprastha; from Indraprastha to Varanavata, and the deadly lac house. The Pandavas could not understand what their crime was. Though princes, they lived like beggars, surviving on the mercy of the Kauravas. At the very least, half of Panchala—including Hastinapura protected by their father Pandu’s strength—rightfully belonged to them. And yet, the entire political power remained indifferent to their rightful claim. No one knew the path of redress. Kunti and her five sons had surrendered themselves to the flow of time. Their only hope lay in a golden future. Their refuge was Vasudeva Krishna. Their trust rested on Vidura’s statesmanlike wisdom and farsightedness.
The forest was called Madhuban. Leaving his exhausted mother and brothers seated under the shade of a vast banyan tree, Bhima went in search of fruits. Much time passed. Noon was about to slip into afternoon. Yudhishthira said to Arjuna, “I am afraid. Where has Bhima been for so long? Surely he has gotten into a fight with someone. He went in that direction. Go and check.”
Arjuna immediately set out to look for his brother. After walking some distance, he met Vrikodara returning with a heavy load of fruits. Wounds on various parts of his body clearly proclaimed that the second Pandava had fought a fierce demon. Arjuna took the burden of fruits from his shoulder. Nearby there was a pond. Bhima bathed and returned.
He said, “It was nothing. A demon named Kinnar claimed that this Madhuban belonged to him. For plucking fruits, he attacked me intending to kill me and eat my flesh. What else could I do? I was forced to fight him. The poor fellow reached his end after a few punches. Don’t tell the elder brother—he’ll worry unnecessarily.”
Arjuna replied, “Then what explains all these wounds on your body?”
Talking thus, they reached the banyan tree where their mother and brothers were waiting. By then, blood was still oozing from some of the wounds. Kunti rose and wiped the blood with the edge of her garment. Yudhishthira asked, “With whom did you fight?” Arjuna told him about the Kinnar demon.
Yudhishthira said, “When we are all here, why did you fight a demon alone? If something had happened to you, who would protect us from danger?”
Bhima replied, “Nothing will happen to me. By fighting such demons, I increase my strength. It will be useful in the future. You all have remained without food all day—please eat.”
After spending a few days in the Madhuban forest, they moved on. Earlier, small settlements appeared intermittently, but this time, even after walking a long distance, they saw neither a village nor a single human being. Exhausted by the endless walk through the desolate forest, they lay down beneath a tree. Though everyone slept, Bhima remained awake.
While in the lac house, Uncle Vidura had once told him, “Son, I place great trust in you. I entrust the responsibility of these people to you. Trust me and go far away now. The right time will surely come. You will enjoy your rightful kingdom.”
Bhima reflected upon this. He sat holding his mother’s head in his lap. Looking at her face, even his stone-hard heart melted. The beloved daughter of King Kuntibhoja, the wife of Emperor Pandu, lay sleeping on the bare ground. Though she had sons like Dharmaraja Yudhishthira, mighty Vrikodara, and the unparalleled archer Partha, she did not even have a simple bed. Unable to bear her suffering, tears flowed from Bhima’s eyes and fell upon her face. He carefully wiped both her face and his own with his cloth.
But a son’s tears were enough to break a mother’s sleep. Kunti awoke and said, “What is it, my child? Tears from your eyes are astonishing. No, no—do not cry. I wish to see the fire of anger in your eyes. Do not extinguish that fire with tears. If you too, like others, quietly endure injustice with tears, who will resist? Who will seek justice?”
Her words banished Bhima’s momentary weakness. A confident smile bloomed on his face. Kunti said, “Son, you too need rest. Wake Arjuna and sleep.”
Bhima replied, “I am the elder brother, Mother. The younger brother is already exhausted and asleep. How can I wake him and say, ‘You keep watch while I sleep’?”
Kunti said, “Then wake Yudhishthira.”
Bhima said, “Is it proper for a younger brother to disturb the elder’s sleep? You sleep, Mother. If any one of them wakes on his own, then I will sleep.”
Kunti kissed her son’s head and fell into deep sleep again.
From far away came a terrifying roar. Bhima pricked up his ears. Amid thunder-like sounds, someone was shouting, “Hidimba! Hidimba!”
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A ferocious demon named Hidimbaka lived in that forest with his sister Hidimbi. He caught the scent of humans. For hundreds of leagues around, no human lived there out of fear of Hidimbaka. Thus the siblings survived by devouring animals and birds. Returning from a hunt, Hidimbaka sensed the fragrance of the Pandavas’ bodies near his dwelling. Delighted at the thought of human flesh after so long, he called out to his sister Hidimbi.
When she came, the demon said, “Sister, humans are nearby. First, seize two of them. You eat one, I’ll eat the other. If there are more, bind them and keep them for tomorrow.”
Hidimbi rushed toward the scent. After going some distance, she saw Bhima sitting awake and the others sleeping.
(Verses describing her transformation from demoness to woman and her submission to Bhima follow.)
Bhima was astonished. “Who are you? You are so beautiful—like a celestial woman. Why do you desire an ordinary human like me?”
Hidimbi replied, “I am not human but a demoness, sister of the demon Hidimbaka. My brother sent me to capture you all. We relish human flesh. He waits for me. But upon seeing you, love has sprung in my heart. Accept me as your wife.”
Bhima asked why he should trust her. Hidimbi answered, “If you promise to marry me, I shall tell you the secret of my brother’s death.” Bhima agreed.
She said, “My brother is nearly immortal by Shiva’s boon. On Mount Hiranya is a trident given by Shiva. If that trident pierces his navel, he will die.”
Soon Hidimbaka arrived, furious at seeing his sister with Bhima. A fierce battle followed—mountains were shattered, the forest shook, yet the Pandavas slept on. Hidimbi brought the trident. Bhima seized it and plunged it into Hidimbaka’s navel. With a dreadful roar, the demon fell.
As death approached, Hidimbaka joined Bhima’s hand with Hidimbi’s and died peacefully. The gods showered flowers. Sage Aadideva was sent to solemnize the marriage.
At Hidimbi’s request, the Pandavas stayed there many days. She never returned to her demonic form. Kunti lived contentedly for some time, having gained a virtuous daughter-in-law. The Pandavas rebuilt Hidimbaka’s vast dwelling and lived there for many days.
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( to be continued)