Gatotkacha - Demon Son Part VII

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 


This is the seventh part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son. Click to read the first, second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth parts. Last week we saw that Gatotkacha was being trained by expert Rakshas warriors. During that training he had to face aspects of his nature that he'd not expected. This is what happened next:


Gatotkacha’s training was swift and brutal. He learned all kinds of magical arts, things his mother had only mentioned to him as possible.

He himself was always conscious of his weakness. Of the viciousness just beneath his skin. He was terrified of losing control and kept a tight rein on his emotions because of it. When he spoke, it was quietly. When he moved, it was planned and careful. He reacted to nothing without thought because he never wanted to lose control like that again. He was afraid he would hurt someone yet his training was all about hurting others. He learned to intensely focus on the moves, not the result, because he couldn’t bear to think of the result. It made him one of the best fighters the Elders had ever seen.

And through it all he found the Elders deferring to him, asking his opinion, suggesting rather than ordering. He didn’t understand why. They only mentioned his mother in respectful terms and avoided any mention of his father altogether. If he said a certain creature was not to be harmed, they didn’t touch it. At least, they didn’t touch it in front of him. He never knew what their true feelings were and it made him uneasy. He watched them constantly, trying to decipher what they were thinking and what they would hurt next so he could stop them.

When his training ended, they delivered him to his mother. He didn’t understand that either. He was grown now. He didn’t need to be escorted. But they landed before the cave, and called out to the “Mother of Gatotkacha”. They announced - as if the whole forest was listening - that Gatotkacha was the fiercest warrior of all the Rakshas.

And Gatotkacha found, to his dismay, that the whole forest was listening. From the trees stepped all his friends and their parents, the Rakshas who’d taught him to swim, the Rakshasis who brought his mother food and water every day. The parrots and monkeys peered down at him, calling greetings, celebrating his return with chirps and hoots. And the deer - the deer! - peeked out from under the tree leaves. They blinked their shy doe eyes at him and watched as he touched his mother’s feet to greet her.

“Matashri,” he said. She was no longer “Ma” to him. Gatotkacha was a man now. A warrior grown. He would never call his father “Papa” either. His father was now “Pitashri”.

She raised him and went up on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead now that he towered over her. She gave him no blessing for a long life. “Kirti man bhavah,” she said. She blessed him with fame. With glory.

Gatotkacha settled back into life with his mother and found it a relief to not have to deflect attacks from every angle at every turn. The Rakshas of their forest called him Prince and came to him with their problems, asking for his guidance and opinions. He did his best to help them. His father helped people wherever he went and Gatotkacha wanted to be like him.

Gatotkacha traveled amongst the different Rakshas communities of the different forests and established a dialogue, encouraging the less violent choices in life. His friends came with him and they became known as the Prince’s Followers. They worked for his cause, traveling between the forest and mountain communities, delivering his message of more peaceful living to the Rakshas.

There were Rakshas who didn’t listen to him, of course. Some even stood in open defiance. Gatotkacha knew that his people expected him to be angry, to react with violence and force them to his will. That would be natural for a Rakshas.

But Gatotkacha remembered his blood thirst, the horror of it, and choked down his feelings. He did not react with violence. He spoke of how they were all free to follow their own desires, but that violent desires had painful ends. He told them that harming the innocent would result in swift justice from unexpected places, such as the justice his father Bhima had dealt his uncle Hidimb. Who knew what form justice would take for them?

Fewer and fewer Rakshas defied him.

He heard that his brothers were growing steadily but not as fast as him. His second mother Draupadi sent messages of love and blessings to him along with letters from his brothers written in childish language, saying that they missed their big brother and wished to see him. He wished to see them too. But his father had not given permission for him to come to Indraprashta.

Bhima, meanwhile, had been busy as the emperor’s second-in-command. He'd not visited Hidimba in a long time because of that but sent letters regularly that Gatotkacha read to his mother. One such letter said that the Pandavas were going to Hastinapur for a visit. Their cousins the Kauravas had invited the Pandavas for a dice match.

Gatotkacha knew his mother was glad for it. Now that Yudhistira was emperor, with the whole world paying tribute to him, the Pandavas had nothing to fear from their cousins. Perhaps now the Kauravas would finally start to behave as true family, with no plots or conspiracies.

Gatotkacha was sitting with his friends on the riverbank, discussing a technique for flying, when the parrots in the trees let out warning calls. He looked up at them, raising his eyebrows in question. They told him to go home immediately.

He went home.

A Rakshas messenger was standing outside their cave, probably sent from the Rakshas Elders. He had his head down, his dreadlocks obscuring his face. He looked almost ashamed of himself. Hidimba stood before him.

“Matashri?” Gatotkacha said.

She whipped around to look at him. She was white-faced, her eyes wide and blank.

He was stunned. “Matashri?”

She only stared at him, but not really at him. Through him. She shook her head.

“What has happened?” Gatotkacha asked.

Hidimba wrapped her trembling arms around her torso, turned around, and went inside the cave.

Gatotkacha gaped. He’d never seen his mother like this. He shut his mouth and turned to the messenger. “What is the news?”

The Rakshas cringed. “Prince…”

Gatotkacha put up his hands in a calming gesture. “Don’t be afraid to speak freely. I won’t harm you.”

The messenger swallowed. “My Prince, Emperor Yudhistira lost his kingdom to the Kauravas in the dice match.”

At first, Gatotkacha thought he’d heard wrong. “What?”

“He lost everything, his kingdom and wealth. He also staked his brothers and lost.”

“What?!”

“He even staked Empress Draupadi and lost her too. She was then dragged to the dice hall where the Kauravas tried to strip her naked.”

Gatotkacha felt the blood drain from his face, and knew he looked as his mother had. He sank to his knees. “What?” he said again.

“The people say there was some sort of miracle. They say Draupadi cried out for help to Krishna and was saved. They say that even though Prince Dushashan tried to strip her naked, she was never disrobed.”

Gatotkacha held his head in his hands. “Truly?”

“Yes. She was saved and spoke such harsh words to the court that the King was compelled to return what the Pandavas had lost back to them.”

Gatotkacha closed his eyes, so horrified yet grateful that he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe this. His father, his father’s brothers, his mother Draupadi…

“That is not the last of the news, Prince.”

Gatotkacha looked back at the messenger, unable to breathe. “What?”

“The Pandavas could not protect Empress Draupadi, because they were slaves at the time. But after she was saved Prince Bhima stood before the court and declared that if on the battlefield he did not tear open Dushashan’s chest and drink Dushashan’s blood, he would be a slave for his next seven lifetimes.”

Gatotkacha couldn’t move. He was rooted to the spot, frozen before the world. His father's bloodlust… Gatotkacha understood it. He knew it. He imagined Dushashan in his own grip and thought of tearing that throat open. He felt his fangs growing, his claws elongating.

Gatotkacha staggered to his feet, and walked into the forest. He had to plan every step in his head because he didn't know what he might do otherwise. He didn’t get far before he fell to his knees and vomited. Panting, he thought of his father as a slave and heaved. He thought of his mother stripped naked and heaved again. But Krishna had saved her. He’d saved her.

Gatotkacha leaned on the ground and wept. "Thank you, Krishna..."

He stayed like that for hours, unable to do anything else. He thought of all his training and realized how useless it was. He’d not been able to protect his mother. He’d not been able to save his father. What was the point in his power if the Kauravas could do this? Now his father must drink blood like a Rakshas or be a slave for seven lifetimes. His proud Kuru father, who helped everyone he met!

Eventually, as it became dark, Gatotkacha made his way back to the cave. He found his mother packing bundles, like she did for his father when he was leaving them.

Gatotkacha merely stood, watching her in silence, waiting for her to speak.

She didn't look up from her packing. “My son, we have work to do. We must go to the Himalayas.”

His mind wasn't working. “Why?”

She continued, placing garments and articles into bundles and wrapping them up. “We’re going to do a special worship to Mother Durga. It will take years but we’re going to ask her for a boon.”

He was bewildered. “Why?”

“Why do you think?" She tied up the last of the bundles and stood to face him. "To save your father.”


To be continued...

Gatotkacha - Demon Son Part VI

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 


This is the sixth part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son. Click to read the first, second, third, fourth and fifth parts. Last week we saw that Gatotkacha grew up alone, without his brothers near him, and he knew there was a reason for that. This is what happened next:


When the Rakshas Elders came, Hidimba didn't realise until they were right outside her cave. They'd masked their scent and approached from the sky, skills only the most powerful of Rakshas could do.

She ordered Gatotkacha to remain inside and rushed out by herself, afraid they were here to hurt her half-human son. She grew claws to defend him.

"Peace, Sister," one of the elder's said. "We're not here to hurt you."

She stood before her cave door, legs bent and arms raised in defensive stance. The elders were grouped around her like jackals, bone necklaces round their necks and teeth earrings through their ears. She growled.

"We're not here to hurt you or your son," another Rakshas said.

"We've come to teach him," yet another said.

She blinked, but didn't relax. "Why?"

"Because we've heard he's special."

She didn't trust them. These were the strongest Rakshas, those who waged war with the celestials. They wouldn't care about her or her son. Except that her son was half Arya and they would hate him for it.

"Sister, it's true. We're here to teach Gatotkacha."

"Why?" she asked again.

"Because there's a war coming."

She was infuriated. "My son is not a toy for you to toss on a battlefield! He won't fight for you!"

"No, he won't. He'll fight for his father."

She lowered her arms a little. "What do you know of it?"

The elders seemed to become grave, their eyes narrowing.

The eldest of them spoke. He had a silver mane that flowed down his back. "We know that the Kurus are heading for a civil war," he said softly. "The Pandavas have performed the Rajasurya Yagna and Yudhistira is now Emperor of Indraprastha."

She already knew that, her husband told her everything. Bhima was Yudhistira's heir as well as his bodyguard.

The elder shook his head, making the bones of his necklace shiver. "Duryodhan won't stop until he has taken everything from the Pandavas. Some of us work for him so we know his plans."

She looked past the fangs and the bones, to the deep of his silver eyes. "Why do you care?"

"We care because Gatotkacha will fight for his father and if he must be on the battlefield, then he must be prepared. He will not disgrace us before the world with weak Arya ways."

She raised her claws again. "I'm teaching him what he needs to know."

"You don't know the things we do," the eldest said. "You're skilled but you've never been on a battlefield. He needs us to train him."

Hidimba looked from him to the others, knowing that what they said was the truth but not wanting Gatotkacha anywhere near them. What would her husband say?

Bhima had many gurus. He said that wisdom, whatever source it came from, was still wisdom. He'd learned from Drona, from Balaram, from Nagraj. From the wind. He taught Gatotkacha to learn from everything around him.

Would it be fair to deprive Gatotkacha of the knowledge the Rakshas Elders possessed?

But what if they made him more Rakshas than Arya?

"Promise me," she said. "Promise me you will only teach him to use his strength on the battlefield."

The Rakshas Elders chuckled. "We promise," the silver mane said.

Gatotkacha had no idea how terrified his mother was when she sent him with the elders. She only hugged him, and said this: "Remember you are a Kuru. You are your father's son. Now go and learn."

The first thing they did was teach him to fly. He was better at it than they were - faster, smoother, and Gatotkacha thought it must be because his grandfather was the Wind God. He wasn't even afraid. Feeling the wind currents around him, soaring through the clouds and dodging attacks from his elders, he laughed the whole way. He inhaled the clean cold air and felt perfectly at home.

"Now," the silver maned one said, hovering near his side, "you need to practice your marksmanship. Use them."

They were flying over a vast plane, where a herd of deer were grazing. The elder was telling Gatotkacha to use the deer as targets.

Gatotkacha frowned.

The elder arched an eyebrow at him. "What are you waiting for? They sense an attack, they're running. Move."

Gatotkacha watched the deer as they ran for cover and found none, scattering from one side to another. "I don't want to."

Another Rakshas flew up to join them, his brown dreadlocks soaring behind him. "Do as we tell you, boy."

"My mother says deer are innocent."

"Your stupid mother," the brown dreadlocked Rakshas spat, "married a human."

Almost in slow motion, hovering in the air, Gatotkacha turned to look at the elder. "What did you say?" he whispered. The next moment he was on the Rakshas, claws around his throat. But the Rakshas was not an elder for nothing. He broke free and flew away, throwing fireballs at Gatotkacha behind him.

Gatotkacha felt his blood racing through his body as he knocked the fireballs away.

He nose-dived, coming up underneath the Rakshas and grabbing the legs. His fangs grew instinctively and he bit a hairy foot. The Rakshas howled and kicked him, managing to get away a few feet before Gatotkacha caught up. He grabbed the Rakshas by his animal skin covering and threw him towards the earth, making him tumble and lose balance. Gatotkachas dived after him, throwing fireballs the Rakshas barely managed to defend himself against, burned and scorched as he became. Gatotkacha grinned. This, now this, was target practice.

Gatotkacha looped around the elder and grabbed his dreadlocks, not letting go as he dived down and drove upwards and dived down again. The Rakshas was flung around behind him in the wind currents. Gatotkacha heard him moaning but didn't stop.

Eventually, he slammed the elder into the ground, Gatotkacha on top of him. With one hand he held onto the dreadlocks, pulling the Rakshas' head back. With the other he held a thick claw to the Rakshas' throat. "What did you say about my parents?" he asked.

The silver mane landed beside them. "Enough."

"Don't interrupt!" Gatotkacha barked. "Now, what did you say?" he asked the brown dreadlocks beneath him.

The Rakshas was panting, blood pumping through the artery in his neck. Gatotkacha's keen eyes saw it, and all of a sudden he thirsted for it. He leaned closer. His fangs grew. He could smell the blood, could feel it rushing through the body beneath him. He imagined what it would taste like, warm and sweet, gushing into his mouth. He licked his lips.

"I said your mother was very wise!" the Rakshas cried.

Gatotkacha jerked, brought to his senses. He shook the elder beneath him. "Don't forget it!" He got off and stood, acting nonchalant, but inside he was shaking. He'd wanted to drink blood. He still wanted to drink it.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the silver maned one. "No one touches the deer."

The elder was watching him quietly. "If that's what you wish."

His belly quivering, Gatotkacha turned and walked away. He almost fell down and retched but caught himself before the others could see. He kept walking.

For the first time in his life, Gatotkacha truly felt like a Rakshas. So this is what it's like, he thought, covered in cold sweat. This was why he couldn't live with his brothers. Why he couldn't meet Krishna.

This was why his mother told him to remember he was a Kuru.

With a trembling hand, Gatotkacha covered his mouth. Papa, he thought. I'm not worthy of you.


To be continued... 
Go here to read the next part.

Gatotkacha - Demon Son Part V

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 


This is the fifth part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son. Click to read the first, second, third, and fourth parts. Last week we saw that Hidimba and Bhima harbored great hopes for Gatotkacha's future. This is what happened next:


Gatotkacha opened his eyes in the morning to see his father sitting by him on the bed. He grinned and leaped into his father's arms.

Bhima hugged him tight. "I was waiting for you to wake,"

"Papa," Gatotkacha said happily, his arms around Bhima's neck.

"I have to go today, son," Bhima told him.

Gatotkacha pulled back. "Go? Why? We play!"

"I wish I could, Gatotkacha. But I have to go to Hastinapur and do my duty. We Kurus never abandon our dharma."

"Then I come to Hasti Apur and do my dharma too!"

Bhima chuckled. "Your dharma is to stay here, with your mother and the parrots and the monkeys."

"They all come to Hasti Apur."

"You can't take innocent beings out of their home, Gatotkacha." Bhima looked sad as he said this and he stroked Gatotkacha's head, still smooth and bald as a cooking pot. "It could hurt them."

"But wat's in Hasti Apur? Scary things?"

"Some scary things. And other Kurus. Your uncles and grandsires and aunts and grandmothers. They need my help to serve and protect the people from scary things. And there's another person who'll be in Hastinapur also. He's very special. Shall I tell you about him?"

Gatotkacha nodded.

"He's my cousin, Krishna. He's visiting us from Dwarka."

"Kishna?"

"Krishna. Your Uncle Krishna. One day you'll meet him and you'll love him."

"Why?"

"Because when you're sad, he makes you happy. And when you don't know what to do, he shows you the way."

"Like the stars?" The previous evening, Bhima had taken Gatotkacha up to the highest branches of the trees and explained the constellations to him, and how they could help a warrior find his way in the dark.

Bhima nodded. "Just like the stars."

"I wanna see Uncle Kishna!"

"You will, one day. I promise," Bhima kissed his son's head and then, after bathing and eating breakfast together, Hidimba and Gatotkacha waved farewell as Bhima left them. Gatotkacha didn't cry, even though he wanted to. He puckered up his lips and buried his face in his mother's neck, and didn't cry.

Gatotkacha continued to grow. Hidimba allowed other Rakshas to teach him certain skills, such as tracking, and hiding, but when it came to teaching him how to treat others, she did that herself. She told him that while Rakshas were strong and had many talents, they were not well versed in kindness. She told him that it would be his job to teach it to Rakshas because kindness was another type of strength.

She took him all over the forest, and taught him the names of the many birds and animals and insects and plants. She taught him how to recognise them, their scent and sound and dangers. She explained how they all had strengths and weaknesses of their own, and to not judge a life-form just by it's size. She told him that insects as small as termites could fell a mighty tree. She explained that great size, while an advantage many times, could be a hindrance in others. She did not want him to make her brother's mistake.

Gatotkacha was five years old yet looked like he was ten. This was when Hidimba quietly, secretly, began to teach him what her mother had taught her and Hidimb. Demonstrating, she taught him how to change size at will. Over and over she made him practice the secret, until he could do it half asleep. She taught him other things too, dangerous things that gave Rakshas their fearsome reputation. Gatotkacha was fascinated by the powers she showed him but she was stern in disciplining any abuse of those powers. Warriors never abused their strength, she told him. Or used it to show off. And they never used it against innocents. "You must prove yourself worthy of your power, Gatotkacha," she told him.

Bhima visited many times in those early years, and while he was there he would train Gatotkacha in other ways. With his father, Gatotkacha could run very fast. So fast that he could traverse an entire mountain in minutes. Bhima would time him, and if Gatotkacha took longer because the slope was sharp, Bhima would ask why Gatotkacha had dawdled. The wind didn't dawdle because of a slope and neither should Gatotkacha, he said. And the boy became faster and faster, trying to outdo the wind. Bhima would laugh and tell him it was natural for them because they were of the Wind God. Speed was in their blood.

Bhima asked a sage to come to Hidimba's forest to teach Gatotkacha his letters. The sage was reluctant, knowing the forest was filled with Rakshas, but Bhima assured him of protection and the sage came. It didn't take long for Gatotkacha to learn although he didn't relish reading or writing the way the sage seemed to think he should. When the sage left after completing his task, Bhima came and tested his son.

Gatotkacha was so happy when his father was with him. But it never lasted long. Bhima would stay for a few days, sometimes a week, and then go back to the new city of Indrasprastha, that the Pandavas had built and where their branch of the Kuru family now lived.

Gatotkacha made friends with the other Rakshas children but it upset him when they did mean things. One time he joined them to play and found them catching fish with their hands and eating them. Gatotkacha swam with the fish, they were his friends, and they were so pretty and graceful. He didn't like to see them eaten. His discomfit was so obvious that his friends asked him what was wrong and since his mother had told him never to lie because warriors never lied, he answered.

He said that he knew everyone needed to eat but that he didn't like to see fish eaten. They were his friends.

For a moment, his Rakshas friends looked at him, mystified. "But they're fish!" one boy said yet the others shushed him. After a moment, one by one they all dropped their fish. "We won't do it if you don't like it," one of the boys told him. Gatotkacha grabbed the one fish still breathing and gently put it back in the water. He smiled as it swam away.

It was strange how his friends listened to him about that. He'd never expected it. His mother said that Rakshas were naturally vicious and took what they wanted. And it was true. He saw one Rakshas tear a deer in half and eat it, even though the deer hadn't done anything to him. Gatotkacha's mother told him that before he'd been born, the Rakshas of this forest had eaten humans too but now they were so scared of Bhima that they didn't. Gatotkacha was glad of that.

His mother had told him that it was his dharma as a Kuru to teach Rakshas to be kinder to others. He wanted to but he didn't know how he was going to do that. His friends had listened to him but would anyone else?

Hidimba and Gatotkacha heard the news and celebrated as Draupadi and Subhadra (Uncle Arjuna's second wife) had sons. Bhima would tell Gatotkacha that they were his brothers, and that one day he would meet them and get to play with them. But Gatotkacha never did get to meet them.

Gatotkacha wondered why his brothers got to live with their fathers while he didn't and when he asked his mother she said it was because he was half Rakshas. She said that Rakshas were strongest in their own environment and that was why he was here and not in Indrasprastha.

He never questioned her again about it, but he turned her words over in his mind many times. He was half Rakshas and half Arya, while his brothers were full Arya. They got to live with their fathers.

Sometimes, when he thought of his brothers at night, he would climb up a tree and watch the stars. He remembered what his father had told him about Krishna, that Krishna was like the stars. When people were sad, Krishna made them happy.

Gatotkacha wished he could meet Krishna. But Gatotkacha was half Raksha.


To be continued...
Go here for the next part.

Gatotkacha - Demon Son Part IV

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 


This is the fourth part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son. Click to read the first, second, and third parts. Last week we saw that Gatotkacha held a unique place amongst the Rakshas that surprised his mother Hidimba. This is what happened next:


The Rakshas of Hidimba's forest were rocked to their core with the news. The mighty Bakasur, pride of the Rakshas community, had been slain.

Hidimba knew instantly who'd done it, although the people of Ekchakra didn't. That city that had been terrorised by Bakasur and forced to give human tributes to him once a month, had been rescued by none other than Bhima, son of Kunti and husband of Hidimba. His family had been in Ekchakra and he'd gone there to join them. And who else would have been strong enough to defeat Bakasur, a Rakshas of such terrifying power that he'd controlled a whole city for thirteen years?

She didn't tell anyone what she knew. The Pandavas were supposed to be living in secret, after all. But her people guessed. They whispered amongst themselves and, as if Bhima had not seemed strong enough before, now he grew to a legend in their minds. The Doom of their people. They vowed never to cross him. Gatotkacha was treated more like a prince than ever before, and Hidimba was given help such as she'd never dreamed in raising him.

Gatotkacha was growing steadily. He looked to be about six years old, though he was only one year in truth, and eating like a monster. He didn't need her milk anymore but he insisted on it, and she gave in to keep him happy.

It was several months later that Hidimba was bent over her cooking fire, stirring rice and lentils, when it came to her. That scent. Her head came up. Gatotkacha appeared in the doorway of the hut, a confused look on his face. "Mama?" He smelled it too.

She broke into a smile, so happy she wanted to weep and dance and cheer. She raced to pick up Gatotkacha and ran out of the cave with him, through the forest, down to the river.

He was walking along it towards her.

She cried out and ran into his arms.

Bhima embraced his wife and child, barely getting a glance at them before engulfing them in his arms. For the first time in so long he felt whole again. He felt his wife's tears on his chest and stroked her hair, kissing her head.

They stood like that for a long time, until Gatotkacha broke the hold by climbing onto his father's shoulders, looking for dreadlocks to pull on. But Bhima did not wear dreadlocks now, his soft curly hair had grown out down to his shoulders and he wore it free like the Kuru prince he was. Gatotkacha got his hands tangled in it, delighting in this new soft toy like he delighted in furry animals.

Hidimba realised that Bhima was in royal dress, wearing silk garments and jewels to match. He was clean shaven, and his shoes were embroidered and studded with gems, and he carried a gigantic mace that was tipped with a diamond.

"You're out of hiding?" she asked. "Isn't that dangerous?" All the while she thought how handsome he was.

"Not anymore," he said, smiling. "My cousins cannot try to kill us now."

She stared in disbelief but Bhima shook his head. "Let's get home, I'll tell you all about it."

He swung her into his arms, Gatotkacha still on his shoulders, and carried them both to the cave.

But Bhima didn't tell her anything for the next few hours. He spent the time with his son, talking and playing, chasing each other through the forest.

Gatotkacha introduced his father to his friends the parrots and the monkeys, translating everything they said, and chatted non-stop about the Rakshas who'd taught him to swim. He even demonstrated, waving his body in a smooth up and down motion, the most efficient way to swim underwater.

For Gatotkacha, it was as if his father had never been gone. Tucked away in his earliest memories was the secure feel of his father's hold, the broad shoulders, the comfortable salty sweet scent. Everything Gatotkacha said began with "Papa" and every time Bhima heard it he laughed and threw Gatotkacha up in the air. The boy screamed with laughter as his father caught him and tickled under his arms.

All the play exhausted Gatotkacha and after an enormous meal he fell asleep, leaning against Bhima even as his father sat eating. Bhima gently put him on the bed and stood, looking down at him. Hidimba came and they clasped hands, watching their son.

"He's so big," Bhima whispered. "And he talks so much."

"'He started talking just after you left," she whispered back. "Now I can't get him to be quiet."

Bhima grinned. "He's not like us then. We can get through a whole day just by grunting at each other."

She laughed softly. "I think he's like your brother Nakula. Nakula likes to talk, doesn't he?"

Bhima looked struck. "Yes, he does. Come to think of it, we couldn't get Nakula to shut up either when we were children. We still can't."

She shook with silent laughter.

His arm came around her. "Come outside."

She let him lead her out the cave and towards a glade nearby, where so long ago he'd placed some boulders for sitting. They sat next to each other and she waited for him to speak.

He took a deep breath and told her of how his family had left Ekchakra and gone to Kampilya, where Princess Draupadi was having her Swayamvar ceremony. Draupadi had been born out of a holy fire and all kings and warriors had desired to win her. Bhima told Hidimba how Arjuna won her hand and how Bhima defended her against all the kings who were angry at her choice. And then Bhima told Hidimba how Draupadi came to marry all five Pandavas, that she was wife to all of them. And now that they had her, they had the support of her father, the king of Kampilya, and his huge army.

"So I am married again, you see. I didn't expect this to happen but it did."

She was silent for some long moments, staring at the ground.

"My lady, I still love you. Nothing has changed. I love you more than anything. This was never meant to happen but it did and I couldn't stop it. But I-"

"I suspect," she said, interrupting him, "that you didn't expect to marry Draupadi the same way you didn't expect to marry me."

Bhima realised that she was smiling at him, a wry look in her eye.

"Mother's orders?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he breathed.

"And you were helpless before Mother, you big gentle giant," she said, laughing. She got up and sat in his lap, putting her arms around his neck. "You're a prince. I never expected to be your only wife."

"You're truly not upset?"

She ducked her head. "A little. Yes. I was surprised. But I know you'd never mean to hurt my heart."

His arms pulled her tight against him. "Never, my lady."

They held each other hard, almost desperately, until Hidimba chuckled and looked up at him. "What's she like?"

"Fiery," he said, his voice bland. "I know how to pick wives, don't I? One a Rakshasi and the other the daughter of fire."

"Strong men need strong women," she told him.

He nudged her. "I'll have to keep you apart lest you destroy the world fighting over me."

She swatted at his shoulder. "You. We wouldn't fight. We'd love each other as sisters."

"That's what she said too. In fact, that's why I'm here."

She blinked at him.

"She sent me to get you so you could live with us. She said she wanted to meet her elder sister. "

Hidimba blinked again, and was silent for some moments. She studied Bhima's face, but he was only open and sweet, as always. "She really said that?"

"She also said she needed help handling a big brute like me."

"Well, that's believable enough," she teased him. "But I belong here. Didn't you tell her that?"

"I told her you'd be reluctant to leave the forest. But why should you not live with us? You're my wife. You belong with me."

"I'm also born Rakshas. Your city ways will be too strange for me. I'll frighten your subjects."

"They'll learn. You'll learn."

She sighed. "Even if that were possible, I think it's best for Gatotkacha to be raised here. Amongst his people." She told Bhima how Gatotkacha was thought of as a prince and how the Rakshas did whatever they could to serve him and his mother.

"So it's already begun," Bhima said in wonder.

"What?"

"Your sister Draupadi said that our marriage was an alliance between Rakshas and Arya. That we could use our bond to create peace between our communities."

"She sounds very clever," Hidimba said.

"She is."

"But don't you see? That's why we can't come to live in the palace. If Gatotkacha grows up like that, the Rakshas will only think of him as Arya, not as one of them. He needs to be near them to hold influence over them."

Bhima closed his eyes.

"You know it's true," she told him. "And just think of the bloodshed that might be averted if Gatotkacha were to influence them." She leaned close and lowered her voice. "There'd be no more Bakasurs."

Bhima sighed. "I believe," he said, "that I'm cursed with two clever wives."

Hidimba rested her hands on his chest and looked up at him with her big pretty eyes. "Let us create a whole new world, my lord."


To be continued...
Go here to read the next part.

Gatotkacha - Demon Son Part III

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 


This is the third part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son. Click to read the first and second part. Last week we saw that Bhima had to leave his young son and wife, to fulfill his duties to his people. This is what happened next:


Hidimba was kept very busy by her son Gatotkacha. He was always making mischief without ever meaning too and she was forever running after him, afraid he would hurt himself or others. All his babbling took form in words and within a few months, he was speaking like a toddler, even though he was only a few months old. He still looked like a five-year-old, though, which was a relief to her. His rapid growth looked like it had slowed down, somewhat. And through all this his head was still as smooth as the curve of a cooking pot.

It was when he was sleeping his baby's sleep that Hidimba allowed herself to think of Bhima, to miss his presence and his scent, and his strong arms holding her at night.

Gatotkacha climbed the trees outside their cave and became friends with the monkeys who lived there. Hidimba was glad because the monkeys were strong and fast and could keep Gatotkach occupied while she was doing her housework.

Unfortunately, her son and the monkeys formed a gang and terrorized the local parrot population. Gatotkacha didn't like how the parrots repeated his words back at him. He and the monkeys leaped all over the trees, disturbing the parrots from their perches and creating a general ruckus.

In the midst of cooking lunch, Hidimba realised what he was doing and rushed out of the cave to stop him. She sternly called him down from the trees and explained to him it wasn't fair to hurt those who were weaker. When he protested she told him that parrots couldn't help repeating his words, they were learning just like he was. She encouraged him to speak good words, so the parrots could learn good words too, and told him to make friends with them that way.

Her son listened to her. He became so gentle with the parrots that they let him sit next to them on the tree branches and repeat every noise they made. He realised that their noises to each other were words too, a language, and he started to understand what they were saying. Gatotkacha made the monkeys share their mangoes with the parrots, which caused a lot of grumbling and screeching from the monkeys but he made it happen, remembering that his mother had said everyone needed food.

Despite his sweet nature, Gatotkacha was still a handful for Hidimba and she was continually exhausted. He was still breastfeeding, but the additional food he required for his rapid growth and the antics he got into took its toll on her. She longed for Bhima's help.

Then something strange happened. Other demons began to come to her cave. They'd avoided her while Bhima was there, not knowing how to deal with that terrifyingly strong human in their midst. Hidimba had expected them to either ignore or ostracize now that she was alone. But the Rakshas of her forest began to leave gifts outside her cave - a pile of watermelons, a branch of bananas, baskets of berries and nuts and leaves. New grass garments and bead jewellery too. Fresh water was left outside her cave every morning so she didn't have to go to the river for it.

And they would show up with Gatotkacha during the day, having saved him from some random escapade. They were gentle with him, never rough, just keeping him safe from harm.

Hidimba didn't know how to explain it. It wasn't normal for Rakshas to help each other this way. Rakshas respected strength, they didn't show gentleness. Rakshas demanded food and gifts from others, they didn't give things away. And they never shared.

One day Hidimba realised that Gatotkacha wasn't playing in the trees outside and became worried. She came out of the cave to search for him. That was when one of the Rakshas men came into the clearing, his hand firmly around Gatotkacha's arm. He handed the boy over to her.

Before she could say a word he spoke, his voice gruff: "He was about to jump into the river. I didn't think you'd taught him to swim yet so I caught him and brought him home."

Hidimba's heart leapt at the thought of her son drowning. She couldn't speak and just looked at the Rakshas with his wild grey dreadlocks obscuring his eyes and dirty animal skins covering his body.

"I can teach him, if you're too busy," the Rakshas said.

She was stunned. A Rakshas teach another Rakshas' child? Hidimba held Gatotkacha's arm and didn't know what to say. But the help would be so wonderful! she thought.

"I can teach him," the Rakshas said again. "He'll be safe with me."

She searched his rough face for some reason. Why?

The Rakshas saw the question in her eyes. He gestured to Gatotkacha, who was chewing on some leaf he'd picked up. "Your son is our Prince."

Hidimba gaped at that. Rakshas never cared for worldly titles and position. They took what they wanted.

"Gatotkacha's father is the mighty Kuru Bhima. He is strong like the Kurus. And like you. And like his uncle Hidimb." The Rakshas gestured to the boy. "He will make us proud one day. Gatotkacha will make all Rakshas proud before not just Rakshas, but the whole world."

Hidimba's eyes filled with tears. She'd never imagined that her people would see her son that way. That they would see him as a bridge to the world.

Gatotkacha got tired of chewing on the leaf and spit it out. He rooted around his mother's chest for milk. "Hungry, Mama," he said in his adorable baby voice.

She picked him up. "In a minute, my darling." She turned to the Rakshas. "Brother, I would like for you to teach him to swim."

He nodded. "I'll come tomorrow morning."

"What do we say, Gatotkacha?" Hidimba nudged her son.

The boy looked up at the Rakshas. "Thank yew!"

"Thank you, Uncle," she said.

"Thank yew, Uncle," Gatotkacha repeated, like a parrot.

Hidimba nodded at the man, who turned and left the clearing in silence. Hidimbe hugged her baby, and took him inside to breastfeed. "Little Prince," she whispered, gazing down at him with love as he fed.


To be continued...
Click here for the next part.

Gatotkacha - Demon Son Part II

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 


This is the second part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son. Click to read the first part. Last week we saw that Gatotkach was special, and showed his specialness only moments after his birth. This is what happened next:


Gatotkacha was a month old but the size of a five-year-old. He was sturdy on his feet, his hands grabbing at all things in curiosity. And his strength was phenomenal, like his father's. He liked to pick up pebbles and crush them so the dust flew everywhere. He threw a stick once into the air and it hit a bird high up in the sky who fell down, dead.

Bhima carved him animal toys out of wood and Hidimba knotted him human toys out of dried grass and they both told him it was fun to play with his toys, instead of crushing them or throwing them.

Bhima devised games and stories for his son, climbing trees together and building forts from sticks. He carved a ball from wood that Gatotkacha could roll around the floor and chase, showing him a different way to employ his strength.

Hidimba cooked food that the boy ate almost constantly, although he still liked her milk. It was becoming difficult to breastfeed him since he was growing his teeth but she tried to keep her son as happy as possible since the ground shook whenever he wailed from hunger.

Gatotkacha didn't speak yet but he understood everything they told him. He slept ten hours a day, which gave his exhausted parents time to rest and garner their strength for his next antics.

One day, Bhima and Hidimba sat together watching him play all around the cave with his toys.

"I love him. But why did he have to come so soon?" Hidimba whispered.

"I know," Bhima said. "And why did he have to grow so fast? I thought it would take longer, that we would have time..."

They'd received word that Bhima's family were in the city of Ekchakra, living in disguise. Kunti and the Pandavas had heard of Hidimba's son and sent congratulations and blessings.

They both fell into silence, not wanting to face it.

Finally, Bhima sighed. "I have to go to them."

Hidimba closed her eyes.

"It's my duty. My duty," he said, as if repeating a mantra. "Elder Brother is the Crown Prince, he is the heir to Hastinapur. It's my job to protect him for the people."

Hidimba opened her eyes. Gatotkacha was babbling as he played, knocking his toys together and rolling them around the floor. He wasn't speaking yet, just blurting adorable sounds at his parents when something pleased him.

"I just wish Gatotkacha hadn't grown so fast," Bhima whispered. "I wanted to be here. I wanted to teach him."

"We knew this day would come," Hidimba said. "Do not worry, my lord. I will teach him."

The next day Hidimba packed food into a bundle for her husband, rice and bread and vegetables.

Bhima cut off the dreadlocks he'd sported for the past year, gazing regretfully at them as they lay in a heap on the floor. He then changed into his one pair of cotton garments, abandoning the grass clothes and beads that he'd worn for Hidimba.

She waited at the door of their cave, holding Gatotkacha sleeping on her shoulder. As Bhima came to her, she looked up at him with a calm face. "We will be here," she told him. "Whenever you want to see us, we will be here." She handed him the bundle of food.

Bhima embraced them both, and they stood there for a long time, not wanting to let go.

Finally, she pushed him away. "You can't forget your dharma, my lord. Neither of us can forget that."

Their son woke up and was instantly hungry, rooting around his mother's chest. Bhima kissed Gatotkacha's chubby cheek and the boy reached out eagerly, looking to pull his father's dreadlocks. He blinked in confusion when he couldn't find them.

"Goodbye, my son," Bhima whispered.

A little frown puckered the boy's brow as he looked up at his father. He held out his arms, expecting Bhima to take him.

"No," Hidimba said. "Stay with me, Gatotkacha."

The little boy struggled but Hidimba controlled him and Bhima stepped back to calm his son down. "It's alright, son," Bhima said. "It's going to be alright. I'll see you soon."

With one last look at Hidimba, Bhima stepped out of the cave and walked away.

Hidimba waited until Bhima's back was turned to let her tears fall.

Gatotkacha looked his mother's weeping face, then at his father's turned back.

"Papa," he said. His first word.


To be continued...

Click here for the next part.

Gatotkacha - Demon Son

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above. 

In the last series, Hidimba - Demon Love, we saw that Bhima married a demoness. They were both teenagers when they wed and their time together was planned to be only brief. However, though it was brief, it bore a mighty fruit in the form of a son. This is the story of that son, Gatotkacha.


Hidimba and Bhima were very happy together. The other Rakshas were at first outraged by her alliance to a human but when they saw what Bhima had done to Hidimb, they muted their objections. Rakshas' respected strength and Bhima was certainly not weak.

He and Hidimba lived together for one year in a cave home deep in the mountainside, surrounded by forest. At the end of that time Hidimba gave birth to a son. Bhima was with her, and cradled his tiny baby in his big hands as the midwife took care of her.

But Hidimba rose from her childbed, only moments after the afterbirth was taken away.

"What are you doing?" Bhima asked his wife as the Rakshas midwife cleaned up the rest of the room. "Get back into bed."

"I'm fine," Hidimba said. She held out her hands for the baby and, feeling stupid, Bhima gave him to her. "You don't understand, my lord, but that's alright. You'll see soon enough." She walked through their cave home, to where their altar to Mother Durga stood, Bhima trailing her in anxiety.

"You should be lying down," he told Hidimba, as if he knew anything about having babies.

"Shhhh," she told him, and lay their baby at Mother Durga's feet.

"Divine Mother," Hidimba said, folding her palms together, "I present to you your son. Bless him with strength and protect him with your love."

Even as Bhima watched, their son grew until he was the size of a large toddler. He rolled onto his stomach, then crawled on his knees, then stood up and waddled over to Hidimba. She laughed and picked him up, hugging him to her bosom.

Bhima gaped. "Does that work for all babies?"

She laughed again, "No, my lord. Only for Rakshas. It's Mother's blessing to us, though we are not worthy. We're never vulnerable for long."

All that growing must have built up an appetite because Bhima's son was rubbing his nose around Hidimba's chest, looking for food. Hidimba sat down, arranged him on her lap by moving her grass coverings aside, and began to breastfeed. The baby suckled eagerly, clasping her bead necklace as he ate.

Bhima watched, fascinated. Slowly, he knelt next to her, watching the two of them with wide eyes. He reached out and cupped the baby's head, being so careful not to hurt it. "He's still bald, even though he grew so much," he whispered.

She nodded, smiling down at their son.

"Is that normal, my lady?"

She shook her head, then smiled wryly at him. "None of this is normal, my lord. It's different for each Rakshas. We all have our own gifts."

Bhima stroked the baby's tender soft head, smooth of any hair or even any down. It was so round also, he'd never seen such a round head. "Gatotkacha," he said softly, thinking of the smooth underside of a cooking pot.

"You're always thinking of food," Hidimba told him.

"No. Gatotkacha," he said. "That's what we'll name him."

She looked at him, then back at their baby. "Yes, Gatotkacha."

They watched the baby feed, suckling strongly, then more softly as it became sleepy. "Gatotkacha," Hidimba whispered to it. "You are Rakshas, but you are also Arya. You're a son of the Kuru clan."

Gatotkacha opened his sleepy eyes, dark and deep, and looked at his mother.

"You're a warrior, like your father," Hidimba told him, touching his tender fat cheek.

The baby just listened, looking quietly up at her.

"You must work hard to be worthy of that honour," she told him.

"We must all work hard to be worthy," Bhima said, his finger tracing the lines of Gatotkacha's baby ear. "For all our blessings, we must strive to be worthy."

Gatotkacha blinked up at his parents, then fell asleep.


To be continued... 
Click here to read the next Mahabharat post.
Click here to read the previous Mahabharat post entitled Intense.

Intense

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above.


It's Friday and things are hotting up where I live. Not weather-wise, (I'm sitting here in a blanket with the heating on) but in other ways.

I've been traveling a lot recently. I haven't shared any of those experiences with you and I know some of you may have wondered about that. It's just been so personal, so intense, that I didn't want to speak it out loud for fear that it would slip away.

You see, I think I've found my spiritual master. It's not definite - I don't know for sure. I certainly can't say for sure when I haven't been accepted, because that would be improper. Still, I believe in my heart that I have found the One. Like Arjuna found his Guru Drona. And Upmanyu found his Guru Ayuddhaumya.

Now I have to prove myself worthy of that master and that is a terrifying prospect. This isn't about proving myself in some silly material way. The Hindu scriptures explain that there are only two people we need to prove anything towards. Our Guru. And Our God. That's it. But I'm no Upmanyu and I'm certainly not Arjuna.

So what do I do? I pray and pray and pray. And I look to the Mahabharat, hoping for inspiration.

And the Mahabharat leads me to Gatotkacha, the son of Bhima and Hidimba. Half Arya, half Raksha, Gatodgatcha's character makes me shake inside at the truth of his story. The journey he led, the sacrifices he made, all so that one day he might be worthy...

I'll tell you his story. Meet me here next week, and I'll tell you all about it.


Go here to read the first part of Gatotkacha - Demon Son.

Click here to read last week's Mahabharat post, entitled Hidimba - Demon Love Part II.

Hidimba - Demon Love Part II

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above.


This is the second part of my Hidimba - Demon Love series. To read the first part go here. I've made you wait a long time for the continuation of this story. I'm very sorry. It's just that life got rather interesting for a while and I wasn't able to write as normal. I'll tell you all about it another time but for now, here's your Friday sweet. I should warn you though, this installment is a little graphic. There's violence, and blood, and gore. Please use discretion around the kids.


Last time we saw that Hidimba, a demon girl, fell in love with Bhima, one of the Pandava brothers, and tried to protect him from her own brother, the demon Hidimb. This is what happened next:

Bhima crawled through the undergrowth, coming up and around the path of the pretty girl. He’d sensed that someone had been watching his family but he he'd not known it was a female until he’d turned and looked at her. That was when he knew she wasn’t a threat. Not because she was female but because she’d looked at him with gentle eyes.

Other than Arjuna, Bhima’s night vision was the best in his family. And that was saying a lot since there were no better warriors in the world than his brothers. So when he’d looked at the girl, he’d noted her tribal clothing and demon marks. She wasn’t a threat, but he still wanted to know if there were other demons close by. He’d move his family to safety if there were.

So here he was, following the female through the night, wondering why she was taking such a meandering path. Perhaps she was hunting but there was no co-ordination to her steps, no intent. Many times he had to scramble away to avoid her accidentally bumping towards him.

He mentally calculated the path to where his family lay and knew that they were within sound distance. The girl was heading north now, of a fashion, and the brush was heavy but Arjuna’s hearing was like a wolf. He’d know if there was trouble. Really, it was a wonder Arjuna wasn’t awake already, Bhima mused. He must be really tired.

Bhima saw the girl move through a thick brush and slam into something. Not something, someone. A huge demon! Bhima was a big man himself and had trained with some massive warriors but he’d never seen anyone like this. The Rakshas was dark skinned and muscular, with tattoos on his cheeks and shoulders. His hair was black and red with dreadlocks and braids running through it. Bhima wondered what he himself would look like with dreadlocks, he quite liked the look of them. And so practical in the forest!

The two Rakshas were talking but their voices were low. It seemed to Bhima that the female was trying to prevent the demon from heading in the direction of his family. When the gigantic terror tried to brush past her, she grabbed his arm.

Something inside Bhima shifted at the sight of it. Just a few days ago Bhima’s own cousin had tried to burn his family to death in a house fire, yet here was this demon girl who didn’t even know their names trying to protect them. Normally, it was Bhima who protected his family - no one had ever tried to protect him.

She suddenly dropped to her knees, cowering. She was weeping. The demon was about to strike her!

 “Halt!” Bhima leaped from his hiding place. “How dare you raise your hand against a lady!”

The massive Rakshas looked towards Bhima, growling. He shifted his stance, like a predator sighting his prey.

Bhima stared back, readying his own muscles for a fight but not being so obvious about it. In his peripheral vision he could see the girl getting to her feet, looking quickly between him and the demon.

She spoke: “It’s not-"

“Shut your traitor mouth!” the demon roared at her. “I’ll kill this human and his family and then I’ll take care of you.”

“Why don’t you come over here and try that, Rakshas?” Bhima said, moving back and to the left. “Are you a coward who doesn’t fight warriors his own size? Do you only abuse females and children?” He continued moving.

“My size?” the Rakshas laughed. “My size?”

Even as Bhima watched, the demon grew in size, getting taller and broader until the trees around them were bent backwards and broken. Bhima swallowed. Well, he'd asked, hadn't he? “Do you only fight tree branches?" He taunted. "Are you afraid of an actual opponent?”

The Rakshas growled and took one step forward. He was now right in front of Bhima, who kept moving backwards, skirting around trees and brush in the dark as though he’d memorized the terrain - which he had. Warriors must always pay attention to their surroundings, Guru Drona had said.

Back beneath the banyan tree, Arjuna awoke at a slight tremble in the earth. He saw that Bhima was missing and woke everyone else. They rushed north towards the growing sounds of commotion in the distance.

“What do you do when you want to sleep?”  Bhima was asking the Rakshas, still moving backwards, northwest, drawing him away from the girl and his own family. “Do you uproot a mountain and use it as a blanket? And what about when you pass wind? Do all the birds drop out of the sky, dead from the poisonous fumes?”

The Rakshas took another step but this one was meant to squish Bhima where he stood. Bhima leaped out of the way and continued backing up, even as the ground shook beneath him from the demon’s foot. “When you snore do you cause earthquakes?” he asked. The Rakshas slashed at him with a gigantic hand but Bhima rolled and came up on the other side. “When you were born did your mother pray to the Gods to make you less ugly?”

This time, when the Rakshas slashed, Bhima was ready to grab it and twist. But then the strangest thing happened. Even though he’d braced his feet in the dirt and had the perfect stance to absorb the impact of the blow, he went sliding backward, out of reach of the giant.

Bhima blinked and looked at his feet, but only for a moment. He looked back up at the demon just as he was about to be hammered into the ground. Yet, suddenly, he went sliding backwards again, around trees and boulders, out of the demon’s reach. Bhima picked himself up and looked around. There was the girl, she’d followed them! She was standing behind the Rakshas and Bhima was furious with her for not staying far away where she would be safe. Get back, get away, he wanted to shout at her, but there was no time.

The demon moved to stomp on him again and Bhima was ready to jump. His plan was to use the demon's own blows against him. Then when he was tired, Bhima would go for the back of his neck and end this duel.

He went sliding backwards again. Astonished, frustrated, Bhima looked around to find out what was going on. A glance at the girl with her hand up made him realize. She was doing it. She was pushing him back, trying to protect him!

Of course. She didn’t know about his own great strength, Bhima thought. How could she? He shook his head at her to indicate that, no, he didn’t need help.

Her plump lips parted in dismay. She shook her head, frantic.

Bhima frowned. He jerked his head to the side to order her back, away from danger.

She frowned and shook her head again, emphatic.

Bhima groaned. He’d have to prove it to her. Offense, he thought, and pivoted. He took a running leap and backhanded the Rakshas at the ankle. Due to the celestial gifts Bhima had received, a blow from him was the equivalent of a blow from seventy thousand elephants.

The demon howled and stepped back. In the confusion, Bhima climbed up the trunk-like leg, using the demon’s leg hairs and tribal clothes as ropes and hand holds. He reached the knee and climbed around it to balance in front. He brought both hands together to smash them into the demon’s humungous kneecap.

As the Pandavas approached the scene of Bhima balanced precariously over the giant’s knee, Yudhistira halted his younger brothers, their mother Kunti safely behind them.

“Will you look at that Rakshas?” Nakula gasped.

Arjuna moved to help Bhima but Yudhistira grabbed his arm. “No, Arjuna. Two against one is not fair.”

“But that’s a giant!” Arjuna said.

“And our Bhima is a son of the Wind God.” Yudhistira reminded him. “One could argue that he has an unfair advantage. Just watch.”

The brothers and Kunti watched in anxiety as the demon knocked Bhima off his leg and stepped back, clutching his knee.

Bhima hit the ground and rolled, coming up into a defensive position in one smooth motion. He knew he had to attack again, and quickly, to keep the girl out of the fray. He was terrified the demon would see that she was helping him and kill her.

The Rakshas uprooted a tree and threw it at him.

Bhima jumped out of the way, then around it, taking cover in its thick branches and leaves.

“You can’t hide, little human,” the demon taunted.

But Bhima was using the cover to run all the way to another tree in the distance. He was halfway up the standing tree trunk when the Rakshas lifted the fallen tree away, thinking to expose Bhima’s hiding place. Bhima continued climbing. He grabbed a vine and swung, grasping the strong threads beneath his fingers, reaching another tree closer to the demon’s head. He grabbed another vine and swung again to another tree closer still. He leaped and landed just between the giant’s shoulder blades, clutching one of his thick wiry dreadlocks. It felt rather like a tree vine only tougher.

The demon swatted at him but Bhima went sliding down the dreadlock, his elbow ready. Putting the full force of his strength into the blow, Bhima slammed his elbow into the base of the giant’s spine. There was a shattering crack.

Almost in slow motion, the demon crumpled to the ground, his legs rendered useless by the attack.

Bhima was in the wrong position to leap out of the way but then he was yanked backwards, clear out from under the giant’s collapsing body! On his knees, catching his breath, he looked at the girl across the clearing. He almost smiled - maybe he needed her help after all. He nodded his thanks.

She stared back, her big eyes unblinking, her hands still in a yanking motion. Bhima rose and ran to the demon’s head.

The Rakshas lay on his back, dazed.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Bhima told the Rakshas as the sounds of the terrible fall still reverberated around the forest, making the trees shudder and the earth moan.

The demon roared his fury and reached out to catch Bhima, who ducked and nimbly skirted out of the way. With a vicious sound between his teeth, the Rakshas used his arms and shoulders to turn over onto his stomach. It was a mistake.

Bhima vaulted onto his back and grabbed the giant’s right arm, twisting it backwards in its socket. The demon moaned in agony, trying to catch him with his left hand. Bhima brought the right arm back out of reach and over the demon’s head, in a totally unnatural position. There was a snap and a horrible ripping sound as Bhima tore the limb off. He tossed it away.

“You won’t be raising that hand to any more women now, will you?” Bhima asked as the demon screamed his pain. “No, nor this one,” he said, grabbing the other hand. The demon fought and writhed but Bhima still tore the limb off and threw it away.

“Back home in Hastinapur,” Bhima told the still screaming demon, “we call that justice. But don’t worry. You won’t be in pain for long.”

The giant lay there, sobbing into the earth. His legs were useless, his arms ripped away. There was only one thing left for Bhima to do. He climbed up another tree. The branches towards the top thinned out and as he scooted onto one such branch, it bent, looming over the demon’s head.

“Say your last prayers, Rakshas,” Bhima said, standing perfectly balanced on the branch. “And when you meet your brethren in the afterlife, tell them that Bhima, son of Kunti, did this to you. Tell them that any man who hurts a woman will meet the same fate. Tell them to warn their offspring that this is the law of the land.”

He waited a few moments. Then Bhima dropped from the tree, elbow first. He slammed himself into the back of the demon’s head, crushing it. Bhima felt his elbow sink into skull and brain, and tasted the stench of death in the air. He wrenched himself out of the crater.

There was a silence in the forest around him. Breathing deeply, Bhima climbed down to the ground and used the demon’s tattered clothing to wipe the dirt from his body. He walked towards the girl. She was staring at him with an expression he didn’t recognize. She looked pale, even though she had dark skin. He stood before her, awkward. “You’re safe now,” he told her. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

His brothers and mother chose that moment to rush towards them.

“My darling, are you alright?” Kunti said, grabbing his face and turning him towards her. “You must be bruised all over!” she said, wiping the sweat off his brow with her sari.

“I’m fine, Mother.” His body still hummed from the fight, his blood pumping through his veins in excitement. His mother continued to tenderly pat his body, looking for injuries.

“Amazing fight!” Nakula said, grinning. “The way you shattered his spine, Guru Drona couldn’t have done it better!”

“It’s not a laughing matter, Nakula,” Yudhistira said. “A man is dead.” They all looked to the corpse with somber faces. “But it was well fought. You conducted yourself admirably,” Yudhistira told Bhima.

“I only fought him to protect the lady and you,” Bhima said quietly. “He would have killed you all.”

“I know,” Crown Prince Yudhistira told him. “You acted within the law.”

“And the lady was herself remarkable!” Arjuna exclaimed, smiling at the tribal girl. “We all saw how she helped you.”

The brothers all murmured agreements, looking at her with open curiosity.

Up until now, the pretty girl hadn’t said a word, merely stared from Bhima to each of them and back again. Bhima thought she was frightened but didn't know what to do to reassure her.

Kunti moved towards her. “Where is your home, child?” she asked. “We’ll see you there safely.”

Suddenly, the girl’s face crumpled and she fell at Kunti’s feet. Bhima moved to catch her, thinking she'd fainted but then she sobbed: “I have no home.”

“No home?” Kunti asked in dismay. She crouched down to the girl’s level. “But how-?”

The girl pointed at the demon’s corpse. “He was all I had in the world. He was my brother.”

Stunned, the Pandavas looked from the corpse to Bhima, who raised his hands to his head, horrified.

“You killed her brother?” Arjuna asked. “Did you know-?”

“Of course not!” Bhima said. “I saw him striking her and I-I-then he threatened to kill you all and I-"

“No,” the girl said to Bhima. “You were right to kill him. He was cruel. He wanted to eat you all. I tried to stop it but-but he is-was... He was my brother! And now I am an orphan. Now I have no one," she wept.

Bhima stared down at her, wanting to say something, do something to stop her tears, but he didn’t know what. He was stupid, stupid! He came to his knees beside her, and stayed silent.

“But why,” Sahadev asked, “why was he hurting you if he was your brother? Even in Rakshas clans the men protect the women.”

“He was angry because I fell in love.” The teenaged girl wiped her tears but more fell. “With you.” She gazed up at Bhima beside her, her plump lips trembling.

The Pandavas were dead silent. Then:

“Weeeeell,” Arjuna said, laughter in his voice.

“Shut up, Arjuna,” Bhima snapped. He gazed at the girl, feeling even more stupid than before. She was in love? With him? He didn’t understand. He’d never had a girl be in love with him before. He wasn’t handsome like his brothers. What was he supposed to say? Or do? He didn't know so he just kneeled mute, looking at her. Her dark skin was catching the early dawn whispers of light. It looked soft.

Kunti was still crouched besides the girl, and put her hand tenderly on the girl’s curly head. “What do you wish, my dear?”

The girl’s words were muffled but audible enough. “I wish to marry your son.”

Bhima felt his brothers gawk at him as he flushed red all over. He looked into the girl’s big dark eyes and felt a strange tightening in his belly.

Kunti smoothed the girl's black curls from her face, touching the tribal beads and demon marks at her temples. Kunti looked over at Yudhistira. “What does dharma say?”

“Dharma says it is wrong to leave a female unprotected and without family. Those responsible for leaving her without family must make restitution.”

Restitution, Bhima thought.

“Yet she is Rakshas,” Kunti said. “And Bhima could never remain here in the forest when he is needed in Hastinapur.”

Yudhistira smiled. “According to dharma, one is Rakshas by action as well as nature. We all saw her help Bhima against her own brother. Her actions speak for themselves.”

Kunti nodded slowly.

“But Bhima is a prince and his duty is to safeguard the nation,” Yudhistira continued. “That is a great and heavy destiny. Therefore, according to dharma, he cannot remain here in this forest.”

Kunti nodded again.

“You're our mother,” Yudhistira told her. “Whatever your decision is, it will be just.”

Kunti gazed from the girl to Bhima to the demon’s dead body behind them, thinking for several moments.

Bhima didn’t know what to think. He could feel the heat of the girls body beside him, felt the wetness of her tears as if they were against his own skin. All he knew was that each second before hearing his mother’s decision was an agony.

Kunti looked from the demon’s body to Bhima again, a strange look in her eye. “What is your name, my dear?” she asked the girl.

“Hidimba. And that was my brother Hidimb.”

Kunti wiped Hidimba’s tears. “If my son Bhima married you, he could never live in this forest forever. You understand that, don’t you?

Hidimba nodded. “And I could never leave this forest. It’s where my people belong,” she sighed, a breathy sound, and Bhima clenched his teeth. “But what if he were to stay with me until we had a son? Then he could come back to you and I would have family.”

A son! Bhima thought.

Kunti blinked. “Wouldn’t it make you unhappy if Bhima were to leave you?”

“Of course it would. But I’ll always love him regardless,” Hidimba told Kunti. “At least this way I get to have him for a little while. And I know,” she looked up at him, her face shining with worship, “I know he is a great warrior. You’ll need him in your kingdom. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him with me.”

Kunti embraced the girl fully, lovingly. “Your feelings do you great credit, Hidimba.” She pulled back and gently caused the girl to rise. “Bhima, come here,” she said, gesturing to him to rise also.

His brothers cheered and clapped him on the back after they pulled him up, to where his mother was standing with Hidimba. His mother took his big hand and placed Hidimba’s smaller hand inside it. “May you make each other happy,” she blessed them.

Bhima felt the girl’s palm and was amazed at its softness, its smallness. He closed his fingers around it gently, afraid he would hurt her. Hidimba intertwined her fingers with his and he felt a rush of warmth in his stomach.

Kunti ordered the younger brothers to go collect flowers and make the wedding garlands, since the sun was coming up. In the meantime she and Yudhistira would find water to wash the bride and groom.

As the younger brothers walked away to follow orders, Nakula said: “You know, they didn’t even ask Bhima if he wanted to marry her. Isn’t that a little unfair?”

Sahadev punched his shoulder. “You dolt. Look at that Rakshas.” Nakula glanced over at the dead body. “Bhima did that and all because Hidimb was hurting Hidimba.” Nakula was blank faced. Sahadev gave him an exasperated look. “Doesn’t a broken back, paralysed legs, arms torn off and smashed skull seem a little overzealous to you? He could have just taken Hidimb out at the neck and been done with it.”

A slow dawning came over Nakula’s face. “Oh!”

“Yes. And what about his speech at the end? ‘Tell your brethren Bhima did this to you.’ Talk about showing off!”

“Never mind that,” Arjuna said. “But who knew our Bhima was such a lady’s man?”

All three of them paused in their path through the forest and looked back in the distance to where Bhima and Hidimba were standing together. The betrothed were holding hands in the early dawn light, giving each other shy smiles, totally unaware that Kunti stood with them as chaperone.

Still amazed, the world's most powerful warriors went hunting for flowers.


Click here for the next Mahabharat post entitled Intense.