Janamejaya then inquired of Vaisampayana: “Our forefathers, the Pandavas, are beings of wondrous distinction, a treasury of noble qualities, steadfast guardians of dharma. Anyone who contemplates them with a clear mind sees at once the splendour of their virtues and the uniqueness of their forms. Tell me, how did they, with Draupadi beside them, pass unseen by their foes through the year of concealment?”
Vaisampayana replied: “When the years of exile had at last run their course, the Lord of Justice himself appeared before them and granted this boon—that for one full year none might recognise them. Remembering the Brahmins who had endured the hardships of the forest by their side day and night, the Pandavas approached them with folded hands. ‘Revered ones,’ they said, ‘you know well the wickedness of Duryodhana. You, too, have suffered the heat, hunger, and wandering of the wilderness with us. Twelve years have somehow passed; this is the thirteenth, in which we must dwell unseen. Our enemies—Duryodhana, Duḥśāsana, Karna, and Shakuni—will search for us tirelessly, and even the faintest clue would condemn us to endless misery. Bless us that we may complete this perilous vow without obstruction. May we cross this difficult passage and dwell in peace among Brahmins and our kin. Has any man ever faced such a trial?’ At these words, Dharmaraja’s voice quivered with grief, his eyes burning with tears.
Those around him consoled him, and the priest Dhaumya, striving to steady his heart, spoke: ‘O Dharmaraja, you are known far and wide for righteousness without equal, for clarity in judgement, courage, noble affection, and mastery of every duty. Your strength and skill are proven. When a steadfast man such as yourself falls into misfortune, it does not lessen his dignity. Even the gods, though mighty, often bide their time before revealing their power. Indra once lived unseen on the slopes of Niṣāda’s mountains. Hari dwelt as an embryo in Aditi’s womb before rising as Vamana. The Sun himself took refuge in the form of a cow. These were beings of supreme brilliance who endured trials and overcame their foes at the appointed hour. You too will endure this hardship, avenge the insults heaped upon you, and quench the fire of humiliation.’
Dharmaraja, comforted, turned to his brothers. Bhīma spoke: ‘In the royal hall, before the elders, Draupadi was disgraced. Had you not restrained him, Arjuna, fierce as a war-elephant, would have crushed them all and brought the Kauravas to kneel before you.’ Dharmaraja listened, his face softened with gratitude. The Brahmins blessed them once more. That night, with Dhaumya, Draupadi, and his brothers by his side, Dharmaraja rested briefly, pondering the course ahead.
Near dawn, he addressed Arjuna: ‘If we wander together with Draupadi, we shall be recognised. What is the surest way to pass our year unseen?’ Arjuna replied: ‘By the grace of Yama, who admired your steadfast virtue, we are shielded from discovery. The lands surrounding the Kuru realm—the kingdoms of Cedi, Matsya, Salva, Bāhlīka, Daśārṇa, Sūrasena, Kaliṅga, and Magadha—are rich, peaceful, and well-governed. We may dwell safely in any of them.’
Dharmarāja answered: ‘Your words are true; a divine boon cannot fail. Tell me which land is best suited for our obscurity.’ After reflection, he declared: ‘The king of Matsya is upright, beloved by the virtuous, strong, and courageous. Among all realms, Matsya seems most fitting. In the court of Virāṭa, we may each undertake a task and fulfil our vow. Speak now, without concealment, what each of us shall do to win the king’s favour.’
Arjuna looked upon him and said gently: ‘You possess the finest bearing—self-respect, your bright jewel, purity your constant companion, dignity, peace, restraint, sacrifice, compassion, and truth dwelling in you as one. Yet you have never served another, for your nature is to command, not obey. How will you, born to rule, serve an ordinary king?’ Dharmarāja perceived his brother’s inner concern but set it aside for the moment, as clarity was demanded.
‘I shall enter his court as a wandering ascetic,’ he said, ‘and speak to him of sacred lore. I am versed in Veda and Śāstra, in omens and the stars. I shall delight him with tales of virtue and with harmless games of dice. If he asks of my past, I shall say that I was a companion of Dharmaraja.’
Then he turned to Bhīma. ‘You subdued the Yakṣas and brought the fragrant lotus for Draupadi. You slew the rakshasa Kimiṁra, freed Ekacakrapura from terror by killing Bakāsura, and rescued us from Jatāsura. From childhood, you have lived with the untamed pride of immense strength. How will you live as another man’s servant?’
Bhīma replied: ‘I shall serve Virāṭa as a cook. I shall prepare pure and delicious food, varied in flavour—sweet, sour, sharp, and rich—pleasing to the king’s heart. I do not mind the labour of chopping wood or carrying loads; such tasks suit my strength. I shall earn the goodwill of the head cook, excel in wrestling, astonish the king with feats of strength, and tame wild beasts for his delight. Let me be known as Vallabha. If he questions me, I shall say I once cooked for Dharmarāja.’
Dharmarāja accepted his plan with satisfaction. Thus, Vaiśampāyana continued to recount how each Pāṇḍava, for the sake of the others, shaped himself anew. Their conduct is a wondrous lesson: they lived not for themselves but for one another, measuring their own strengths and understanding the gifts of their brothers. Such unity is a lamp for the ages, guiding all who behold it toward wisdom and the righteous way.
