Through harsh terrain and winding paths, Kunti and the Pandavas pressed forward. They crossed glittering lakes, ferried restless rivers, climbed rugged mountain passes, and wandered through dense forests without respite, covering vast distances. As they journeyed, there arose before them the august figure of Vyasa—the sage of sages, the remover of ignorance, the incarnation of Vishnu Himself. Startled and reverent, the Pandavas bowed low, offering homage with folded hands. With gracious calm he said, “Wherever Dharmaraja abides, Dharma shall never suffer. Yet, my sons, let virtue be your constant way, and carry yourselves with spotless humility.”
Then he revealed a tale of destiny. In an earlier age, a hermit’s maiden, unable by fate to secure a husband, undertook severe penance to win the grace of Lord Shiva. Appearing before her, the great God granted her wish, for she implored five times for a husband. He declared that in her next birth she would indeed be wedded to five. Thus, was she born anew as Krishna, the daughter of King Drupada of Panchala, for whom a Swayamvara was soon to be held. Vyasa counseled the brothers: “Go straight to Drupadapura, for there your fortune awaits.” With renewed spirit they traveled ceaselessly, day and night.
At midnight, as they reached the Somasrava ford of the Ganga, they prepared to bathe in her sacred waters. Arjuna, torch in hand to ward off beasts and pierce the dark, strode before the rest. At that moment appeared Angaraparna, a Gandharva, come with his consorts to revel in the waters. Disturbed by the sounds of men at such an hour, he grew wrathful. Stringing his bow, he thundered, “Know this is the time of spirits, Yakshas, Danavas, and Rakshasas, when mortals dare not wander. Who intrudes upon my sport shall not be spared. I am Angaraparna, companion of Kubera, well known along these forests and banks. Turn back, for men tread here only in fear.”
But Arjuna stood firm and replied with fearless dignity: “The timid may shun the midnight, but heroes do not. The forests, the rivers, and the holy Ganga herself belong to all beings; none may claim dominion over them. This river flows from the matted locks of Shiva, descends the Himalaya, courses through heaven as Mandakini, streams beneath as Bhogavati, and sanctifies all three worlds. You have no right to deny us her waters.”
The Gandharva, enraged, loosed arrows at Arjuna. Unmoved, the prince deflected them with his torch and declared, “O ignorant one, your shafts cannot harm warriors like us. Behold the Agneyastra—born of Agni, passed through Brihaspati, Parashurama, and Drona, and given to me.” With that, he launched the fiery missile, which consumed the Gandharva’s chariot and cast him to the ground in terror. Arjuna seized him by the hair and dragged him before Yudhishthira.
But the Gandharva’s wife, Kumbhinasi, fell at their feet and pleaded for mercy. Ever compassionate, Yudhishthira commanded release, saying, “One vanquished, broken of spirit and bereft of valor, deserves pardon.” Arjuna obeyed, setting the foe free. Humbled, Angaraparna spoke: “O Arjuna, I was consumed by your fire and defeated in fair combat. Tradition forbids the conquered from bearing proud titles. From this day, let me be called Chitraratha, for by my power I can fashion resplendent chariots adorned with jewels and carvings. Accept me as your friend. In return, I bestow upon you the sacred Chakshushi Vidya, the vision that reveals the three worlds—handed down from Manu to Chandra, to Viswavasu, and through penance to me. It grants freedom from both divine and mortal fear, though it shuns the wicked. Accept it with a vow of six months. In exchange, grant me the Agneyastra, and I shall give you a hundred Gandharva steeds, swift as thought.”
Arjuna replied nobly, “I take nothing from compulsion, nor wealth nor knowledge beyond friendship freely given. Yet if you will, let this be an exchange of honor: the horses for the weapon, and our bond of amity sealed. Ever do we honor the Brahmins and abide by Dharma.”
Then Chitraratha confessed, “I wronged you with harsh words only to assert myself before my consorts. Know, however, that I already recognized your lineage, famed from Narada and the Siddhas as the sons of Bharata’s line, crowned with Mount Meru itself. Even gods, Nagas, and Rakshasas cannot prevail against kings sanctified by Brahmins chanting the Vedas. Remember always that without a true Brahmin guide, a king’s glory falters. A wise Purohit, versed in Dharma, Artha, Kama, and Moksha, is the firm pillar of a righteous throne.”
Thus, the Gandharva instructed, praising the Pandavas’ birth of divine grace and urging them to uphold their bond with Brahmins. And Arjuna, eager for truth, asked, “Tell me, O sacred one, why call us of the Tapati lineage when we are the sons of Kunti?” The Gandharva smiled, prepared to unfold yet another secret of destiny. And thus, under the unseen blessings of Vyasa, the Pandavas walked onward, gathering the harvest of fortune that awaited them.
