The sage Vedavyasa, endowed with a sacred mind and revered by sages, descended among the Pandavas. Equal in brilliance to Brahma, honoured by Brahmins, and radiant in form like a rain-laden cloud, he was the redeemer of sins, a living embodiment of virtue, as Kunti and her sons themselves were. His presence enlightened their hearts, and in deep reverence they bowed before him, washed his feet, and sprinkled the sanctified water upon their heads. With kindness, he spoke, saying, “Dhritarashtra, blinded by attachment to his sons, has stripped you of your rightful inheritance. Instead of restraining their wickedness, he has lent them his weight. Beware, for the wicked must never be trusted. I have come to counsel you: you know the path of dharma well, and though fate has distanced you from kinsmen, you must not grieve. In time, you shall rejoin your kin and rule the kingdom. This is the hermitage of Sage Salihotra, and by the power of his penance, this tree and this lake were formed. Drink of this water, and hunger and thirst shall not trouble you; this tree shall shield you from heat, cold, wind, and rain. Stay here for a while, then go in the guise of Brahmins to Ekachakrapura and await me.”
Vedavyasa then turned to Kunti, consoling her with the prophecy: “Your son Yudhishthira is the very soul of dharma. Like Narayana with his four arms, he shall rule with his brothers as his strength. He will perform the great yagas, the Ashvamedha and the Rajasuya, sanctifying the Kuru race.” Looking upon Hidimba, he said, “This maiden, subdued by Bhima, will bear him a mighty son. In times of peril, he shall come to your rescue.” Thus, blessing them, the sage departed with satisfaction.
The Pandavas dwelt peacefully in Salihotra’s hermitage. Bhima and Hidimbi wandered together through groves, mountains, and lakes filled with swans, herons, and cranes, bound by deep affection. Soon Hidimbi bore a son, Ghatotkacha, a fearsome rakshasa with dark complexion, fierce fangs, enormous ears, and eyes that struck terror. By a boon, he grew to manhood instantly, mastering martial arts, statecraft, and morals as though born with knowledge. Bowing to the Pandavas, he declared, “I shall lead hosts of rakshasas, but whenever you summon me, I shall come.” With his mother, he departed northward, leaving the Pandavas to continue their learning of dharma under Sage Salihotra.
When the time came, the brothers took leave, journeying through Vidarbha, Matsya, Trigarta, and the land of the Keechakas, until they reached Ekachakrapura. Disguised as Brahmins, with matted hair, wearing deerskin and linen, chanting the Vedas in celibate discipline, they stayed in the house of a Brahmin. Supported by the goodwill of the villagers, they lived on alms. Daily, the food collected was placed before Kunti, who divided it—one half for Bhima, the other for her four sons.
One day, while Yudhishthira and his brothers were away, Kunti and Bhima heard loud cries from the Brahmin’s household. Kunti, stirred with compassion, said, “We have lived here in safety, sheltered by this family. It is our duty to share in their sorrow. The highest virtue is to recognize goodness in others and repay it with greater kindness. Let us discover their grief, and if possible, relieve it.” The Brahmin, overwhelmed, revealed his plight: “Life is fleeting, full of sorrow and fear. Fate drives us apart from those we love, and karma binds us to suffering. A terrible demon on the banks of the Yamuna devours men and beasts. By pact, each household must send daily a cart of food, with a human victim and bulls. Today, it is my family’s turn. How can I give my wife, my daughter, or my son? Yet one of us must be sacrificed.”
At this, Kunti resolved firmly, “I have five sons. One I shall send in your son’s place. Fear not.” The Brahmin protested, “It is sinful to save one’s life by offering another’s. One who seeks refuge should never be betrayed.” Kunti replied, “True, yet my son is no ordinary being. He is sanctified by mantras, blessed with divine strength, and destined to slay demons. Many times, has he saved us. None may harm him. To repay your shelter, I pledge my son for this task.” She called Bhima, who readily obeyed.
When Yudhishthira returned, he questioned her resolve, fearing for Bhima’s life and recalling Hidimbi’s claim upon him. But Kunti stood steadfast: “Bhima’s body is adamantine, stronger than Indra himself. He alone can end this demon’s tyranny. To protect those who gave us refuge is our duty as Kshatriyas.” Her words moved Yudhishthira, who at last commended her wisdom and blessed Bhima for his task.
Thus Bhima, well-fed and rested, mounted the cart laden with food. Along the way, he ate it all, so that when he reached the demon Bakasura, nothing remained. The rakshasa, inflamed with hunger, roared in fury, but Bhima, fearless, challenged him. Uprooting a great arjuna tree, he struck, and the demon struck back. The earth trembled beneath their combat. They grappled, trading mighty blows; Bhima seized Bakasura by the neck, crushing him with knees and fists, until the monster fell gasping. With a final heave, Bhima hurled him to the ground, stamping upon his throat until his life fled.
At the sound of his cries, the rakshasa’s kin rushed forth, but Bhima, towering like Yama, warned them never again to harm mankind. Awed, they swore obedience and fled. Dragging Bakasura’s carcass to the city gates, Bhima left it as a sign of deliverance. The people, freed from terror, hailed him with joy and honored Kunti with gratitude. For indeed, it is the law of nature that those who act with righteous intent shall prevail, and victory is assured to the virtuous.
