King Rituparna, as he entered the quiet precincts of Vidarbha, marvelled at the calm air that gently moved about him. The people went about in a tranquil manner, free from the usual bustle and excitement of a royal gathering. Nowhere did he perceive the noise or haste that generally marks a swayamvara. The silence puzzled him. He mused that perhaps no kings had come, and that the princes of Vidarbha, abandoning propriety, had already accepted another’s claim. He reproached himself for harbouring even a passing thought of Damayanthi in such a manner.
Meanwhile, Bahuka, having tended to his steeds and secured them in the stable, rested quietly near his chariot. Damayanthi, catching sight of Bahuka along with Varshneya and King Rituparna, felt her heart sink in disappointment. Summoning her wise attendant Kesini, she said, “That is Rituparna, the king. Varshneya is known to me as the charioteer of Nala. But who is that third person? Go, find out.”
Kesini approached Bahuka with graceful courtesy and said, “Damayanthi, the queen of Vidarbha, has sent me to inquire after your welfare and the purpose of your coming.” Bahuka replied, “The king has journeyed hither to witness the swayamvara that was proclaimed to invite princes from many lands. The noble Rituparna, master of royal conduct, wished to behold the occasion, and thus we traversed this great distance in a single day.”
When Kesini asked about his companions, Bahuka explained, “That man is Varshneya, once the charioteer of King Nala. When Nala lost his kingdom to Pushkara, Varshneya joined the court of Rituparna. Therefore, he knows not the present whereabouts of Nala. Only Damayanthi, who followed him into the forest, or Nala himself, can tell where he may be. Others know nothing. It is said that Nala left his faithful wife alone in a desolate wood, without compassion. How could such a noble one forsake a jewel of chastity? Her piercing words now echo in my heart like sharp needles, drawing tears from my eyes.” Saying so, he turned his face away in sorrow.
Kesini returned and reported all to Damayanthi. Her suspicions deepened, for the manner, speech, and emotion of Bahuka seemed none other than Nala’s. To confirm her thought, she had food prepared by Bahuka’s hands. When she tasted it, the flavour and fragrance struck her heart with certainty—it was Nala’s own art. Kesini further reported that Bahuka possessed extraordinary skill: he could press mere blades of grass between his palms and kindle an unfading fire without fuel, and his cooking, rich in scent and savour, delighted all who partook of it.
Damayanthi, now almost assured, sent her son and daughter to visit him. When Bahuka saw the children, his heart overflowed with emotion. He embraced them with trembling hands, remarking that they resembled his own, yet quickly composed himself and said, “They remind me of my children; thus, I felt drawn for a moment. But, Kesini, do not come here often. We are strangers in this place, and idle talk may arise. Attend to your duties.”
Kesini repeated his words faithfully. Damayanthi, hearing them, felt joy spring within her and confided in her mother, “He is none other than Nala, the illustrious king of Nishada. Every mark confirms it. My heart is certain.” Her mother, wise and patient, sought the king’s permission, and Bahuka was summoned to Damayanthi’s presence.
When Nala beheld her—her face pale with fasting, her body frail, her eyes filled with tears—he stood motionless, torn between recognition and doubt. His form, disfigured by the curse, betrayed him not. Damayanthi, unable to restrain herself, spoke with a trembling voice, “When I was left alone in the wild forest, weary and helpless, who but my lord Nala could have so abandoned me? Before the sacred fire and the gods, we were joined; I spurned even the guardians of the universe for your sake. I bore your children, and yet you left me without compassion. What wrong had I done? You once said you would never forsake me—how did you forget?”
Nala, moved beyond measure, confessed, “I was possessed by Kali, and my reason was lost. My sufferings were born of that delusion. By penance and your prayers, I am now freed. I came here to test your mind. But, beloved, it grieves me that you have declared a swayamvara, for it is unworthy of a wife and mother to do so.”
Damayanthi, fearful yet resolute, folded her hands and said, “O noble one, the learned Brahmana Parnada found you in Rituparna’s court. I sent Sudeva only to inform the king, for none but you could cover such vast distance in a single day. I swear upon your sacred feet that not a shadow of sin entered my mind. If falsehood lies in my heart, may the Sun, Fire, Moon, and the guardians of the world strike me down.”
Then, from the heavens, a mighty voice of Vayu resounded, “O Nala, best of kings, Damayanthi is pure. She is the crown among chaste women. The Sun, the Moon, and I have guarded her for three years. Accept her with faith and love.” Divine flowers rained from the sky, celestial drums resounded, and the air was filled with fragrance.
Nala, radiant with joy, remembered the serpent Karkotaka’s boon. Wrapping himself in the celestial garment he had received, he stood transformed—his golden hue gleamed like the moon emerging from cloud, his strong limbs and noble bearing rivalled Indra himself. Damayanthi’s happiness knew no bounds. Her kin rejoiced, and her beauty, adorned with silks and sandal, shone like Lakshmi beside her lord. Their reunion was like that of Rohini and Chandra.
King Bhima celebrated their union with great rites. Rituparna, witnessing the splendour, bowed to Nala, saying, “I, unaware of your greatness, placed you as my charioteer. Forgive me.” Nala imparted to him the sacred science of Ashvahridaya and sanctified him with ritual grace. Thereafter, Rituparna returned to Ayodhya, and Nala dwelt in Vidarbha for a month. Leaving Damayanthi and the children there, he gathered his forces—sixteen elephants, fifty horses, and six hundred foot soldiers—and marched to Nishada.
Before Pushkara he spoke, “O king, if you still desire the game of dice, I stake Damayanthi, and you stake your kingdom with all its wealth. Or, if you prefer combat, let us mount our chariots and meet in battle. The brave alone deserves to rule.” Pushkara, recalling his past victory, chose dice. But this time Nala, his mind purified and his skill perfected, triumphed and reclaimed his realm. He said to Pushkara, “Do not mistake my past defeat for your strength. Then I was bound by Kali. You are my kinsman, my father’s brother’s son; I bear no hatred.” Thus, he restored him honourably and reigned in peace.
In time, Damayanthi and her children joined him in Nishada, and they ruled in righteousness, performing many sacred rites according to Vedic order.
O Dharmaja, grieve not for your loss in the game of dice. By divine grace, human effort, and steadfastness, you too shall prevail. Thus did the sage Brihadasva impart to him the secret lore of Akshahridaya, its sanctity and use. Whoever listens to the tale of Nala and Damayanthi is freed from the touch of Kali, blessed with children, and purified of all vices. The remembrance of Damayanthi’s virtue, Karkotaka’s grace, the divine favour to Nala, and Rituparna’s noble conduct dispels all darkness and brings peace to the world.
