Mahabharata · Chapter 13a · Part 3 of 3 · Gandhamadana: Bhima meets Hanuman, the saugandhika lake, Jatasura, Kubera

About 115 minutes · in 4 sittings

The seven Gangas and the road to Mandara: Lomasha’s prayer to the river, Bhima’s promise, and Yudhishthira’s cry for Arjuna

Descendant of Bharata, king, Lomasha said, you have now left behind the mountains Ushirabija, Mainaka, and Shveta, and the Kala hills. Son of Kunti, here flow before you the seven Gangas. This spot is pure and holy. Here Agni blazes without pause. No son of Manu can obtain a sight of this wonder; so concentrate your mind, son of Pandu, that you may see these tirthas intently. Now you will see the playground of the gods, marked with their footprints, for we have passed the mountain Kala. We shall now ascend that white rock, the mountain Mandara, inhabited by the Yaksha Manibhadra and by Kubera, king of the Yakshas. Here eighty thousand fleet Gandharvas, and four times as many Kimpurushas and Yakshas of various shapes and forms holding various weapons, attend on Manibhadra. In these regions their power is very great; in speed they are as the wind; they could displace the lord of the celestials himself from his seat, without doubt. Protected by them, and watched by the Rakshasas as well, these mountains have been made inaccessible. So concentrate your thoughts, son of Pritha. Besides these, son of Kunti, here are the fierce ministers of Kubera and his Rakshasa kindred. We shall have to meet them, so gather up your energies. The mountain Kailasa, king, is six yojanas high. On it is a gigantic jujube tree. And numberless gods and Yakshas and Rakshasas and Kinnaras and Nagas and Suparnas and Gandharvas pass this way on their road to Kubera’s palace. King, protected by me, and by the might of Bhimasena, and by virtue of your own asceticism and self-command, mix with them today. May king Varuna and Yama the conqueror of battles, and Ganga, and Yamuna, and this mountain, and the Maruts and the twin Ashvins, and all rivers and lakes vouchsafe your safety. And, effulgent one, may you have safety from all the celestials and the Asuras and the Vasus. And then the sage turned from the king and addressed the river. Goddess Ganga, I hear your roar from this golden mountain sacred to Indra. Goddess of high fortune, in these mountain regions protect the king, worshiped by all of the Ajamidha race. Daughter of the mountain, this king is about to enter these regions; grant him your protection. Having spoken to the river, Lomasha said to Yudhishthira: be careful.

Yudhishthira had never seen the sage afraid. This confusion of Lomasha’s is unprecedented, he said. So protect Krishna, all of you, and do not be careless. Lomasha knows this place to be difficult of access. Practice the utmost cleanliness here. Then he spoke to Bhima of the vast prowess. Bhimasena, protect Krishna carefully. Whether Arjuna is near or away, in times of danger Krishna always seeks protection from you alone. And the great-souled monarch went to the twins, Nakula and Sahadeva, and smelled their heads and rubbed their bodies, and with tears said to them, do not fear; but proceed with caution.

Then he laid out the choice. Vrikodara, there are mighty and powerful invisible spirits at this place. We shall pass it, through the merit of our austerities and our Agnihotra rites. Son of Kunti, restrain your hunger and thirst by gathering your energies, and have recourse to your strength and your cleverness. You have heard what the sage said about Mount Kailasa. Consider carefully how Krishna will pass this spot. Or, mighty Bhima of the large eyes, return from here, taking with you Sahadeva and all our charioteers, cooks, servants, chariots, horses, and the Brahmins worn out with travel, while I, with Nakula and the sage Lomasha of severe austerities, go on, living on the lightest fare and observing vows. Wait cautiously for my return at the source of the Ganga, protecting Draupadi until I come back. Bhima’s answer was the one Yudhishthira must have known was coming. Descendant of Bharata, though this blessed princess has been sorely afflicted by toil and distress, she goes on easily in the hope of seeing him of the white steeds. Your dejection at not seeing the high-souled Arjuna, who never retreats from a fight, is already very great; it is superfluous to say that if you see neither me nor Sahadeva nor Krishna, your dejection will certainly increase. Let the Brahmins go back with our servants and charioteers and cooks and whoever else you command. I will never leave you in these rugged and inaccessible mountain regions infested by Rakshasas. And this princess of high fortune, ever devoted to her lords, does not want to return without you. Sahadeva is always devoted to you; he will never retrace his steps either; I know his disposition. King, we are all eager to see Savyasachin, and so we will all go together. If we cannot cross this mountain of defiles in our chariots, then we will go on foot. Do not trouble yourself, king: I will carry Panchala’s daughter wherever she is unable to walk. I have decided this; let your mind not be distracted. I will also carry those tender-bodied heroes, the twins, their mother’s delight, over the inaccessible tracts, wherever they cannot go on. Yudhishthira said: may your strength increase, Bhima, as you speak this way and boldly undertake to carry the illustrious Panchali and these twins. Blessed be you; such courage lives in no other individual. May your strength, fame, merit, and reputation increase. Long-armed one, as you offer to carry Krishna and our brothers the twins, may exhaustion and defeat never be yours. And the charming Krishna said with a smile, I shall be able to go, descendant of Bharata; do not be anxious on my account. Lomasha said: access to the mountain Gandhamadana is obtained only by dint of asceticism. So we shall all practice austerities, son of Kunti, and then Nakula, Sahadeva, Bhimasena, you, and I shall see him of the white steeds.

So conversing, they saw with delight the wide domains of Subahu on the Himalaya, abounding in horses and elephants, densely peopled by the Kiratas and the Tanganas, crowded by hundreds of Pulindas, frequented by the gods and full of wonders. King Subahu, lord of the Pulindas, received them cheerfully at the frontier of his dominions with proper respect. Honored like that, and having rested comfortably, they set out for the Himalaya when the sun shone bright in the sky. And having entrusted to the lord of the Pulindas all their servants, Indrasena and the others, and the cooks and the stewards, and Draupadi’s equipment, and everything else, those mighty chariot-warriors, the sons of the Kurus of great prowess, left that country and went on cautiously with Krishna, all of them cheerful in the expectation of seeing Arjuna.

Then Yudhishthira spoke, and it was the longest thing he had said on the whole road, a roll call of one absent brother. Bhimasena, Panchali, twins, hear my words. The acts done in a former birth do not perish without producing their effects. Look: even we have become rangers of the wilderness. Only to see Dhananjaya, exhausted and distressed as we are, we have to carry one another and pass through impassable places. It burns me as fire burns a heap of cotton. Hero, I do not see Dhananjaya at my side. I live in the wood with my younger brothers, anxious to see him. This thought, and the memory of the grave insult offered to Yajnaseni, consume me. Vrikodara, I do not see the invincible Partha of the strong bow and the incomparable energy, the immediate elder of Nakula, and for this I am miserable. To see that hero, Dhananjaya, firm in his promise, for these five years I have been wandering among tirthas and beautiful forests and lakes, and I do not meet him, and for this I am miserable. I do not see the long-armed Gudakesha of the dark blue hue and the leonine gait, and for this I am miserable. I do not see that foremost of Kurus, accomplished in arms, skillful in fight, matchless among bowmen, and for this I am miserable. Distressed, I do not see that son of Pritha, Dhananjaya, born under the star Phalguni, ranging among his enemies like Yama at the end of the world, possessed of the prowess of an elephant with the juice of rut trickling down, leonine-shouldered, no way inferior to Shakra himself in prowess and energy, elder to the twins, of the white steeds, unrivaled in heroism, invincible, wielding a strong bow; and for this, Vrikodara, I am miserable. He is always of a forgiving temper, even when insulted by the meanest individual; he confers benefit and protection on the righteous; but to the tortuous man who tries by craft to do him mischief, Dhananjaya is like virulent poison, even were that man Shakra himself. The mighty Bibhatsu of the immeasurable soul shows mercy and extends protection even to an enemy who has fallen. He is the refuge of us all, and he crushes his enemies in fight. He can gather any treasure whatever, and he ministers to our happiness. It was through his prowess that I once owned measureless jewels of every kind, which Suyodhana has now usurped. It was by his might, hero, that I once possessed that palatial assembly hall embellished with every jewel and celebrated through the three worlds. In prowess Phalguna is like Vasudeva, and in fight he is invincible and unrivaled, like Kartavirya. Alas, I do not see him, Bhima. In might that conqueror of foes follows in the wake of the invincible and most powerful Sankarshana and Vasudeva. In strength of arm and in spirit he is like Purandara himself; in swiftness he is the wind, in grace the moon, and in wrath the eternal Death himself. Mighty-armed one, to see that warlike tiger among men we shall go to the mountain Gandhamadana, where the hermitage of Nara and Narayana stands by the celebrated jujube tree, in the country of the Yakshas. We shall see that best of mountains. And practicing severe austerities, on foot alone, we shall go to Kubera’s beautiful lake guarded by Rakshasas. That place cannot be reached by vehicles, Vrikodara, nor can cruel or avaricious or irascible people reach it. To see Arjuna we shall go there, in company with Brahmins of strict vows, girding on our swords and holding our bows. Only the impure meet flies, gadflies, mosquitoes, tigers, lions, and reptiles; the pure never come across them. So, regulating our fare and restraining our senses, we shall go to Gandhamadana, wanting to see Dhananjaya.

A key to reading this (names and numbers): Arjuna’s names come in one breath here: Dhananjaya, winner of wealth; Partha, son of Pritha, which is Kunti’s other name; Gudakesha, conqueror of sleep; Phalguna, born under the Phalguni star; Savyasachin, who draws the bow with either hand; Bibhatsu, who does nothing loathsome; the rider of the white steeds. Kailasa “six yojanas high” is about fifty miles, a feeling of height rather than a survey. The Kiratas, Tanganas, and Pulindas are the hill peoples of the Himalayan foothills, Subahu their king; here the Pandavas leave their baggage and their servants. Yudhishthira’s “five years” are the years of exile already gone.

The gist: The plains fall away, and for the first time Lomasha is afraid: ahead is the country of Yakshas and Rakshasas. Yudhishthira wants to send Draupadi and the twins back with Bhima; Bhima answers that wherever they cannot walk, he will carry them. Servants and chariots stay with Subahu, and before the climb on foot Yudhishthira calls out, name by name, the brother they have been walking toward for five years.

A bow to the Alakananda, a mountain of a demon’s bones, and the Boar with a single tusk

Sons of Pandu, Lomasha said, you have seen many a mountain and river and town and forest and beautiful tirtha, and touched the sacred waters with your hands. Now this way leads to the celestial mountain Mandara; be attentive and composed. You are going to the residence of the celestials and of the divine sages of meritorious deeds. Here, king, flows the mighty and beautiful river of holy water, adored by hosts of celestials and sages, that traces its source to the site of the jujube tree. It is frequented and worshiped by the high-souled Vaihayasas, Valakhilyas, and Gandharvas of mighty soul. Accustomed to singing the Sama hymns, the sages Marichi, Pulaha, Bhrigu, and Angiras chanted them at this spot. Here the lord of celestials performs his daily prayers with the Maruts, and the Sadhyas and the Ashvins attend him. The sun, the moon, and all the luminaries with the planets resort to this river by turns, by day and by night. Highly fortunate monarch, that protector of the world, Mahadeva who bears the bull for his mark, received on his head the fall of this river’s waters, at the source of the Ganga. Children, approach this goddess of the six attributes and bow before her with concentrated minds. The son of Pandu heard the high-souled Lomasha and worshiped, with reverence, the river that flows through the sky, and having adored her the pious sons of Pandu went on with the sages.

Then those best of men saw at a distance some white object of vast proportions, like Meru, stretching on all sides, and Lomasha, knowing they were about to ask, spoke first. Hear, sons of Pandu. What you see before you, vast as a mountain and beautiful as the Kailasa cliff, is a collection of the bones of the mighty Daitya Naraka. Lying on a mountain, it looks like one. That Daitya was slain by the supreme soul, the eternal god Vishnu, for the good of the lord of celestials. Aiming at Indra’s place by the force of austerity and Vedic lore, that mighty-minded demon had practiced austere penances for ten thousand years, and by his asceticism and the strength of his arms he had grown invincible and harassed Indra without cease. Knowing his strength and his austerities and his observance of vows, Indra was agitated and overwhelmed with fear, and in his mind he thought of the eternal deity Vishnu. And the graceful lord of the universe, who is present everywhere, appeared and stood before him manifest. The sages and celestials began to propitiate Vishnu with prayers; in his presence even Agni of the six attributes and the blazing beauty was overpowered by his effulgence and stripped of radiance; and seeing the god Vishnu before him, the chief of the celestials who wields the thunderbolt bowed his head and told Vishnu at once what he was afraid of. Vishnu said: I know, Shakra, that your fear comes from Naraka, the lord of the Daityas. By the merit of his ascetic success he aims at Indra’s position. So, to please you, I will sever his soul from his body, although he has achieved success in asceticism. Wait a moment, lord of the celestials. Then the exceedingly powerful Vishnu deprived Naraka of his senses by striking him with his hand, and he fell to the earth like the monarch of mountains struck by thunder. He was slain by a miracle, and his bones lie gathered here. And here is manifest another deed of Vishnu’s. Once, when the whole earth had been lost and had sunk into the nether regions, she was lifted up by him in the shape of a boar with a single tusk.

Worshipful one, Yudhishthira said, relate in particular how Vishnu, lord of the celestials, raised the earth that had sunk a hundred yojanas. How was that support of all created things, the goddess Earth of high fortune who dispenses blessings and brings forth all kinds of corn, made stable again? Through whose power had she sunk, and under what circumstances was this greatest of the Supreme Being’s exploits shown? I wish to hear it all in detail; certainly it is known to you. Listen, Yudhishthira, said Lomasha. Child, in days of yore there was a terrible time in the Krita age when the eternal and primeval deity took up the duties of Yama. And while the god of gods performed Yama’s functions, not a creature died, while births went on as usual. Birds and beasts multiplied, and cattle and sheep and deer and every kind of carnivorous animal, and the human race increased by thousands like a current of water, tiger among men. And when the increase had become that frightful, the Earth, oppressed with the excess of burden, sank down a hundred yojanas. Suffering pain in all her limbs, deprived of her senses by the pressure, the earth in distress sought the protection of Narayana, the foremost of the gods. It is by your favor, possessor of the six attributes, she said, that I have been able to remain so long in my position. But I have been overcome with burden and now I cannot hold myself up any longer. It behooves you, adorable one, to relieve this load of mine. I have sought your protection, lord; extend your favor to me. And the eternal lord answered her graciously, in words spoken in distinct letters: you need not fear, afflicted Earth, bearer of all treasures. I will act so that you are made light.

Having dismissed the Earth, who wears the mountains for her earrings, he suddenly became a boar with one tusk and exceeding effulgence. Causing terror with his glowing red eyes and giving off fumes from his blazing luster, he began to swell in size in that region. Then, holding the earth on his single radiant tusk, that being who pervades the Vedas raised her a hundred yojanas. As she was being raised there was a mighty agitation, and all the celestials with the sages of ascetic wealth were shaken. Heaven and sky and earth were filled with cries of oh and alas, and neither the celestials nor men could rest. Countless celestials went with the sages to Brahma, who sat as if burning in his own luster, and said to him with folded hands: lord of the celestials, all created beings are agitated and the mobile and immobile creatures are restless. Even the oceans are agitated, and this whole earth has gone down a hundred yojanas. What is the matter, and by whose influence is the whole universe in ferment? Explain it to us without delay, for we are all bewildered. Brahma said: immortals, do not fear the Asuras in any matter or place. Hear the reason for this commotion. It has been produced by the influence of the illustrious Being who is omnipresent, eternal, and the never-perishing Soul. That supreme soul, Vishnu, has lifted up the Earth, who had sunk a hundred yojanas. This commotion comes from the earth being raised. Know this and dispel your doubts. The celestials said: where is that Being who with pleasure lifts up the Earth? Tell us the place, and we will go there. Brahma said: go, and may good come to you. You will find him resting in the Nandana gardens. There the glorious and worshipful Suparna is visible. Having raised the Earth, the Supreme Being from whom the world became manifest flames even now in the shape of a boar, like the all-consuming fire at the end of the world, and on his breast the gem Shrivatsa is plainly to be seen. Go and behold that Being who knows no decay. And the celestials, with the grandsire at their head, came to that infinite Soul, and having listened to his praise, took leave of him and went back where they had come from. And Janamejaya, having heard this story, all the Pandavas set out without delay and with alacrity along the way Lomasha pointed.

A key to reading this (names): The Naraka whose bones lie here is a different demon from the Narakasura whom Krishna will later kill and whose story is told in the Harivamsha; Vyasa here means an older Daitya, killed by a single blow of Vishnu’s hand. The Boar story too comes in its own form here: the cause is neither a flood nor the demon Hiranyaksha but the sheer weight of population, because Vishnu himself had taken over Yama’s office and death had stopped. Shrivatsa is the mark on Vishnu’s chest, and Suparna is Garuda, his mount.

The gist: After bowing to the Alakananda the Pandavas see a white mountain in the distance that turns out to be bones. Lomasha strings two stories on it: a demon Vishnu felled with one hand, and an earth that sank because nobody was dying. The heave of a single tusk shakes heaven, and Brahma sends the gods to the Nandana garden to see the Boar.

The storm on Gandhamadana, Draupadi’s fall, and the coming of Ghatotkacha

Then, king, those foremost of bowmen of immeasurable prowess went on toward Gandhamadana with Panchali and the best of the Brahmins, their bows strung to full stretch, quivers and arrows at their backs, finger guards of iguana skin on their hands, swords at their sides. On the way they saw lakes and rivers and mountains and forests, trees of wide-spreading shade on the summits, places bearing flowers and fruit in every season and frequented by celestials and sages. Restraining their senses within themselves and living on fruit and roots, the heroes passed through rugged regions, craggy and difficult, watching beasts of many kinds, and so they entered the mountain where sages, Siddhas, and celestials live and Kinnaras and Apsaras come and go. And as they were entering Gandhamadana a violent wind rose, with a heavy shower behind it. Vast clouds of dust carrying loads of dry leaves rose and covered earth, air, and sky all at once. With the heavens full of dust nothing could be seen, and they could not speak to one another. Blinded by darkness and shoved by a wind that carried bits of rock, they could not see each other. Mighty sounds came from the trees, and from trees breaking under the wind’s force and crashing to the ground, and distracted by the gusts they thought: is the sky falling, or are the earth and the mountains being torn apart? Frightened of the wind, they felt about with their hands and took shelter under wayside trees and in anthills and caverns. Bhima stood under a tree, holding his bow and supporting Krishna. Yudhishthira the just crept with Dhaumya into the deep wood. Sahadeva took shelter in a rock, carrying the sacred fire. Nakula, with Lomasha and the other Brahmins of great asceticism, stood frightened, each under a tree. Then the wind abated and the dust subsided, and rain came down in torrents. There was a rattling like thunder hurled, and quick lightning played on the clouds, and helped along by the wind the rain poured without pause and filled every side. Rivers ran everywhere, covered with foam, turbid with mud, bearing volumes of water spread over frothy rafts, rushing down with a tremendous roar and uprooting trees. When the sound had ceased and the air cleared, they came out of their shelters one by one, cautiously, and found each other, and started again for the mountain.

They had gone only two miles when Draupadi, who had never traveled on foot, sank down. Weary and afflicted, the poor daughter of Panchala fainted, from the hailstorm and from her own delicacy. Trembling, the black-eyed one braced herself on her thighs with her plump arms, and resting on those thighs like an elephant’s trunk, pressed together, she suddenly dropped to the ground, shaking like a plantain tree. Nakula saw the beautiful one falling like a twisted creeper and ran forward and held her. King, he said, this black-eyed daughter of Panchala has fallen to the ground from weariness. Tend her, descendant of Bharata. Undeserving of misery, this lady of slow pace has been subjected to great hardships, and she is worn out with the fatigues of the road. Mighty king, comfort her. The king and Bhima and Sahadeva heard Nakula and were stricken and ran to her, and finding her weak and her face pale, the pious son of Kunti took her on his lap and lamented. Accustomed to ease, he said, deserving to sleep in well-guarded rooms on beds spread with fine sheets, how does this beautiful one lie prostrate on the ground? Alas, on my account alone the delicate feet and the lotus face of this one, who deserves everything excellent, have turned dark blue. What have I done! Fool that I am, addicted to dice, I have been wandering the forest of wild beasts with Krishna in my company. This large-eyed one was given by her father, the king of the Drupadas, in the hope that the blessed girl would be happy with the sons of Pandu for her lords. It is on account of my wretched self that, without gaining anything she hoped for, she sleeps prostrate on the ground, tired with hardship and sorrow and travel.

While the king lamented like that, Dhaumya and the other principal Brahmins came, consoled him, honored him with blessings, and recited mantras capable of dispelling Rakshasas and performed the rites that go with them. Between the mantras of the great ascetics, the soothing palms of the Pandavas touching her again and again, and cool breezes charged with drops of water, Panchali felt ease and gradually regained her senses. Finding her restored, the sons of Pritha laid her on a deerskin and let her rest, and the twins took her feet, red-soled and marked with auspicious signs, and pressed them gently with hands scarred by the bowstring. Yudhishthira comforted her and then turned to Bhima. Bhima, there remain many mountains before us, rugged and inaccessible with snow. Long-armed one, how will Krishna pass over them? Bhima said: king, I myself will carry you, together with this princess and these bulls among men, the twins; so, king of kings, do not surrender your mind to despair. Or, at your bidding, sinless one, Hidimba’s son, the mighty Ghatotkacha, who ranges the skies and is my equal in strength, will carry us all. With Yudhishthira’s permission Bhima thought of his Rakshasa son, and the moment his father thought of him the pious Ghatotkacha appeared, saluted the Pandavas and the Brahmins, and stood with joined hands. They caressed him, that mighty-armed one, and he said to his father Bhimasena of the dreadful prowess: having been thought of by you I have come here with speed, to serve you. Long-armed one, command me. Whatever you bid, I shall certainly be able to perform. And Bhimasena hugged the Rakshasa to his chest.

A key to reading this (a name and a distance): Ghatotkacha is Bhima’s son by the Rakshasi Hidimba, born in the Adi Parva, who promised at parting to come whenever he was thought of; this is his first return. The original says two kroshas, a krosha being a mile and a half or so, so Draupadi managed barely three miles after the storm. “Addicted to dice” is Yudhishthira’s own phrase about himself, and the epic lets him say it.

The gist: The mountain’s first welcome is wind, dust, and hail, and the five brothers are scattered into five shelters. After the storm Draupadi falls within two miles, and Yudhishthira, with her head in his lap, names himself the cause for the first time. Bhima’s answer is a thought, and the thought’s answer is a son, standing before them with joined hands.

Across the Uttarakurus on the shoulders of Rakshasas: the jujube tree and the hermitage of Nara and Narayana

Bhima, said Yudhishthira, let this mighty and heroic Rakshasa chief, your lawful son, devoted to us, truthful and conversant with virtue, carry his mother Draupadi without delay. And you of the dreadful prowess, depending on the strength of your arms I shall reach Gandhamadana unhurt, together with Panchala’s daughter. Bhima gave the order. Invincible son of Hidimba, this mother of yours has been sorely tired. You are strong and can go wherever you like. So carry her, ranger of the skies. May prosperity attend you. Take her on your shoulders and go in our company, keeping a course not far overhead, so as not to make her uneasy. Ghatotkacha said: even single-handed I could carry Yudhishthira the just, and Dhaumya, and Krishna, and the twins; what wonder that I carry them today, when I have others to help me? Hundreds of other heroic Rakshasas who move through the sky and take any shape at will will carry all of you together with the Brahmins.

So Ghatotkacha carried Krishna in the midst of the Pandavas, and the other Rakshasas carried the Pandavas, and Lomasha of the incomparable effulgence moved along the path of the Siddhas by his own native energy, like a second sun. At the Rakshasa lord’s command those Rakshasas of terrific prowess carried the other Brahmins too, looking down on many a lovely wood, and made for the gigantic jujube tree. Carried by beings of great speed, the heroes crossed long stretches of country as if they were short ones. On the way they saw tracts crowded with barbarian peoples and holding mines of many gems, hillocks full of minerals, thronged with Vidyadharas, alive on every side with monkeys and Kinnaras and Kimpurushas and Gandharvas, full of peacocks and yaks and apes and ruru deer and bears and gayals and buffaloes, crossed by a net of rivulets, home to every bird and beast, beautiful with elephants, thick with trees and delighted birds. Having passed many countries, and the Uttarakurus as well, they saw that foremost of mountains, Kailasa, full of wonders. And beside it they saw the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, with celestial trees bearing flowers and fruit in every season, and the beautiful round-trunked jujube itself: fresh, deep-shaded, of excellent beauty, its foliage thick and soft and sleek, healthy, with gigantic boughs, wide-spreading, of incomparable luster, hung with full-grown, tasteful, holy fruits dripping honey. That celestial tree was frequented by hosts of mighty sages and always inhabited by birds mad with animal spirits. It grew at a spot without mosquitoes or gadflies, abounding in fruit and roots and water, covered with green grass, inhabited by celestials and Gandharvas, smooth of surface, naturally healthful, beautiful and cool and soft to the touch. There, with those bulls among Brahmins, the high-souled ones gently climbed down from the Rakshasas’ shoulders.

What they had reached was the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, and the epic describes it the way a traveler describes the end of a long road, in a single breath that will not stop. Devoid of gloom; sacred; untouched by the sun’s rays; free of the rubs of hunger and thirst, heat and cold; removing all sorrow; crowded with hosts of mighty sages; adorned with the grace that proceeds from the Vedas, Saman, Rich, and Yajus; inaccessible, king, to men who have renounced religion; beautified with offerings and homas; sacred; well swept and daubed; shining all around with offerings of celestial blossoms; spread with altars of sacrificial fire and sacred ladles and pots; graced with large water jars and baskets; the refuge of all beings; echoing with the chanting of the Vedas; heavenly; worthy of being lived in; removing fatigue; attended with splendor; of incomprehensible merit; majestic with divine qualities. It was inhabited by hosts of great sages living on fruit and roots, their senses under perfect control, clad in black deerskins, effulgent as the sun and Agni, their souls magnified by asceticism and bent on emancipation, living the forest life, identified with the Supreme Soul, of high fortune, reciting the Vedic hymns. Purified and restrained, the son of Dharma, the intelligent Yudhishthira of exceeding energy, approached those sages with his brothers, and all the great sages endowed with supernatural knowledge, knowing who had come, received him joyfully. Those sages engaged in the recitation of the Vedas, like fire itself, blessed him and gave him fitting welcome, clean water and flowers and roots, and Yudhishthira the just received with regard what they gladly offered. Then, sinless one, Pandu’s son with Krishna and his brothers and thousands of Brahmins versed in the Vedas and the Vedangas entered that holy hermitage, like the abode of Shukra, pleasing the mind with heavenly odors, resembling heaven itself, attended with beauty. There the pious one saw the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, beautified by the Bhagirathi and worshiped by the gods and the celestial sages, and seeing it inhabited by Brahmarshis and full of fruits dripping honey, the Pandavas were filled with delight, and having reached that place, they began to dwell there with the Brahmins. They saw the holy lake Vinda and the mountain Mainaka of the golden summits and the many kinds of birds, and lived happily and with joy. The son of Pandu took pleasure with Krishna in ranging the excellent and captivating woods, shining with the flowers of every season, beautiful on every side with trees in full blossom, bending under the weight of fruit, attended by many male kokilas, glossy of foliage, thick, with cool shade, lovely to look at. They took delight in lakes of limpid water shining all round with lotuses and lilies, and there, lord, the balmy breeze bearing pure fragrance blew and gladdened all the Pandavas and Krishna. Hard by the gigantic jujube the mighty son of Kunti saw the Bhagirathi, easy of descent, cool, furnished with fresh lotuses, with stairs of rubies and corals, graced with trees, scattered with celestial flowers, gladdening to the mind. At that spot, frequented by celestials and sages and extremely inaccessible, they purified themselves and offered oblations to the fathers and the gods and the rishis in the sacred waters of the Bhagirathi. So those bulls among men, the heroic perpetuators of the Kuru race, began to reside there with the Brahmins, offering oblations and practicing meditation, and those tigers among men of godlike appearance felt delight in watching the various amusements of Draupadi.

A key to reading this (a place): The jujube, badari, gives the place its name: Badarikashrama, today’s Badrinath, where the two sage-gods Nara and Narayana practice austerity. In the tradition Arjuna is the incarnation of Nara and Krishna of Narayana, so arriving here in search of Arjuna is a quiet signal inside the story. The Uttarakurus are the country beyond the Himalaya that the tradition treats as a land of bliss; the Bhagirathi at Badrinath is the Alakananda under its other name, and Mainaka is the son of Himalaya who kept his wings.

The gist: A road that would have taken years on foot becomes one flight on the shoulders of Rakshasas; Ghatotkacha carries his mother and hundreds of his kind carry the Pandavas and the Brahmins. Beyond the Uttarakurus Kailasa comes into view, and beside it the jujube tree under which Nara and Narayana keep their hermitage. Here there is no hunger, no thirst, no heat or cold; the Pandavas stop, and Draupadi laughs.

A thousand-petaled lotus on the northeast wind, and Bhima’s climb up Gandhamadana

There, observing cleanliness, those tigers among men lived for six nights in expectation of seeing Dhananjaya. And it came to pass that all at once a wind blew from the northeast and brought with it a celestial lotus of a thousand petals, effulgent as the sun. Panchali saw that pure and charming flower of unearthly fragrance, carried by the wind and set down on the ground, and having got it, that blessed one was exceedingly delighted, and she said to Bhimasena: look, Bhima, at this most beautiful unearthly flower, which holds within it the very source of fragrance. It gladdens my heart, represser of foes. This one shall be presented to Yudhishthira the just. So procure others for my satisfaction, that I may carry them to our hermitage in the Kamyaka. If I have found grace with you, son of Pritha, procure others of this species, in large numbers. I wish to carry them to our hermitage. With that the blameless lady of the beautiful glances took the flower to Yudhishthira the just. And knowing the desire of his beloved queen, Bhima of great strength set out to gratify her. Intent on the flowers he went at a rapid pace, facing the wind, in the direction the flower had come from, with the bow inlaid with gold on his back and arrows like venomous snakes, and he went as a lion goes in anger or an elephant in rut. All beings watched him pass with that mighty bow and those arrows. Neither exhaustion nor languor, neither fear nor confusion ever took hold of the son of Pritha and the offspring of the wind. Wanting to please Draupadi, free of fear or confusion, he climbed the peak by the strength of his arms, and that slayer of foes began to range that beautiful peak covered with trees and creepers, black-rocked at its base, frequented by Kinnaras, variegated with minerals and plants and beasts and birds of various hues, looking like an upraised arm of the Earth adorned with a full set of ornaments. He went on with his gaze fixed on the slopes of Gandhamadana, beautiful with the flowers of every season, turning many thoughts in his mind, his ears and eyes and mind riveted to the places that rang with the notes of male kokilas and the hum of black bees. Like an elephant in rut ranging mad through a forest he smelled the rare odor of the flowers of every season. The fresh breeze of Gandhamadana, bearing the perfumes of many blossoms and cooling as a father’s touch, fanned him, and when his fatigue lifted, the down on his body stood on end. In that state the represser of foes surveyed the whole mountain for the flowers, the mountain of Yakshas and Gandharvas and celestials and Brahmarshis. Brushed by the leaves of the saptachchhada tree and smeared with fresh red and black and white minerals, he looked as if decorated with lines of holy unguent drawn by fingers. With clouds stretching at its sides the mountain seemed to dance with outspread wings; with springs trickling down it seemed decked with necklaces of pearls. It had romantic caverns and groves and cascades and caves, and excellent peacocks dancing to the jingle of the Apsaras’ bangles; its rocky surface was worn by the tusks of the elephants of the quarters, and with the water of rivers falling down it, the mountain looked as if its clothes were coming loose. The graceful son of the wind god went on playfully and cheerfully, pushing aside countless intertwined creepers by main force. Stags with grass in their mouths gazed at him in curiosity; never having known fear, they were not alarmed and did not run. And so, engaged in fulfilling the desire of his love, the youthful son of Pandu, stalwart and golden of hue, with a body strong as a lion’s, treading like a mad elephant, with the force of a mad elephant and coppery eyes like a mad elephant’s, capable of checking a mad elephant, began to range the romantic sides of Gandhamadana with his beautiful eyes uplifted, displaying a new kind of beauty. The wives of Yakshas and Gandharvas, sitting invisible beside their husbands, stared at him and turned their faces with many motions. Intent on gratifying Draupadi exiled to the woods, ranging that beautiful mountain, he remembered the many and various woes Duryodhana had caused, and he thought: now that Arjuna is in heaven and I too have come away for the flowers, what will our brother Yudhishthira do? Surely, from affection and from doubting their prowess, that foremost of men will not let Nakula and Sahadeva come in search of us. And how am I to get the flowers quickly? Thinking this, that tiger among men went on with all his force like the king of birds, his mind and sight fixed on the delightful side of the mountain.

Having the words of Draupadi for provisions on the road, the mighty son of Pandu, Vrikodara Bhima, with the strength and the swiftness of the wind, went on speedily with his mind and sight on the blooming slopes, making the earth tremble under his tread like a hurricane at the equinox, frightening herds of elephants, grinding lions and tigers and deer, uprooting and smashing great trees and tearing away plants and creepers by force, like an elephant climbing higher and higher toward the summit, and roaring fiercely, like a cloud attended by thunder. Woken by that roaring, tigers came out of their dens while other rangers of the forest hid; the coursers of the sky sprang up in fright; herds of deer ran; birds left the trees; lions forsook their dens; mighty lions were roused from sleep; buffaloes stared; elephants in fright left the wood and ran to wider forests with their mates. Boars and deer and lions and buffaloes and tigers and jackals and gayals cried out in herds. Ruddy geese and gallinules and ducks and karandavas and plavas and parrots and male kokilas and herons flew in confusion in every direction, while some proud elephants urged by their mates, and some lions and elephants in rage, flew at Bhimasena. Distracted at heart by fear, those fierce animals discharged urine and dung and set up loud yells with gaping mouths. Then the illustrious and graceful son of the wind god, the mighty Pandava, depending on the strength of his arms, began to kill one elephant with another elephant and one lion with another lion, while he dispatched the rest with slaps. Struck by Bhima, the lions and tigers and leopards gave loud cries in fright and discharged urine and dung. Having destroyed these, the handsome son of Pandu entered the forest, making every side resound with his shouts, and there the long-armed one saw on the slopes of Gandhamadana a beautiful plantain tree spreading over many a yojana. Like a mad lion that one of great strength went at it, breaking down plants of every kind, and uprooting innumerable plantain trunks as tall as many palm trees placed one above another, he flung them on every side with force, shouting, haughty as a male lion. Then he encountered countless beasts of gigantic size, and stags and monkeys and lions and buffaloes and aquatic animals, and between their cries and Bhima’s shouts even the beasts and birds in distant parts of the wood grew frightened, and hearing them, myriads of waterfowl suddenly rose on wet wings. Seeing those birds, the bull among the Bharatas went in that direction and saw a vast and romantic lake, fathomless, fanned, as it were, by the golden plantain trees on its shore shaken by soft breezes. He went down at once into that lake full of lilies and lotuses and sported lustily like a mighty maddened elephant, and having sported there a long while, he of the immeasurable effulgence climbed out to push on at speed into the forest of trees. Then the Pandava blew his loud-sounding conch with all his might, and striking his arms with his hands, the mighty Bhima made all the points of heaven resound. Filled with the sound of the conch, with Bhimasena’s shouts, and with the reports of his arms being struck, the caves of the mountain seemed to roar. Hearing those arm strokes like the crashing of thunder, the lions sleeping in the caves howled, and terrified by the lions, the elephants sent up tremendous roars that filled the mountain.

A key to reading this (one picture): This is the Mahabharata’s great mountain painting, and it is kept whole: a mountain that dances, loosens its garments, wears necklaces of springs, is painted with lines of unguent, and a moment later shakes under one man’s tread. The lotus is the saugandhika, named for its scent; it came from the northeast, and in that direction lies Kubera’s lake. Bhima’s worry, that Yudhishthira will not send the twins after him, is a brother’s worry, and it makes him walk faster.

The gist: Six nights pass, and the wind delivers a thousand-petaled lotus. Draupadi says, bring more, and Bhima sets off into the wind. On the mountain he kills lion with lion, tears up a plantain forest, plays in a lake, blows his conch, and slaps his arms. Someone else is listening to that noise, lying in the plantain grove.

The monkey in the plantain grove: Bhima meets Hanuman, and the tail that would not move

Hanuman heard the sounds, and he knew whose they were. Bhimasena was his brother, both of them sons of the wind, and for Bhima’s own good the chief of monkeys blocked the path that leads to heaven. Thinking that Bhima must not go that way, he lay down across the narrow path among the plantain trees, for Bhima’s safety; so that Bhima might not walk into the plantain wood and come by a curse or a defeat, the monkey of huge body lay down among the golden trees, overcome with drowsiness. He yawned, lashing his long tail, raised like the pole consecrated to Indra and sounding like thunder. All around, the mountains echoed it from the mouths of their caves like a cow lowing; shaken by the reports of that tail, the mountain, its summits tottering, began to crumble on every side; and overcoming the roaring of the mad elephants, the sound of his tail spread over the whole varied slope.

The hair on Bhima’s body stood on end at that sound, and he went searching for it through the plantain wood, and there, on a raised rock, he saw the chief of monkeys. He was hard to look at, like a flash of lightning; coppery like lightning; with the voice of lightning; quick as lightning; his short fleshy neck resting on his shoulders, his waist slender from the fullness of those shoulders. His tail, covered with long hair and a little bent at the end, was raised like a banner. Bhima saw the head with its small lips and coppery face and tongue, the red ears, the brisk eyes, the bare white incisors sharpened at the edge; a head like the shining moon, adorned with white teeth, with a mane scattered over it like a heap of ashoka flowers. Among the golden plantains that one of exceeding effulgence lay like a blazing fire with his radiant body, casting glances from eyes reddened with intoxication. The intelligent Bhima saw that mighty chief of monkeys of the huge body lying like the Himalaya across the path of heaven, and seeing him alone in that mighty forest, the undaunted, athletic, long-armed Bhima strode up to him and shouted like thunder, so that every beast and bird was alarmed. Hanuman opened his eyes partway and looked at him with disregard, with those intoxicated eyes, and then, smiling, he spoke. Ill as I am, I was sleeping sweetly. Why have you woken me? You have reason; you should show kindness to all creatures. We of the animal species are ignorant of virtue, but men, endowed with reason, show kindness to creatures. Why then do reasonable persons like you commit themselves to acts that contaminate body, speech, and heart alike and destroy virtue? You do not know what virtue is, nor have you taken counsel of the wise, and so, from ignorance and childishness, you destroy the lower animals. Say who you are, and why you have come to this forest devoid of humanity and human beings. And tell me, foremost of men, where you mean to go today. Further it is impossible to proceed. Those hills are inaccessible. Hero, save by the passage won by asceticism there is no passage to that place. This is the path of the celestials, forever impassable to mortals. Out of kindness I dissuade you. Hear me. You cannot go on from here. So desist, lord. Chief of men, today you are welcome to this place in every way. If you think it proper to accept my words, rest here, best of men, eating fruit and roots as sweet as ambrosia, and do not have yourself destroyed for nothing.

Bhima heard the intelligent monkey out and answered him as a Kshatriya answers an obstacle. Who are you, and why have you taken the shape of a monkey? It is a Kshatriya who asks you, of the order next to the Brahmins. He belongs to the Kuru race and the lunar line, was borne by Kunti in her womb, is one of the sons of Pandu and the offspring of the wind god, and is known by the name of Bhimasena. Hanuman smiled, and the son of the wind god said to the son of the wind god: I am a monkey. I will not give you the passage you want. Better desist and go back. Do not meet with destruction. Bhima said: about destruction or anything else I am not asking you, monkey. Give me passage. Rise. Do not come by grief at my hands. I have no strength to rise, Hanuman said; I am suffering from illness. If you must go, go by leaping over me. And Bhima, who had shouted like thunder a moment earlier, stopped, because there was a thing he would not do. The Supreme Soul, void of the properties, pervades a body all over. Him, knowable only by knowledge, I cannot disregard, and so I will not leap over you. Had I not known Him from whom all creatures become manifest, I would have leaped over you and over the mountain too, as Hanuman bounded over the ocean. Hanuman said: who is that Hanuman who bounded over the ocean? I ask you, best of men; tell me if you can. Bhima said: he is my brother, excellent in every perfection, endowed with intelligence and strength of mind and body. He is the illustrious chief of monkeys, renowned in the Ramayana. For Rama’s queen that king of the monkeys crossed the ocean of a hundred yojanas in a single leap. That mighty one is my brother. I am equal to him in energy, strength, and prowess, and in fight as well, and I am able to punish you. So rise. Either give me passage or witness my prowess today. If you do not listen, I will send you to the abode of Yama.

Hanuman saw that the man was drunk on strength and proud of his arms, and slighting him in his heart, he said: relent, sinless one. Because of my age I have no strength to get up. Out of pity for me, go on, moving my tail aside. Bhima took him for a creature without energy or prowess and thought: I will take fast hold of the tail and send this monkey to the region of Yama. With a smile, slightingly, he took the tail in his left hand. It did not move. He took it in both arms, that tail like the pole raised in Indra’s honor, and pulled. It did not rise. His brows drew together, his eyes rolled, his face knotted into wrinkles, his body ran with sweat, and still he could not lift it. And when, after all his striving, the illustrious Bhima had failed to raise the tail, he went to the monkey’s side and stood there with a bashful face. Bowing, with joined hands, Kunti’s son said: relent, foremost of monkeys, and forgive me my harsh words. Are you a Siddha, or a god, or a Gandharva, or a Guhyaka? I ask out of curiosity. Tell me who you are, who have taken the form of a monkey, if it is not a secret, long-armed one, and if I may hear it. I ask as a disciple, and I seek your refuge. Hanuman said: represser of foes, to the full extent of your curiosity I will tell you everything. Listen, son of Pandu. Lotus-eyed one, I was begotten by the wind god, that life of the world, upon the wife of Kesari. I am a monkey, Hanuman by name. All the mighty monkey kings and monkey chiefs used to wait upon that son of the sun, Sugriva, and that son of Shakra, Vali. Between me and Sugriva there was a friendship like that between the wind and fire. For some cause Sugriva, driven out by his brother, lived with me a long time on Rishyamukha. And it came to pass that the mighty son of Dasharatha, the heroic Rama, who is Vishnu’s self in the shape of a man, was born into this world, and with his queen and his brother, taking his bow, that foremost of bowmen went to live in the Dandaka forest for his father’s welfare. From Janasthana that mighty Rakshasa king, the wicked Ravana, carried his queen away by stratagem and force, deceiving that foremost of men through the Rakshasa Maricha, who took the form of a deer marked with gemlike golden spots.

A key to reading this (one moment): Bhima refuses to step over Hanuman not because he has recognized him but because he will not step over any creature in which the Supreme Soul dwells, and in the same breath he boasts of his unknown brother’s leap. Hanuman laughs and weighs the boast with a tail. Both are sons of the wind, which is why the epic sets “the son of the wind god” against “the son of the wind god.” The Rama story here is Valmiki’s, as Hanuman himself tells it, and it should be kept distinct from the later devotional tellings.

The gist: The answer to Bhima’s conch is the slap of a tail. He tells the monkey lying across the path to get up; the monkey says, step over me; Bhima will not, and brags of his brother Hanuman’s leap without knowing whom he is talking to. One hand, then two, sweat, and the tail where it was. A shamed Bhima joins his palms, and Hanuman begins to tell his own story.

Hanuman in his own words: the leap of a hundred yojanas, the burning of Lanka, and “as long as the story of Rama endures”

After his wife was carried away, Hanuman said, that descendant of Raghu, searching with his brother for his queen, met on the summit of that mountain with Sugriva, chief of the monkeys. A friendship was contracted between him and the high-souled Raghava, and Rama, having slain Vali, installed Sugriva in the kingdom. Having got the kingdom, Sugriva sent out monkeys by hundreds and thousands in search of Sita, and I too, best of men, set out toward the south with innumerable monkeys in quest of her. Then a mighty vulture named Sampati told us that Sita was in the house of Ravana. And to secure success for Rama, I all at once bounded over the main, a hundred yojanas of it. Chief of the Bharatas, having crossed by my own prowess that ocean, the home of sharks and crocodiles, I saw in Ravana’s residence the daughter of king Janaka, Sita, like the daughter of a celestial. I spoke with that lady, Vaidehi, Rama’s beloved, and burned the whole of Lanka with its towers and ramparts and gates, and proclaimed my name there, and returned. Hearing everything from me, the lotus-eyed Rama fixed his course of action at once, built a bridge across the deep for the passage of his army, and crossed it followed by myriads of monkeys. Then by prowess Rama killed those Rakshasas in battle, and Ravana, the oppressor of the worlds, together with his Rakshasa followers. Having killed the king of the Rakshasas with his brother and sons and kindred, he installed in the kingdom of Lanka the Rakshasa chief Vibhishana, pious and reverent and kind to devoted dependents. Then Rama recovered his wife as one recovers the lost Vedic revelation. And with his devoted wife, Raghu’s son returned to his own city, Ayodhya, inaccessible to enemies, and that lord of men dwelt there, and that foremost of kings was established in the kingdom. Then I asked a boon of the lotus-eyed Rama: slayer of foes, may I live as long as the history of your deeds remains on the earth. And he said, so be it. Represser of foes, Bhima, by Sita’s grace also, every excellent object of enjoyment is supplied to me here, whoever abides at this place. Rama reigned for eleven thousand years and then ascended to his own abode. Ever since, here, Apsaras and Gandharvas delight me, singing forever the deeds of that hero, sinless one. Son of the Kurus, this path is impassable to mortals. For this, and so that no one might defeat or curse you, I have obstructed your passage along this road the immortals walk. This is one of the paths to heaven for the celestials; mortals cannot pass this way. But the lake you have come looking for lies in that direction.

A key to reading this (names and a number): This is the Valmiki Ramayana in miniature, in Hanuman’s own mouth, and every name is Valmiki’s: Sampati, the brother of the vulture Jatayu; Vaidehi, Sita as the princess of Videha; Vibhishana. Eleven thousand years is the traditional length of Rama’s reign, a measure of that kingdom’s perfection rather than a count of history. Hanuman’s boon, to live as long as the story of Rama lives, is the reason he is here at the end of the Dwapara age, talking to Bhima.

The gist: From Maricha’s deer to Vibhishana’s coronation, Hanuman tells his story in one breath, with his leap and the burning of Lanka set in the middle of it, and at the end the boon that made him deathless. Then he tells Bhima why he blocked the road, and which way the lake lies.

The discourse on the ages: the form that can no longer be shown, and the dwindling of virtue from Krita to Kali

Vaishampayana said: the powerful Bhimasena of the mighty arms bowed to his brother Hanuman, chief of the monkeys, affectionately and with a cheerful heart, and said in mild words: none is more fortunate than I; now I have seen my elder brother. It is a great favor shown to me, and I am well pleased with you. Now I wish you to fulfill this desire of mine. I desire to see, hero, that incomparable form of yours which you had when you bounded over the main, that home of sharks and crocodiles. Then I shall be satisfied, and believe your words. The mighty monkey smiled. That form of mine neither you nor anyone else can see. At that age the state of things was different, and it does not exist now. In the Krita age the state of things was one; in the Treta, another; in the Dwapara, another still. Diminution is going on in this age, and I do not have that form now. The ground, rivers, plants, and rocks, and Siddhas, gods, and celestial sages conform to Time, in harmony with the state of things in the different yugas. So do not desire to see my former shape, perpetuator of the Kuru race. I am conforming to the tendency of the age. Verily, Time is irresistible. Bhimasena said: tell me of the duration of the different yugas, and of the manners and customs, and of virtue and pleasure and profit, and of acts and energy and life and death in each.

Child, Hanuman said, that yuga is called Krita in which the one eternal religion was current. In that best of yugas everyone had religious perfection, and so there was no need of religious acts. Virtue knew no deterioration; people did not decrease. It is for this that the age is called Krita, the perfect. In time the yuga came to be thought inferior. And in the Krita age, child, there were neither gods nor demons nor Gandharvas nor Yakshas nor Rakshasas nor Nagas. There was no buying and selling. The Saman, the Rich, and the Yajus did not exist. There was no manual labor. The necessaries of life were obtained merely by being thought of. The only merit was in renouncing the world. In that yuga there was no disease and no decay of the senses; neither malice, nor pride, nor hypocrisy, nor discord, nor ill will, nor cunning, nor fear, nor misery, nor envy, nor covetousness. And so that prime refuge of yogis, the Supreme Brahma itself, was attainable to all. Narayana, wearing a white hue, was the soul of all creatures. In the Krita age the distinctive characteristics of Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Shudras were natural, and each ever kept to its own duties. Brahma was the sole refuge; their manners and customs were naturally adapted to attaining Brahma; the object of their knowledge was Brahma alone, and all their acts had reference to Brahma. In this way all the orders attained merit. One uniform Soul was the object of their meditation; there was one mantra, the Om, and one ordinance; and though of different characteristics, they all followed a single Veda and had one religion. According to the divisions of time they led the four modes of life without aiming at any object, and so they attained emancipation. The religion consisting in the identification of self with Brahma marks the Krita age, and in the Krita age the virtue of the four orders is throughout entire, in fourfold measure. Such is the Krita age, devoid of the three qualities.

Hear from me too the character of the Treta. In this age sacrifices are introduced and virtue decreases by a quarter. Narayana, the soul of all creatures, takes on a red color. Men practice truth and devote themselves to religion and rites, and so sacrifices and various religious observances come into being. In the Treta people begin to devise means for the attainment of an object, and they attain it through acts and gifts. They never deviate from virtue; they are devoted to asceticism and to the bestowal of gifts; the four orders adhere to their duties and perform rites. Such are the men of the Treta. In the Dwapara, religion decreases by half. Narayana wears a yellow hue. The Veda is divided into four parts, and then some men retain the four Vedas, some three, some one, and others do not know even the Richs. With the scriptures thus divided, acts multiply, and largely influenced by passion, people engage in asceticism and gifts. From their incapacity to study the whole Veda, it is divided into several parts. With intellect diminished, few are established in truth, and when people fall away from truth they become subject to diseases, and then lust and natural calamities follow, and afflicted with these, people take to penances. Some celebrate sacrifices wanting the good things of life or heaven. With the coming of the Dwapara men degenerate through impiety. Son of Kunti, in the Kali age a quarter only of virtue remains. At the beginning of this iron age Narayana wears a black hue. The Vedas and the institutes, virtue and sacrifice and religious observance fall into disuse, and there reign the blights, and disease, and lassitude, and anger and other deformities, and natural calamities, and anguish, and the fear of scarcity. As the yugas wane, virtue dwindles; as virtue dwindles, creatures degenerate; as creatures degenerate, their natures deteriorate; and the religious acts performed at the waning of the yugas produce contrary effects. Even those who live for several yugas conform to these changes. Represser of foes, as for your curiosity about me, I say this: why should a wise person be eager to know a superfluous matter? Thus, long-armed one, I have told you in full what you asked about the characteristics of the ages. Good come to you. Go back.

A key to reading this (an idea): This part is Hanuman’s teaching, and its heart is in the first sentence: he cannot show his old form because a form belongs to its age, and the age has changed. Narayana’s color changes with each age, white, red, yellow, black, and virtue drops one quarter at a time, from four to one. This is the frame the Mahabharata sets itself in: the end of the Dwapara, on the threshold of the Kali.

The gist: Bhima asks his elder brother for the shape that leaped the sea. The answer is a refusal and a lesson: Time is irresistible, and everything is shaped to its age. Then the descending staircase from Krita to Kali, on which the Pandavas themselves stand near the bottom step.

A body the size of Vindhya, and Hanuman’s teaching to Bhima on the duty of a Kshatriya

Without seeing your former shape I will never go away, Bhimasena said. If I have found favor with you, show me your own shape. The monkey smiled and showed him the form in which he had bounded over the main. Wishing to gratify his brother, Hanuman assumed a gigantic body, which increased exceedingly in length and breadth both, and that monkey of immeasurable effulgence stood there covering the whole plantain grove, rising to the height of Vindhya. Having attained that lofty body like a mountain, with coppery eyes and sharp teeth and a face marked by a frown, he lay covering every side and lashing his long tail. Bhima looked at his brother’s gigantic form and wondered, and the hair of his body stood on end again and again, and seeing him like the sun in splendor, like a golden mountain, like the blazing sky, Bhima closed his eyes. Hanuman said with a smile: sinless one, you are capable of beholding my size up to this extent. I can go on swelling as long as I wish, and among enemies, Bhima, my size increases exceedingly by its own energy. Witnessing that dreadful and wonderful body like the Vindhya mountain, the son of the wind god was bewildered, and with his hair on end the noble-minded Bhima joined his hands and said: lord, I have seen the vast dimensions of your body. Now, highly powerful one, decrease yourself by your own power. I cannot look at you, like the risen sun, immeasurable and irrepressible, like the mountain Mainaka. Hero, today the wonder of my heart is very great, that with you at his side Rama should have had to fight Ravana in person. Depending on the strength of your arms you could have destroyed Lanka in an instant, with its warriors and horses and elephants and chariots. Surely, son of the wind god, there is nothing you cannot achieve, and in fight Ravana and his followers were no match for you single-handed. Hanuman answered in affectionate words spoken in a solemn voice. Mighty-armed one, Bharata, it is as you say. Bhimasena, that worst of Rakshasas was no match for me. But if I had killed Ravana, that thorn of the worlds, the glory of Raghu’s son would have been obscured, and for that reason I left him alone. By killing the lord of the Rakshasas with his followers and bringing Sita back to his own city, that hero established his fame among men.

Then, because Bhima had asked as a disciple, Hanuman taught him. Now, highly wise one, intent on the welfare of your brothers and protected by the wind god, go along a fortunate and auspicious way. Foremost of the Kurus, this way will lead you to the Saugandhika wood. Going in this direction you will see the gardens of Kubera, guarded by Yakshas and Rakshasas. Do not pluck the flowers there in person by your own force, for the gods deserve regard, especially from mortals. The gods confer their favor on men when they are propitiated by offerings and homas and reverential salutations and the recitation of mantras and veneration. So do not act with rashness, child, and do not deviate from the duties of your order. Sticking to the duties of your order, understand and follow the highest morality. Without knowing duties and serving the old, even persons like Brihaspati cannot understand profit and religion. One should ascertain with discrimination the cases in which vice goes under the name of virtue and virtue under the name of vice, cases in which people without intelligence become perplexed. From religious observance comes merit; in merit the Vedas are established; from the Vedas come sacrifices; and by sacrifices the gods are established. The gods are maintained by the sacrifices prescribed by the Vedas and the ordinances, while men maintain themselves by the ordinances of Brihaspati and Ushanas and by the avocations by which the world is maintained: service for wages, taxes, merchandise, agriculture, and the tending of cattle and sheep. The world subsists by profession. The study of the three Vedas, and agriculture, and trade, and government constitute, the wise ordain, the professions of the twice-born, and each order maintains itself by following the profession prescribed for it. When these callings are properly pursued, the world is maintained with ease. If people do not lead their lives righteously, the world becomes lawless for want of Vedic merit and government. If people do not resort to their prescribed vocations they perish, but by regularly following the three professions they bring about religion. The religion of the Brahmins consists in the knowledge of the soul, and the hue of that order alone is everywhere the same. Sacrifice and study and the bestowal of gifts are the three duties common to all the orders. Officiating at sacrifices, teaching, and accepting gifts are the duties of a Brahmin. To rule the subjects is the duty of the Kshatriya; to tend cattle, that of the Vaishya; to serve the twice-born orders is said to be the duty of the Shudra. The Shudras cannot beg alms or perform homas or observe vows, and they must dwell in the habitation of their masters. Your vocation, son of Kunti, is that of the Kshatriya, which is to protect. Carry out your own duties in a humble spirit, restraining your senses. That king alone can govern who takes counsel of experienced men and is helped by honest, intelligent, and learned ministers; a king addicted to vices meets with defeat. Only then is the order of the world secured, when the king duly punishes and duly confers favors. So it is necessary to ascertain through spies the nature of the hostile country, its fortified places and the allied forces of the enemy, their prosperity and decay, and the way they keep the adhesion of the powers they have drawn to their side. Spies are among the important auxiliaries of a king; and tact, diplomacy, prowess, chastisement, favor, and cleverness lead to success. Success is attained through these, separately or combined: conciliation, gift, sowing dissension, chastisement, and watchfulness. And, chief of the Bharatas, polity has diplomacy for its root, and diplomacy is the main qualification of spies. Polity, well judged, confers success, so in matters of polity the counsel of Brahmins should be sought. In secret affairs these should not be consulted: a woman, a sot, a boy, a covetous person, a mean-minded individual, and one who betrays signs of insanity. Only wise men should be consulted, and affairs dispatched through able officers. Polity must be executed through friendly persons, and dunces excluded from every affair. In religious matters, pious men; in matters of gain, wise men; in guarding families, eunuchs; and in all crooked affairs, crooked men must be employed. The propriety or impropriety of the enemy’s resolutions, and their strength or weakness, must be learned through one’s own spies and the enemy’s. Favor should be shown to honest persons who have prudently sought protection, but lawless and disobedient individuals should be punished. When the king justly punishes and shows favor, the dignity of the law is maintained. Son of Pritha, thus I have expounded to you the hard duties of kings, difficult to comprehend. Observe them with equanimity as prescribed for your order. The Brahmins attain heaven through merit, mortification of the senses, and sacrifice. The Vaishyas attain an excellent state through gifts, hospitality, and religious acts. The Kshatriyas attain the celestial regions by protecting and chastising the subjects, uninfluenced by lust, malice, avarice, and anger. If kings punish their subjects justly, they go to the place where the meritorious go.

A key to reading this (an answer): Bhima’s question is a question about the whole Ramayana: you were there, so why did Rama have to fight? Hanuman’s answer is the servant’s dharma: the glory must belong to the master. The teaching that follows expands the same thread, do the work of your own order, and its first, most concrete warning is the one to watch: do not pluck the flowers in Kubera’s garden by your own force. The story will show, in the very next episode, how Bhima forgets it. Conciliation, gift, dissension, and chastisement are the four classical means of statecraft; Vyasa counts a fifth here, watchfulness.

The gist: Hanuman grows to the height of Vindhya and Bhima shuts his eyes. Asked why, with such strength beside him, Rama had to fight at all, Hanuman gives the highest rule of service: the glory belongs to the master. Then he explains to Bhima his own road and his own dharma, and hides in it a warning that will be tested in the next episode.

The embrace, a boon, and the promise to roar from Arjuna’s flagstaff

Then, contracting the huge body he had assumed at will, the monkey embraced Bhimasena again with his arms, and at that embrace, Bharata, Bhima’s fatigue went out of him and all the powers of his body and his strength were restored, and having gained so great an accession of strength he thought that no one equaled him in physical power. With tears in his eyes the monkey spoke to Bhima again out of affection, in a choked voice. Hero, go back to your own abode. May I be remembered by you now and then in your talk. Best of Kurus, do not tell anyone that I abide here. Mighty one, the most excellent of the wives of the gods and Gandharvas resort to this place, and the time of their coming is near. My eyes have been blessed. And Bhima, having felt a human being by coming in contact with you, I have been reminded of that son of Raghu who was Vishnu himself under the name of Rama, who delighted the heart of the world, who was the sun to the lotus face of Sita and to that darkness, Ravana. So, heroic son of Kunti, let your meeting with me not be fruitless. Ask a boon of me with a brother’s feeling. If it is your wish that I go to Varanavata and destroy the insignificant sons of Dhritarashtra, I will do it immediately. Or if it is your wish that I grind that city with rocks, or that I bind Duryodhana and bring him before you, I will do that today, mighty one.

Bhimasena heard the high-souled one and answered with a cheerful heart. Foremost of monkeys, I take all this as already performed by you. Good come to you, mighty-armed one. I ask this of you: be well pleased with me. Powerful one, with you as our protector the Pandavas have found help. By your prowess we shall conquer all our enemies. Hanuman said: from a brother’s feeling and affection I will do you good, by diving into the army of your enemies, copiously furnished with arrows and javelins. And when you give your leonine roars, hero, I will add force to your shouts with my own. Remaining on the flagstaff of Arjuna’s chariot I will emit fierce shouts that will damp the energy of your enemies, and so you will slay them easily. Having said this to Pandu’s son and pointed out the way, Hanuman vanished on the spot.

When that foremost of monkeys had gone, Bhima, best of strong men, went on along the huge Gandhamadana by that path, thinking of Hanuman’s body and his splendor unrivaled on earth, and of the greatness and dignity of Dasharatha’s son. Searching for the place of those lotuses, he saw romantic woods and groves and rivers and lakes graced with blossoming trees, flowery woodlands variegated with every kind of flower, herds of mad elephants smeared with mud like masses of pouring cloud. The graceful one went on at speed, seeing by the wayside woods where quick-glancing deer stood with their mates holding grass in their mouths, and fearless from prowess, as if invited by the wind-shaken trees forever fragrant with flowers and bearing delicate coppery twigs, he plunged into the mountain regions of buffaloes and bears and leopards. On the way he passed lotus lakes haunted by maddened black bees, with romantic descents and woods, which because of their lotus buds seemed to have joined their hands before him. With Draupadi’s words for his provisions he went on with speed, his mind and sight fixed on the blooming slopes, and when the sun had passed the meridian he saw, in the forest scattered with deer, a mighty river filled with fresh golden lotuses. Crowded with swans and karandavas and graced with chakravakas, it looked like a garland of fresh lotuses the mountain had put on. And in that river the one of great strength found the vast assemblage of saugandhika lotuses, effulgent as the rising sun and delightful to see, and seeing it, Pandu’s son thought that his object was gained, and in his mind he stood already before his beloved, worn out by exile.

A key to reading this (a promise): This is the moment from which Arjuna’s banner takes its name, Kapidhvaja, the monkey-flag: from the Bhishma Parva onward Hanuman sits on the flagstaff of Arjuna’s chariot at Kurukshetra, and his roar drains the courage of the Kaurava host. Hanuman’s boon has two faces: he offers to bring Duryodhana in bound, and Bhima, counting that as done, asks only for goodwill. Varanavata is the town of the lacquer house, where the Kauravas once tried to burn the Pandavas alive.

The gist: The embrace takes away Bhima’s tiredness and adds to his strength. Hanuman weeps, because the touch of a human being has brought back Rama. He offers Varanavata and Duryodhana; Bhima asks for favor; and Hanuman gives the promise that will sound from Arjuna’s flagstaff in the war. Then, past noon, Bhima reaches the river where the saugandhika lotuses shine like the sun.

Kubera’s lake: the battle with the Krodhavashas, Kubera’s smile, and Yudhishthira’s rebuke

Reaching that spot, Bhimasena saw near the Kailasa cliff the beautiful lotus lake, surrounded by lovely woods and guarded by Rakshasas. It sprang from the cascades beside Kubera’s abode. It was beautiful to see, wide-shaded, full of trees and creepers, covered with green lilies, filled with golden lotuses, swarming with birds of every kind, and its banks were beautiful and free of mud. Set on its rocky height, that expanse of excellent water was exceedingly fair, the wonder of the world, healthful, romantic to see. In it the son of Kunti found water of ambrosial taste, cool and light and clear and fresh, and he drank of it deeply. That unearthly receptacle of waters was covered with celestial saugandhika lotuses and with beautiful variegated golden lotuses of excellent fragrance, with graceful stalks of lapis lazuli, and swayed by swans and karandavas the lotuses scattered fresh pollen. This was the sporting ground of the high-souled Kubera, king of the Yakshas, held in high regard by Gandharvas and Apsaras and celestials, frequented by celestial sages and Yakshas and Kimpurushas and Rakshasas and Kinnaras, and well protected. At the sight of that river and that unearthly lake, Kunti’s son Bhimasena of the mighty strength was exceedingly delighted. And by their king’s command hundreds and thousands of Rakshasas named Krodhavashas were guarding it, in uniform and armed with weapons of every kind. As the heroic Bhima of the dreadful prowess, in deerskin, wearing golden armlets, equipped with weapons and girt with his sword, went fearlessly forward to gather the lotuses, they saw him and began calling to each other: you ought to ask what errand this foremost of men, in deerskin and armed, has come on. They all approached the effulgent Vrikodara and asked: who are you? Answer our questions. We see you in the guise of an ascetic and yet armed with weapons. You of the mighty intelligence, tell us the object you have come for.

Bhima said: I am the son of Pandu, next by birth to Yudhishthira the just, and my name is Bhimasena. Rakshasas, I have come with my brothers to the jujube named Vishala. There Panchali saw an excellent saugandhika lotus, which was certainly carried there by the wind from this region. She wishes to have those flowers in abundance. Know, Rakshasas, that I am engaged in fulfilling the desire of my wedded wife of the faultless features, and have come here to procure the flowers. The Rakshasas said: foremost of men, this spot is dear to Kubera and is his sporting ground. Men subject to death cannot sport here. Vrikodara, the celestial sages and the gods drink from this lake and sport in it with the permission of the chief of the Yakshas, and the Gandharvas and Apsaras also divert themselves here. That wicked person who, disregarding the lord of treasures, unlawfully attempts to sport here meets with destruction, without doubt. Disregarding him, you seek to take the lotuses from this place by main force. Why then do you say that you are the brother of Yudhishthira the just? First take the permission of the lord of Yakshas; then drink from the lake and take the flowers. If you do not, you shall not be able even to glance at a single lotus. Bhimasena said: Rakshasas, I do not see the lord of wealth here. And even if I saw that mighty king, I would not beseech him. Kshatriyas never beseech anybody. That is the eternal morality, and I have no wish to forsake the Kshatriya morality. Further, this lotus lake has sprung from the cascades of the mountain; it was not excavated in the mansion of Kubera. Therefore it belongs equally to all creatures along with Vaishravana. With a thing of that nature, who goes to beseech another?

Having said this to the Rakshasas, the mighty-armed and exceedingly unforbearing Bhimasena plunged into the lotus lake. They forbade him, do not do this, and from every side they abused him in anger, but slighting them, that one of dreadful prowess plunged farther and farther. Then they all prepared to oppose him. With rolling eyes and upraised arms they rushed at him in wrath, exclaiming, seize him! bind him! hew him! we shall cook Bhimasena and eat him! He took up his ponderous and mighty mace inlaid with plates of gold, like the mace of Yama himself, turned to face them, and said one word: stay. They darted at him brandishing lances and axes and other weapons; wanting to destroy him, the dreadful and fierce Krodhavashas surrounded him on all sides. But that one, endowed with strength, had been begotten by Vayu in the womb of Kunti; he was heroic and energetic, a slayer of foes, ever devoted to virtue and truth, incapable of being vanquished by enemies through prowess. So this high-souled Bhima, defeating every maneuver of the enemy and breaking their arms, killed on the banks of the lake more than a hundred of them, beginning with the foremost. Witnessing his prowess and strength and the force of his skill and the might of his arms, and unable to bear the onset, those prime heroes suddenly fled on every side in bands. Beaten and pierced by Bhimasena, the Krodhavashas left the field and fled in confusion toward the Kailasa cliff, supporting themselves in the sky. Having defeated those hosts by his prowess as Shakra had defeated the armies of the Daityas and the Danavas, the conqueror plunged into the lake and began to gather the lotuses. As he drank of the water, like nectar, his energy and strength were fully restored, and he fell to plucking and gathering the saugandhika lotuses of excellent fragrance. Meanwhile the Krodhavashas, driven off by Bhima’s might and exceedingly terrified, presented themselves before the lord of wealth and gave him an exact account of Bhima’s prowess and strength in fight. Hearing them, the god smiled. Let Bhima take for Krishna as many lotuses as he likes, he said. This is already known to me. Then, with the lord of wealth’s permission, those Rakshasas gave up their anger and went to that foremost of the Kurus, and in that lotus lake they saw Bhima, alone, disporting himself in delight.

Then, best of the Bharatas, Bhima began to gather those rare, unearthly, variegated, fresh flowers in abundance. And back at the hermitage the sky changed. A high and violent wind rose, piercing to the touch, blowing gravel, portending battle. Frightful meteors shot down with thundering sounds. Enveloped by darkness, the sun grew pale, his rays obscured. As Bhima displayed his prowess, dreadful sounds of explosion rang through the sky. The earth trembled and dust fell in showers. The points of the heavens reddened. Beasts and birds cried in shrill tones. Everything was covered in darkness and nothing could be distinguished, and other evil omens appeared besides. Witnessing these strange phenomena, Dharma’s son Yudhishthira, foremost of speakers, said: who is it that will overcome us? Pandavas who delight in battle, good betide you; equip yourselves. From what I see, I infer that the time for the display of our prowess has drawn near. Then the king looked around, and not finding Bhima, that represser of foes, he asked Krishna and the twins standing near about his brother, the doer of dreadful deeds in battle. Panchali, is Bhima intent on performing some great feat, or has that one who delights in daring deeds already achieved some brave deed? Portending great danger, these omens have appeared all around, indicating a fearful battle. His beloved queen, the high-minded Krishna of the sweet smiles, answered to relieve his anxiety. King, that saugandhika lotus brought today by the wind I had shown to Bhimasena, out of love, and I had said to that hero, if you can find many of this species, procuring even all of them, come back speedily. Pandava, that mighty-armed one, wanting to gratify my desire, may have gone toward the northeast to bring them. The king said to the twins: let us together follow the path taken by Vrikodara. Let the Rakshasas carry those Brahmins who are fatigued and weak. Ghatotkacha, you who are like a celestial, carry Krishna. I am convinced, and it is plain, that Bhima has dived into the forest, for it is long since he went, and in speed he resembles the wind, and in clearing the ground he is swift like Vinata’s son, and he will leap into the sky and alight at his will. Rakshasas, we shall follow him through your prowess. He will not at first do any wrong to the Siddhas versed in the Vedas. So be it, said Hidimba’s son and the other Rakshasas who knew the quarter where Kubera’s lotus lake lay, and they started cheerfully with Lomasha, bearing the Pandavas and many of the Brahmins. Having shortly reached the spot, they saw that romantic lake covered with saugandhika and other lotuses and surrounded by beautiful woods, and on its shores they saw the high-souled and vehement Bhima, and the slaughtered Yakshas of the large eyes, with their bodies and eyes and arms and thighs smashed and their heads crushed. Seeing him standing on the shore in an angry mood, with steadfast eyes, biting his lip, his mace upraised in both hands, like Yama with his mace in his hand at the end of the world, Yudhishthira the just embraced him again and again and said in sweet words: Kaunteya, what have you done? Good betide you. If you wish to do good to me, you must never again commit such a rash act, nor offend the gods. Having instructed the son of Kunti and taken the flowers, those godlike ones began to sport in that very lake. At that instant the huge-bodied warders of the gardens, armed with rocks, presented themselves, and seeing Yudhishthira the just and the great sage Lomasha and Nakula and Sahadeva and the other foremost Brahmins, they all bowed in humility. Pacified by Yudhishthira the just, the Rakshasas were satisfied, and with Kubera’s knowledge those foremost of Kurus dwelt pleasantly for a short time on the slopes of Gandhamadana, expecting Arjuna.

A key to reading this (an argument and a warning): Bhima’s argument cuts two ways: a Kshatriya does not beg, and a lake fed by mountain springs is nobody’s excavation, so it belongs to everyone. Hanuman had just told him, for precisely this moment, not to pluck the flowers in Kubera’s garden by force; Bhima does exactly that, and Yudhishthira repeats the warning. Kubera’s smile, “this is already known to me,” lightens the episode, but the epic does not cover Bhima’s rashness. Krodhavashas, “those in the grip of anger,” is the name of Kubera’s guardian Rakshasas; Vinata’s son is Garuda.

The gist: Near Kailasa lies the lake the wind’s lotus came from. The guards tell Bhima to ask permission; Bhima says Kshatriyas do not ask. The mace comes up, more than a hundred guards fall, the rest flee to Kailasa, and Kubera smiles and lets the lotuses go. Meanwhile, alarmed by omens, Yudhishthira arrives on the Rakshasas’ shoulders and finds Bhima standing among crushed Yakshas with his mace raised: an embrace, and a rebuke.

A voice from the sky, and Jatasura: the Rakshasa who lived among them like fire under ash

Once, while living at that place, Yudhishthira said to Krishna and his brothers and the Brahmins: we have seen, one after another, sacred and auspicious tirthas and woods delightful to behold, visited before us by the celestials and the high-souled sages and worshiped by the Brahmins. In many sacred asylums we have bathed with Brahmins and heard from them the lives and acts of many sages and of many royal sages of yore, and other pleasant stories. With flowers and water we have worshiped the gods, and with offerings of fruit and roots as each place afforded we have gratified the fathers. With the high-souled ones we have bathed in every sacred and beautiful mountain and lake, and in the most sacred ocean. With the Brahmins we have bathed in the Ila and the Sarasvati and the Sindhu and the Yamuna and the Narmada and various other romantic tirthas. Having passed the source of the Ganga, we have seen many a lovely hill and the Himalaya mountains inhabited by birds of every kind, and the jujube named Vishala, where the hermitage of Nara and Narayana stands. And finally we have seen this unearthly lake, venerated by the Siddhas, the gods, and the sages. In fact, foremost of Brahmins, one by one we have carefully seen every celebrated and sacred spot, in the company of the high-souled Lomasha. Now, Bhima, how shall we reach the sacred abode of Vaishravana, inhabited by the Siddhas? Think of the means of entering it. When the king had said this, a voice spoke from the air. You will not be able to go to that inaccessible spot. By this very way, go back from this region of Kubera to the place you came from, the hermitage of Nara and Narayana known as Badari. From there, Kaunteya, you will go to the hermitage of Vrishaparva, abounding in flowers and fruit and inhabited by Siddhas and Charanas. Having passed that, Partha, you will go to the hermitage of Arshtishena, and from there you will behold the abode of Kubera. At that moment the breeze became fresh and gladsome and cool and redolent of unearthly fragrance, and it showered blossoms. Hearing the celestial voice from the sky they were all amazed, most of all the earthly rishis and the Brahmins, and the Brahmin Dhaumya said: this should not be gainsaid. Bharata, let it be so. King Yudhishthira obeyed him, and returning to the hermitage of Nara and Narayana, he lived there pleasantly, surrounded by Bhimasena and his other brothers, Panchali, and the Brahmins.

So they lived on that best of mountains with the Brahmins, waiting for Arjuna, and the Pandavas had grown confident, and all the Rakshasas together with Bhima’s son had gone, when one day, with Bhimasena away, a Rakshasa suddenly carried off Yudhishthira the just and the twins and Krishna. That Rakshasa, in the guise of a Brahmin, had stayed constantly in the Pandavas’ company, claiming to be a high-class Brahmin skilled in counsel and versed in all the shastras. His object was to get possession of the bows and quivers and the other equipment belonging to the Pandavas, and he had been watching for a chance to ravish Draupadi. That wicked and sinful one was named Jatasura, and, king of kings, Pandu’s son had been supporting him and did not know that wretch for what he was, a fire covered in ash. One day, while Bhimasena the represser of foes was out hunting, seeing Ghatotkacha and his followers scattered in different directions, and seeing the vow-keeping great sages of ascetic wealth, Lomasha and the rest, gone off to bathe and collect flowers, he assumed a different form, gigantic and monstrous and frightful, and having secured all the Pandavas’ arms and Draupadi as well, that wicked one fled, taking the three Pandavas with him. Then Pandu’s son Sahadeva extricated himself by exertion, snatched by force the sword named Kaushika from the enemy’s grasp, and began to call for Bhimasena, heading in the direction the mighty one had gone.

And Yudhishthira the just, carried off, spoke to the Rakshasa as he would have spoken from a throne. Stupid one, your merit decreases even by this act of yours. Do you pay no heed to the established order of nature? Whether of the human race or of the lower orders, all pay regard to virtue, and the Rakshasas especially; in the first instance they knew virtue better than others. Considering all this, you ought to adhere to virtue. Rakshasa, the gods, the fathers, the Siddhas, the sages, the Gandharvas, the brutes, and even the worms and ants depend for their lives on men, and you too live through that agency. If prosperity attends the human race, your race prospers too; if calamities befall it, even the celestials grieve. Gratified by offerings, the gods thrive. Rakshasa, we are the guardians, governors, and preceptors of kingdoms. If kingdoms go unprotected, where can prosperity and happiness come from? Unless there be an offense, a Rakshasa should not violate a king. Man-eater, we have committed no wrong, ever so little. Living on the leavings of sacrifice, we serve the gods and others to the best of our power, and we are never remiss in bowing to our superiors and to Brahmins. A friend, and one who trusts you, and one whose food you have eaten, and one who has given you shelter should never be injured. You have lived in our place happily and been duly honored. Evil-minded one, having eaten our food, how can you carry us off? Since your acts are so improper, since you have grown old without deriving any benefit from it and your propensities are evil, you deserve to die for nothing, and for nothing you will die today. And if you really are evil-disposed and devoid of all virtue, then give us back our weapons and ravish Draupadi after a fight. But if through stupidity you must do this deed, you will only reap demerit and infamy in the world. Rakshasa, by doing violence to this woman of the human race you have drunk poison, having shaken the vessel. Then Yudhishthira made himself heavy for the Rakshasa. Oppressed by the weight, the demon could no longer move as fast as before, and Yudhishthira said to Draupadi and Nakula and Sahadeva: do not fear this stupid Rakshasa. I have checked his speed. The mighty-armed son of the wind god cannot be far away; the moment he comes, the Rakshasa will not live. And Sahadeva, seeing the Rakshasa bereft of sense, said to Yudhishthira: what can be more meritorious for a Kshatriya than to fall in fight, or to defeat a foe? Represser of foes, we will fight, and either this one will slay us or we shall slay him, mighty-armed one. Verily this is the place and the time. You of unfailing prowess, the time has come for the display of our Kshatriya virtue. We must attain heaven either by winning or by being slain. If the sun sets today with the Rakshasa still living, Bharata, I will never again say that I am a Kshatriya. And to the Rakshasa: listen, Rakshasa. I am Pandu’s son, Sahadeva. Either kill me and carry off this lady, or be killed and lie senseless here.

A key to reading this (a name): Kaushika is the name of Sahadeva’s sword. Yudhishthira’s “making himself heavy” is a power of his own, which comes from his dharma; he never lifts a weapon, and the demon slows under him. “Fire covered in ash” is the epic’s own image for the guest who was never a guest.

The gist: A voice from the sky shuts Kubera’s door and gives the road ahead. And then the Brahmin who has sat with them for months reciting scripture shows his real shape. Yudhishthira lectures him on dharma and grows heavy; Sahadeva seizes a sword and challenges him to a fight. Bhima has not yet come back from the hunt.

The end of Jatasura: a battle of trees, rocks, and bare arms

Madri’s son Sahadeva was still speaking when Bhimasena appeared, mace in hand, like Vasava himself wielding the thunderbolt. He saw his two brothers and the noble-minded Draupadi on the demon’s shoulders, and Sahadeva on the ground rebuking the Rakshasa, and the stupid Rakshasa himself, deprived of sense by fate, wandering in different directions in the bewilderment destiny had put on him. Seeing his brothers and Draupadi being carried off, Bhima of the mighty strength was fired with wrath and spoke to the Rakshasa, and the first thing he said was why the demon was still alive. I had already found you out for a wicked wight from the way you scrutinized our weapons. But since I had no apprehension of you, I did not kill you then. You were in the disguise of a Brahmin; you said nothing harsh to us; you took delight in pleasing us; you did us no wrong; and you were our guest. How could I kill you, innocent of offense as you seemed and dressed as a Brahmin? He who knowing such a one to be a Rakshasa kills him goes to hell. And you could not be killed before your time. Surely today you have reached the fullness of your time, since your mind has been turned by wonder-working fate toward carrying off Krishna. By committing yourself to this deed you have swallowed the hook fastened to the line of fate. Like a fish in the water with its mouth hooked, how can you live today? You will not go where you intend, nor where you have already gone in your mind. You will go where Vaka and Hidimba have gone.

The Rakshasa put them down in alarm and, forced by fate, came forward to fight. With his lips trembling in anger he said to Bhima: wretch, I have not been bewildered; I was delaying for you. Today I will offer the oblation of your blood to those Rakshasas who, I have heard, have been slain by you in fight. Bhima rushed at him as if bursting with wrath, like Yama at the end of the world, licking the corners of his mouth and staring at him as he struck his own arms with his hands. Seeing Bhima waiting for the fight, the Rakshasa too darted at him in anger, like Vali at the wielder of the thunderbolt, gaping and licking the corners of his mouth. A dreadful wrestling began between the two, and both sons of Madri, exceeding wroth, rushed forward, but Kunti’s son Vrikodara forbade them with a smile. Witness it, he said. I am more than a match for this Rakshasa. By my own self, and by my brothers, and by my merit and my good deeds and my sacrifices, I swear that I will kill this Rakshasa. Then the two heroes, the Rakshasa and Vrikodara, challenging each other, caught each other by the arms, and forgiving nothing, they fought as a god and a demon fight. Uprooting trees again and again, those two of mighty strength struck each other with them, shouting and roaring like two masses of cloud. Foremost of athletes, each wishing to kill the other and rushing at the other with vehemence, they broke down many a gigantic tree with their thighs, and that encounter with trees, destructive of plants, went on like the one between the brothers Vali and Sugriva, who fought over one woman. For a moment they brandished trees and struck each other with them, shouting without pause, and when every tree at the spot had been pulled down and crushed into fibers in their effort to kill each other, they took up rocks and fought a while like a mountain and a mighty mass of cloud, striking each other with hard, large crags like vehement thunderbolts. Then, defying each other from strength, they darted at each other again and, grasping each other by the arms, wrestled like two elephants and dealt each other fierce blows, gnashing their teeth with a chattering sound. At length, having clenched his fist like a five-headed snake, Bhima brought it down with force on the neck of the Rakshasa. The Rakshasa went faint, and Bhimasena stood holding the exhausted creature. Then the godlike, mighty-armed Bhima lifted him in his two arms and dashed him to the ground with force, and Pandu’s son smashed all his limbs, and striking him with his elbow he severed the head from the body, with its bitten lips and rolling eyes, like a fruit from its stem. Jatasura’s head, cut off by Bhimasena’s might, fell smeared with gore, its lips bitten. Having killed Jatasura, Bhima presented himself before Yudhishthira, and the foremost Brahmins began to praise him as the Maruts praise Vasava.

A key to reading this (names): Vaka and Hidimba are the two Rakshasas Bhima has already killed in the Adi Parva; Hidimba was the brother of Ghatotkacha’s mother. Bhima’s reasoning, that to kill a guest and an apparent Brahmin on suspicion leads to hell, and that “no one dies before his time,” belongs to the same sense of fate that runs through the whole Mahabharata. The comparison to Vali and Sugriva is from the Ramayana Hanuman has just finished telling.

The gist: Bhima arrives and first explains why he let a demon he had recognized go on living; then he calls him a fish on fate’s hook. The fight goes from trees to rocks and from rocks to bare arms, and a fist and an elbow finish it.

The fifth year: Vrishaparva’s hermitage, seventeen days of climbing, and the forest of Gandhamadana

With the Rakshasa slain, the royal son of Kunti returned to the hermitage of Narayana and lived there. And once, remembering his brother Jaya, Arjuna, Yudhishthira called all his brothers together with Draupadi and said: we have passed these four years peacefully, ranging the woods. Bibhatsu appointed that about the fifth year he would come to that monarch of mountains, the excellent cliff Shveta, forever graced with the festivities of blooming plants and maddened kokilas and black bees and peacocks and chatakas, inhabited by tigers and boars and buffaloes and gayals and deer and fierce beasts, sacred, lovely with blown lotuses of a hundred and a thousand petals and blooming lilies and blue lilies, and frequented by celestials and Asuras. We, anxious to meet him when he arrives, have made up our minds to go there. Partha of the unrivaled prowess appointed with me, saying, I shall remain abroad for five years to learn the science of arms. In that place like the region of the gods we shall see the wielder of Gandiva arrive, having obtained the weapons. He summoned the Brahmins, and the sons of Pritha walked around the ascetics of rigid austerity and pleased them and told them the plan, and the Brahmins gave their assent: this shall be attended by prosperity and welfare. Foremost of the Bharatas, these troubles shall end in happiness. Pious one, gaining the earth by the Kshatriya virtue, you shall govern it. In obedience to those words Yudhishthira set out with his brothers and the Brahmins, followed by the Rakshasa and protected by Lomasha; and that one of mighty energy and staunch vows went with his brothers on foot in some places and in others was carried by the Rakshasas. Apprehending many troubles, he went toward the north, the country of lions and tigers and elephants, and beholding on the way the mountain Mainaka and the base of Gandhamadana and the rocky mass of Shveta and many a crystal rivulet higher and higher up the mountain, he reached on the seventeenth day the sacred slopes of the Himalaya. And, king, not far from Gandhamadana, Pandu’s son saw on the sacred slopes of Himavan, covered with trees and creepers of every kind, the holy hermitage of Vrishaparva, surrounded by blossoming trees growing near the cascades. When they had recovered from fatigue, the sons of Pandu went to the royal sage, the pious Vrishaparva, and greeted him, and that royal sage received the foremost of Bharatas with affection, as his own sons. They passed seven nights there, duly regarded. On the eighth day, with the permission of that sage celebrated over the worlds, they prepared to start. One by one they introduced to Vrishaparva those Brahmins who, duly honored, remained in his charge as friends, and they entrusted to the high-souled Vrishaparva their remaining robes, and left in his hermitage their sacrificial vessels together with their ornaments and jewels. Wise and pious and versed in every duty, knowing the past and the future, he instructed those best of Bharatas as his own sons, and with his permission they set out toward the north. As they went, the magnanimous Vrishaparva followed them a certain distance; then, having entrusted the Pandavas to the care of the Brahmins and instructed and blessed them and given directions for their course, Vrishaparva of the mighty energy went back.

Then Kunti’s son Yudhishthira of the unfailing prowess and his brothers went on foot along the mountain path, among beasts of every kind. Having lived on slopes densely overgrown with trees, Pandu’s son reached on the fourth day the Shveta mountain, like a mighty mass of cloud, abounding in streams, a mass of gold and gems. Taking the way Vrishaparva had directed, they reached the intended places one by one, seeing many mountains, and again and again they passed with ease many inaccessible rocks and impassable caves. Dhaumya and Krishna and the Parthas and the mighty sage Lomasha went on together, and none grew tired. Those highly fortunate ones came to the sacred and mighty mountain resounding with the cries of birds and beasts, covered with trees and creepers of every kind, inhabited by monkeys, romantic, with many lotus lakes and marshes and extensive forests. And then, with their hair standing on end, they saw the mountain Gandhamadana, abode of Kimpurushas, frequented by Siddhas and Charanas, ranged by Vidyadharis and Kinnaris, inhabited by herds of elephants, thronged with lions and tigers, resounding with the roars of sharabhas, attended by beasts of every kind. The warlike sons of Pandu gradually entered the forest of Gandhamadana, like the Nandana gardens, delightful to mind and heart, worthy of habitation, beautiful with groves. As those heroes entered with Draupadi and the high-souled Brahmins, they heard notes from the mouths of birds, exceedingly sweet and graceful to the ear, delightful and dulcet and broken by an excess of animal spirits. They saw trees bending under fruit in every season and ever bright with flowers: mangoes and hog plums and bhavyas and pomegranates, citrons and jackfruits and lakuchas and plantains and water reeds and parvatas and champakas and lovely kadambas and bilvas, wood apples and rose apples and kashmaris and jujubes and figs and cluster figs and banyans and peepals and khirikas and marking nuts and amalakas and bibhitakas and ingudas and karamardas and tindukas with their large fruit; these and many others on the slopes of Gandhamadana, clustered with sweet, nectarine fruit. And besides these they saw champakas and ashokas and ketakas and bakulas and punnagas and saptaparnas and karnikaras and patalas and beautiful kutajas and mandaras and lotuses and parijatas and kovidaras and devadarus and sals and palmyra palms and tamalas and pippalas and shalmalis and kinshukas and shinshapas and saralas, and these were inhabited by chakoras and woodpeckers and chatakas and various other birds singing in sweet tones pleasing to the ear. They saw lakes beautiful on every side with waterfowl, covered all around with kumudas and pundarikas and kokanadas and utpalas and kalharas and kamalas, thronged with drakes and ruddy geese and ospreys and gulls and karandavas and plavas and swans and cranes and shags and other water birds. Those foremost of men saw lotus lakes beautified with assemblages of lotuses and ringing with the sweet hum of bees, glad and drowsy from drinking the intoxicating honey of the lotuses, reddened with the pollen falling from the lotus cups. In the groves they saw peacocks with their hens, maddened with desire by the notes of the cloud trumpets; those wood-loving, glad peacocks, drowsy with desire, were dancing, spreading their gorgeous tails in dalliance and crying in melodious notes. Some sported with their mates on kutaja trees covered with creepers; some sat on the boughs spreading their tails, looking like crowns the trees wore. In the glades they saw the graceful sindhuvaras like the darts of the god of love, on the summits blooming karnikaras with blossoms of a golden hue like earrings of excellent make, in the forest blossoming kuruvakas like the shafts of love, which smite with desire and make one uneasy; they saw tilakas like beauty marks painted on the forehead of the forest, and mango trees in blossom, hummed over by black bees, serving as the arrows of love. On the slopes there were blossoming trees of every kind, some bearing flowers of golden hue, some the hue of a forest fire, some red, some black, some green like lapis, and ranges of sals and tamalas and patalas and bakulas like garlands the summits had put on. Beholding, one after another, the lakes transparent as crystal, with white-plumed swans and the cries of cranes, filled with lotuses and lilies, delicious to the touch, and fragrant flowers and luscious fruits and romantic lakes and captivating trees, the Pandavas penetrated the forest with eyes wide in wonder, fanned by a balmy breeze perfumed with kamalas and utpalas and kalharas and pundarikas.

Then Yudhishthira spoke to Bhima, and it was delight. Ah, Bhima, beautiful is this forest of Gandhamadana. In this romantic forest there are heavenly blossoming wild trees and creepers, bedecked with leaf and fruit, and no tree that does not flower. On these slopes all the trees are of sleek foliage and fruit. See how these lotus lakes with full-blown lotuses, ringing with the hum of black bees, are agitated by elephants with their mates. See another lotus lake girt with lines of lotuses, like a second Shri in embodied form wearing garlands. In this excellent forest there are beautiful ranges of woods rich with the aroma of many blossoms and hummed over by the black bees. And, Bhima, see on every side the excellent sporting ground of the celestials. By coming here we have attained a state beyond the human, and been blessed. Partha, on these slopes those beautiful blossoming trees, embraced by creepers with blossoms at their tops, look lovely. Hark, Bhima, to the notes of the peacocks crying with their hens on the mountain slopes. Chakoras and shatapatras and maddened kokilas and parrots alight on these flowering trees; myriads of jivajivakas of scarlet and yellow and red sit on the twigs looking at one another; the cranes are seen by the spots covered with green and reddish grass and beside the cascades, and bhringarajas and upachakras and herons pour out notes charming to all creatures. And look: with their mates, these elephants with four tusks, white as lotuses, are stirring that great lake the color of lapis. From many cascades torrents high as several palmyra palms placed one on another rush down the cliffs. Many argent minerals, splendid, with the effulgence of the sun and like autumnal clouds, beautify this mighty mountain; in some places minerals the hue of collyrium, in some like gold, in some yellow orpiment and in some vermilion, in some caves of red arsenic like evening clouds, in some red chalk the color of the hare, in some minerals like white and black clouds, and in some those effulgent as the rising sun; these minerals of great luster beautify the mountain. Partha, as Vrishaparva said, the Gandharvas and the Kimpurushas with their loves are visible on the summits, and, Bhima, various songs of appropriate measure are heard, and Vedic hymns, charming to all creatures. Behold the sacred and graceful celestial river Mahaganga, with its swans, resorted to by sages and Kinnaras. And, represser of foes, see this mountain with its minerals and rivulets and beautiful woods and beasts, and snakes of diverse shapes and a hundred heads, and Kinnaras and Gandharvas and Apsaras. Having attained that excellent state, those valiant and warlike repressers of foes, with Draupadi and the high-souled Brahmins, were exceedingly delighted at heart, and they could not get enough of looking at that monarch of mountains. Then they saw the hermitage of the royal sage Arshtishena, furnished with flowers and trees bearing fruit, and they went to Arshtishena, versed in all duties, of rigid austerities, skeleton-like, with his muscles bare.

A key to reading this (a list): The long catalogue of trees and birds is Vyasa’s own and is kept whole, because it is the portrait of Gandhamadana rather than an ornament; where a tree has an ordinary English name it is used, and where it has none the Sanskrit is left to stand. The sharabha is the eight-legged creature of legend that preys on lions. The four-tusked white elephants are the celestial kind, Airavata’s family. This Vrishaparva is a royal sage, not the Danava king of that name in the Adi Parva, the father of Sharmishtha.

The gist: The fourth year is over, and Arjuna’s word was for the fifth year on the Shveta mountain. The Pandavas walk north: seventeen days to the Himalayan slopes, seven nights with Vrishaparva, where they leave their jewels and their vessels, then four days on foot to Shveta, and at last the forest that Yudhishthira cannot stop looking at. At its edge is the hermitage of a sage who is all bone.

Arshtishena’s questions, the limit of Kailasa, and the drums heard on festival days

Approaching the sage whose sins had been consumed by asceticism, Yudhishthira announced his name and greeted him gladly, bending his head, and Krishna and Bhima and the devout twins bowed their heads to the royal sage and stood around him; the priest of the Pandavas, the virtuous Dhaumya, also approached that vow-keeping sage in due form. By his prophetic eye the sage had already known those foremost of the Kurus, the sons of Pandu. Be seated, he said. Having received the chief of the Kurus in due form, when he had sat down with his brothers, the sage of rigid austerity asked after his welfare, and the asking was itself a teaching. Do you not turn your inclination toward untruth? Are you intent on virtue? Partha, has your attention to your father and mother not diminished? Are all your superiors and the aged and those versed in the Vedas honored by you? Son of Pritha, do you not turn your inclination toward sinful acts? Best of the Kurus, do you know properly how to perform meritorious acts and to eschew wicked ones? Do you not exalt yourself? Are pious men gratified by being honored by you? Even in the woods, do you follow virtue alone? Partha, does Dhaumya not grieve at your conduct? Do you follow the customs of your ancestors, by charity and religious observances and asceticism and purity and candor and forgiveness? Do you go along the way the royal sages took? At the birth of a son in their lines, the fathers in their regions both laugh and grieve, thinking: will the sinful acts of this son of ours harm us, or will his meritorious deeds conduce to our welfare? He conquers both worlds who pays homage to his father, his mother, his preceptor, Agni, and fifthly, his own soul. Yudhishthira said: worshipful one, the duties you have named are excellent. To the best of my power I duly and properly discharge them.

Arshtishena said: during the parvas, sages living on air and water come to this best of mountains through the air. On the summits are seen amorous Kimpurushas with their paramours, attached to each other, and, Partha, many Gandharvas and Apsaras clad in white silk, and lovely Vidyadharas wearing garlands, and mighty Nagas and Suparnas and Uragas and others. And on the summits, during the parvas, are heard the sounds of kettledrums and tabors, conches and mridangas. Foremost of the Bharatas, even staying here you will hear those sounds; do not feel inclined in any way to go there. Further, best of the Bharata race, it is impossible to proceed beyond this. That place is the sporting region of the celestials, and there is no access to it for mortals. Bharata, at this place all creatures bear ill will toward, and the Rakshasas chastise, the man who commits aggression, however little. Beyond the summit of this Kailasa cliff is seen the path of the celestial sages. If anyone through impudence goes beyond it, the Rakshasas kill him with iron darts and other weapons. There, child, during the parvas, Vaishravana, who goes about on the shoulders of men, is seen in pomp and grandeur surrounded by the Apsaras, and when that lord of all the Rakshasas sits on the summit, all creatures see him like the risen sun. Best of Bharatas, that summit is the sporting garden of the celestials and the Danavas and the Siddhas and of Vaishravana, and during the parvas, when Tumburu entertains the lord of treasures, the sweet notes of his song are heard all over Gandhamadana. Child, Yudhishthira, here during the parvas all creatures see and hear marvels like these. Pandavas, until you meet with Arjuna, stay here, eating luscious fruit and the food of the sages. Child, having come here, do not betray any impertinence. And, child, after living here at your will and diverting yourself as you please, you will at length rule the earth, having conquered it by the force of your arms.

Janamejaya asked how long his great-grandsires, the high-souled sons of Pandu of matchless prowess, stayed on Gandhamadana, and what those exceedingly powerful ones did, and what they ate, and he asked especially for the prowess of Bhimasena and what that mighty-armed one did on the Himalaya: surely he did not fight again with the Yakshas? and did they meet with Vaishravana, since, as Arshtishena said, the lord of wealth comes there? All this, he said, I desire to hear in detail; I have not yet been satisfied by hearing of their acts. Vaishampayana said: having heard that advice conducive to their welfare from the one of incomparable energy, those foremost of the Bharatas always behaved accordingly. The Pandavas lived on the Himavan eating the food of the sages and luscious fruit and the flesh of deer killed with unpoisoned shafts and various kinds of pure honey, and living so they passed the fifth year, listening to the various stories Lomasha told. Ghatotkacha had already gone away with all the Rakshasas, saying, I shall be present when occasion arises. Those magnanimous ones passed many months in the hermitage of Arshtishena, witnessing many marvels, and as they sported there, some complacent vow-keeping sages and Charanas of high fortune and pure souls came to see them, and those foremost of the Bharata race conversed with them on earthly topics.

A key to reading this (names and a word): The parvas are the lunar festival days, the new moon, the full moon, and the eighths. Kubera is called here “he who goes on the shoulders of men,” Naravahana, one of his names; Tumburu is the celebrated singer of the Gandharvas. Arshtishena’s questions follow the Mahabharata’s custom in which a sage teaches dharma by the very act of asking after a visitor’s health, and the fifth item in his list, “his own soul,” is the key to the whole list.

The gist: The sage who is all bone first examines Yudhishthira’s conduct and then draws a line: beyond the Kailasa cliff is the playground of the gods, and there the Rakshasas kill with iron darts; stay here, you will hear the drums from here. Janamejaya’s question tells us what is coming: did Bhima fight the Yakshas again, and did Kubera come?

Flowers of five colors, Draupadi’s taunt, Bhima before Kubera’s palace, and the death of Maniman

And it came to pass, when several days had gone by, that Suparna suddenly carried off an exceedingly powerful Naga living in the great lake. The mighty mountain trembled and the gigantic trees broke, and all the creatures and the Pandavas witnessed the wonder. Then, from the brow of that excellent mountain, the wind brought before the Pandavas fragrant and fair blossoms of every kind, and the Pandavas and the illustrious Krishna and their friends saw those unearthly flowers of five hues. And as the mighty-armed Bhimasena sat at ease on the mountain, Krishna spoke to him, and what she said was praise with a point in it. Best of the Bharata race, in the presence of all the creatures these flowers of five hues, carried by the force of the wind Suparna raised, are falling thick on the river Ashvaratha. In Khandava your high-souled brother, firm in his promise, baffled Gandharvas and Nagas and Vasava himself, killed fierce Rakshasas, and obtained the bow Gandiva. You too are of exceeding prowess, and the might of your arms is great and irrepressible and unbearable, like the might of Shakra. Bhimasena, let all the Rakshasas, terrified by the force of your arms, take themselves off to the ten points of the compass, leaving the mountain. Then your friends will be freed from fear and affliction and see the auspicious summit of this excellent mountain, furnished with variegated flowers. Bhima, I have long cherished this thought in my mind: that protected by the might of your arms, I shall see that summit.

Like a high-mettled bull that has been struck, Bhimasena, considering himself censured by Draupadi, could not bear it. That Pandava with the gait of a lion or a bull, graceful, generous, with the splendor of gold, intelligent, strong, proud, sensitive, heroic, red-eyed, broad-shouldered, gifted with the strength of mad elephants, with leonine teeth and a broad neck, tall as a young sal tree, high-souled, graceful in every limb, with a neck marked with the whorls of a shell, mighty-armed, took up his bow plaited at the back with gold and his sword, and haughty as a lion, like a maddened elephant, that strong one rushed toward the cliff, free of fear or affliction. All creatures saw him with his bow and arrows, approaching like a lion or a maddened elephant; and taking his mace as well, the Pandava went on to that monarch of mountains, to Draupadi’s delight. Neither exhaustion nor fatigue nor lassitude nor the malice of others touched that son of Pritha and the wind god. Coming to a rugged path with room for one man only, he of the great strength climbed that terrible summit, high as several palmyra palms placed one on another, and having climbed it, and thereby gladdened Kinnaras and great Nagas and sages and Gandharvas and Rakshasas, that foremost of the Bharata line beheld the abode of Vaishravana: adorned with palaces of gold and crystal, surrounded on all sides by golden walls with the splendor of every gem, furnished with gardens all around, higher than a mountain peak, beautiful with ramparts and towers, adorned with doorways and gates and rows of pennons, graced with dallying damsels dancing around and with pennons waved by the breeze. With bent arms, supporting himself on the end of his bow, he stood gazing eagerly at the city of the lord of treasures. A breeze was blowing that gladdened all creatures, carrying every perfume, balmy to feel; there were beautiful and wonderful trees of many hues resounding with sweet notes of every kind; and there the foremost of the Bharatas surveyed the palace of the lord of the Rakshasas, scattered with heaps of gems and adorned with variegated garlands. Renouncing all care of life, the mighty-armed Bhimasena stood motionless as a rock, with mace and sword and bow in his hands. Then he blew his conch, and the down on his adversaries’ bodies stood erect, and twanging his bowstring and striking his arms with his hands, he unnerved every creature.

With their hair standing on end the Yakshas and Rakshasas rushed toward the Pandava in the direction of the sounds. Maces and clubs and swords and spears and javelins and axes flamed in their arms, and when the fight began between the Rakshasas and Bhima, he cut off with arrows the darts and javelins and axes of those beings of great powers of illusion, and pierced with arrows the bodies of the roaring Rakshasas, those in the sky and those on the ground alike. He was drenched in the sanguine rain that sprang from the bodies of the Rakshasas with maces and clubs in their hands and flowed on every side; the bodies and hands of the Yakshas and Rakshasas were seen struck off by the weapons discharged by the might of his arms; and all creatures saw the graceful Pandava densely surrounded by the Rakshasas like the sun enveloped in clouds, and as the sun surrounds everything with his rays, that mighty-armed and strong one of unfailing prowess covered them all with arrows that destroyed his foes. Menacing and yelling, the Rakshasas did not once see Bhima embarrassed. With their bodies mangled and afflicted with fear of Bhimasena, the Yakshas began to utter frightful sounds of distress, throwing away their mighty weapons, and terrified of the wielder of the strong bow they fled toward the south, forsaking their maces and spears and swords and clubs and axes. Then there stood, holding darts and maces in his hands, the broad-chested and mighty-armed friend of Vaishravana, the Rakshasa named Maniman, and that one of great strength began to display his mastery and his manliness. Seeing them forsake the fight, he said to them with a smile: going to Vaishravana’s abode, how will you tell the lord of wealth that numbers have been defeated by a single mortal in battle? And taking clubs and javelins and maces in his hands he set out and rushed at the Pandava, in full career like a maddened elephant. Bhimasena pierced his sides with three choice arrows. Maniman in wrath took up and flourished a tremendous mace and hurled it at Bhimasena, and Bhimasena beset that mighty mace, dreadful and like a lightning flash, with innumerable shafts sharpened on stone as it came through the sky. But reaching the mace, the shafts were baffled; discharged with force by that adept at hurling the mace, they could not stay its career. Then Bhima of the dreadful prowess baffled the Rakshasa’s throw by resorting to his own skill in mace-fighting. In the meantime the intelligent Rakshasa discharged a terrible iron club furnished with a golden shaft, and that club, belching flames and roaring, all at once pierced Bhima’s right arm and fell to the ground. Severely wounded by that club, that bowman, Kunti’s son of the immeasurable prowess, with eyes rolling in anger, took up his mace, the iron mace inlaid with golden plates that brought fear and defeat to enemies, and darted it with speed toward the mighty Maniman, menacing him and shouting. Maniman for his part took his huge and blazing dart and discharged it at Bhima with great force, shouting; but breaking the dart with the end of his mace, that mighty-armed one skilled in mace-fighting rushed to kill him, as Garuda rushes to kill a serpent. Advancing ahead in the field, he sprang all at once into the sky and, brandishing his mace, hurled it with a shout, and like the thunderbolt hurled by Indra, that mace, like a pestilence, with the speed of the wind destroyed the Rakshasa and fell to the ground. All creatures saw that Rakshasa of terrible strength slain by Bhima like a bull killed by a lion, and the surviving Rakshasas, seeing him dead on the ground, went toward the east uttering frightful sounds of distress.

A key to reading this (a taunt): Draupadi’s speech is shaped as praise, and its last sentence is a goad; the epic says Bhima takes it “like a struck bull.” The burning of Khandava is the episode in which Arjuna fed the forest to Agni, held off Indra’s rain, and received Gandiva. Maniman is Kubera’s friend, and the meaning of his death is about to be revealed. This is Bhima’s second trespass, and Yudhishthira’s rebuke will come a second time too.

The gist: The wind from Garuda’s wings brings down flowers of five colors, and Draupadi tells Bhima she would like to see that summit under the protection of his arms. Bhima goes up a path one man wide, stands before Kubera’s golden city, and blows his conch. The Yakshas flee, Maniman stays, and in a duel of mace and club Kubera’s friend goes down.

Kubera on the Pushpaka: Agastya’s curse, an offense that was no offense, and greetings from Shantanu

Hearing sounds echoing in the caves of the mountain and not seeing Bhimasena, Kunti’s son Ajatashatru and the twin sons of Madri and Dhaumya and Krishna and all the Brahmins and friends were filled with anxiety. Entrusting Draupadi to Arshtishena and taking up their arms, those valiant and mighty chariot-warriors climbed together to the summit, and looking about them there, those repressers of foes and mighty bowmen saw Bhima, and those huge Rakshasas of mighty strength and courage, weltering unconscious where Bhima had struck them down. With mace and sword and bow in his hands, the mighty-armed one looked like Maghavan after he had slain the Danava hosts. The Pandavas embraced their brother and sat down there, and with those mighty bowmen the summit looked as grand as heaven graced by the highly fortunate Lokapalas, the foremost of celestials. And seeing the abode of Kubera and the Rakshasas lying slain on the ground, the king said to his seated brother: either through rashness or through ignorance, Bhima, you have committed a sinful act. Hero, as you are leading the life of an anchorite, this slaughter without cause is unlike you. Acts calculated to displease a monarch, those versed in duty assert, ought not to be committed, and you have committed one that will offend even the gods. He who disregards profit and duty and turns his thoughts to sin must reap the fruit of his sinful actions. But if you seek my good, never again commit such a deed. Having said this to his brother, the virtuous Vrikodara, Kunti’s son Yudhishthira of great energy and firm mind, versed in the particulars of the science of profit, fell silent and began to reflect.

The Rakshasas who had survived Bhima fled in a body to Kubera’s abode, and with exceeding fleetness they reached Vaishravana’s house and began to cry out in distress, afflicted by fear of Bhima. Bereft of their weapons, exhausted, with their mail smeared with gore and their hair disheveled, they said to Kubera: lord, all your foremost Rakshasas fighting with maces and clubs and swords and lances and barbed darts have been slain. Lord of treasures, a mortal trespassing on the mountain has single-handed slaughtered all your Krodhavasha Rakshasas assembled together. Lord of wealth, there lie the foremost of the Yakshas and Rakshasas senseless and dead, struck down, and we have been let off through his favor. And your friend Maniman also has been slain. All this has been done by a mortal. Do what is proper after this. The lord of all the Yaksha hosts waxed wroth, and with eyes reddened in anger exclaimed, what! And hearing of Bhima’s second act of aggression, the lord of treasures, king of the Yakshas, filled with wrath, said, yoke. To a chariot the hue of dark clouds and high as a mountain summit they yoked steeds in golden harness, excellent horses graced with every noble quality, furnished with the ten auspicious curls of hair, full of energy and strength, adorned with gems, looking splendid, eager to speed like the wind; and they neighed to one another the neighing of the hour of victory. That divine and effulgent king of the Yakshas set out, eulogized by the celestials and Gandharvas, and a thousand foremost Yakshas of reddened eyes and golden luster and huge bodies, gifted with great strength, equipped with weapons and girt with swords, followed that high-souled lord of treasures. Coursing through the sky, the steeds reached Gandhamadana as if drawing the sky forward with their fleetness. With their hair on end the Pandavas saw that great assemblage of horses kept by the lord of wealth, and the high-souled and graceful Kubera himself surrounded by the Yaksha hosts. And seeing those mighty chariot-warriors, the sons of Pandu of great strength, equipped with bows and swords, Kubera was delighted; he was pleased at heart, keeping in view the task of the celestials. Like birds, the Yakshas of extreme celerity alighted on the summit and stood before the Pandavas with the lord of treasures at their head, and seeing him pleased with the Pandavas, the Yakshas and Gandharvas stood there free of agitation. Thinking themselves transgressors, those high-souled and mighty chariot-warriors bowed to that lord, the giver of wealth, and stood around the lord of treasures with joined hands. And the lord of treasures sat on that excellent seat, the elegant Pushpaka constructed by Vishvakarma, painted in many colors, and thousands of Yakshas and Rakshasas, some of huge frame and some with ears like pegs, and hundreds of Gandharvas and hosts of Apsaras sat in the presence of the seated one as the celestials sit around him of the hundred sacrifices. Wearing a beautiful golden garland on his head and holding his noose and sword and bow in his hands, Bhima stood gazing at the lord of wealth, and Bhimasena did not feel depressed, either at having been wounded by the Rakshasas or, in that plight, at seeing Kubera arrive.

Seeing Bhima standing there wanting to fight with sharpened shafts, the one who goes about on the shoulders of men said to Dharma’s son: Partha, all creatures know you as engaged in their good. So dwell fearlessly with your brothers on this summit of the mountain. And, Pandava, do not be angry with Bhima. These Yakshas and Rakshasas had already been slain by destiny; your brother was merely the instrument. It is not necessary to feel shame for the act of impudence that has been committed. This destruction of the Rakshasas had been foreseen by the gods. I feel no anger toward Bhimasena. Rather, foremost of the Bharata race, I am pleased with him; even before coming here I had been gratified by this deed of his. Then Kubera said to Bhimasena: child, best of the Kurus, I do not mind this, Bhima, that to please Krishna you have, disregarding the gods and me too, committed this rash act, the destruction of the Yakshas and the Rakshasas, depending on the strength of your arms. I am well pleased with you. Vrikodara, today I have been freed from a terrible curse. For some offense the great sage Agastya cursed me in anger, and you have delivered me by this act of yours. Son of Pandu, my disgrace had been fated before this. So no offense in any way attaches to you. Yudhishthira said: divine one, why were you cursed by the high-souled Agastya? I am curious to hear the occasion of that imprecation. I wonder that at that very moment you, with your forces and attendants, were not consumed by the wrath of that intelligent one. The lord of treasures said: at Kushasthali, king, there was once held a conclave of the gods, and surrounded by grim-visaged Yakshas numbering three hundred mahapadmas, carrying weapons of every kind, I was going to that place. On the way I saw that foremost of sages, Agastya, engaged in severe austerities on the bank of the Yamuna, abounding in birds and graced with blossoming trees, and, king, the moment he saw that mass of energy, flaming and brilliant as fire, seated with upraised arms facing the sun, my friend, the graceful lord of the Rakshasas, Maniman, from stupidity and foolishness and hauteur and ignorance, discharged his excrement on the crown of that great sage. Then, as if burning all the cardinal points with his wrath, Agastya said to me: since, lord of treasures, in your very presence and disregarding me, this friend of yours has affronted me like this, he, together with your forces, shall meet with destruction at the hands of a mortal. And you, wicked-minded one, distressed on account of your fallen soldiers, shall be freed from your sin on beholding that mortal. But if they follow your behests, their powerful sons shall not incur this dreadful curse. That curse I received formerly from that foremost of sages. Now, mighty king, I have been delivered by your brother Bhima.

And then the lord of treasures gave Yudhishthira a king’s teaching, and it was aimed at Bhima. Yudhishthira, patience, ability, appropriate time and place, and prowess: these five lead to success in human affairs. Bharata, in the Krita age men were patient and able in their occupations and knew how to display prowess. Foremost of Kshatriyas, only a Kshatriya endowed with patience, who understands what is proper as to place and time and is versed in all mortal regulations, can govern the world for a long time, in every transaction. He who behaves so acquires fame in this world and an excellent state in the next; by displaying his prowess at the proper place and time, Shakra with the Vasus obtained the dominion of heaven. He who from anger cannot see his fall, who being naturally wicked and evil-minded follows evil, and who does not know what is proper in acts, meets with destruction in this world and the next. The exertions of that stupid person become fruitless who is not conversant with the expediency of time and acts, and he meets destruction in both worlds. And the object of that wicked and deceitful person is vicious who, aiming at mastery of every kind, commits some rash act. Best of men, Bhimasena is fearless, and ignorant of duties, and haughty, and of a child’s sense, and unforbearing. Check him, therefore. Going again to the hermitage of the pious sage Arshtishena, live there during the dark fortnight without fear or anxiety. Lord of men, deputed by me, all the Gandharvas who live at Alaka and those who live on this mountain will protect you, mighty-armed one, and these best of Brahmins. Chief among virtuous men, knowing that Vrikodara has come here out of rashness, check him. From now on, monarch, the beings who live in the forest will meet you and wait on you and always protect you all, and my servants will always procure for you various meats and drinks of delicious flavor. And, son, Yudhishthira, just as by reason of your being the progeny of spiritual intercourse Jishnu is entitled to the protection of Mahendra, and Vrikodara to the wind god’s, and you to Dharma’s, and the twins possessed of strength to the Ashvins’, so you are all entitled to my protection. That one next by birth to Bhimasena, Phalguna, versed in the science of profit and all mortal regulations, is well, in heaven. Child, those perfections recognized in the world as leading to heaven are established in Dhananjaya from his very birth: self-restraint and charity and strength and intelligence and modesty and fortitude and excellent energy, all these are established in that majestic one of magnificent soul. Pandava, Jishnu never committed a shameful act through poverty of spirit, and no one in the world says that Partha has uttered an untruth. Honored by the gods, the fathers, and the Gandharvas, that enhancer of the glory of the Kurus is learning the science of weapons in Shakra’s abode. And, Partha, in heaven that exceedingly powerful and highly energetic monarch who with justice brought all the rulers of the earth under his subjection, the grandsire of your father, Shantanu himself, is well pleased with the behavior of that wielder of Gandiva, the foremost of his race. And, king, abiding in Indra’s regions, he who on the banks of the Yamuna worshiped the gods, the fathers, and the Brahmins with seven grand horse sacrifices, your great-grandsire, the emperor Shantanu of severe austerities, who has attained heaven, has asked after your welfare. The Pandavas were well pleased with the words of the dispenser of wealth. Then, lowering his club and mace and sword and bow, that foremost of the Bharatas bowed down to Kubera, and that giver of protection, seeing him prostrate, said: be the destroyer of the pride of foes and the enhancer of the delight of friends. And, oppressors of enemies, live in our romantic region. The Yakshas will not cross your desires. Gudakesha, having acquired mastery over weapons, will come back soon. Bidden farewell by Maghavat himself, Dhananjaya will join you. Having thus instructed Yudhishthira of the excellent deeds, the lord of the Guhyakas vanished from that best of mountains, and thousands upon thousands of Yakshas and Rakshasas followed him in vehicles spread with checkered cushions and decorated with jewels, and as the horses went toward Kubera’s abode a noise arose like birds flying in the air, and the chargers of the lord of treasures coursed through the sky as if drawing the sky forward and devouring the air. Then, at the command of the lord of wealth, the bodies of the Rakshasas were removed from the summit. The intelligent Agastya had fixed this period as the limit of his curse, and so, being slain in conflict, the Rakshasas were freed from the imprecation. And honored by the Rakshasas, the Pandavas lived pleasantly in those habitations for several nights.

A key to reading this (names and numbers): The Pushpaka is the aerial chariot Vishvakarma built, which Ravana took from Kubera and which Rama returned to him after Lanka; Kubera arrives on it here. “Three hundred mahapadmas” of Yakshas is a picture of a boundless host rather than a count, a mahapadma being a one with twelve zeros. Alaka is Kubera’s city and the Guhyakas are his attendants. Shantanu is Bhishma’s father and the Pandavas’ great-grandfather; his greeting from heaven is the final gift of the whole climb. Kubera’s five principles, patience, ability, time, place, and prowess, are at once a rebuke to Bhima and a lesson in kingship to Yudhishthira.

The gist: Yudhishthira rebukes Bhima a second time, and then Kubera descends on the Pushpaka, pleased rather than angry. The secret is Agastya’s curse: Maniman had fouled the sage’s head, and the sentence was that he would die with his army at a mortal’s hands. Bhima was the mortal. Kubera teaches patience and timing, brings news of Arjuna, and passes on a greeting from Shantanu in heaven. The bodies are cleared, and the Pandavas live as Kubera’s guests. Arjuna’s return is now near.

Source: the Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Vana Parva, Tirthayatra sub-parva, Sections 103 to 161. The Gita Press Hindi edition is the controlling witness. Kisari Mohan Ganguli’s complete English translation was used to verify names, sequence, and principal events. Where recensions differ, this retelling follows Gita Press.