Learn to Let Go, Bhima

Check the theme here: Pandava Mahaprasthana

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Bhima followed Yudhistira while the others followed him. After two years in Gaya, they decided it was time to move again. The plan was to settle somewhere on the outskirts of the Anga kingdom. Each of them carried a short load to distribute the weight. Bhima carried his and Draupadi’s, though she insisted she could do it herself.

When they stopped to rest for a while, Draupadi wanted to take back her pack.

“Let me, Maharani! You know I can even carry you.” He replied.

She smacked his arm with a playful smile. “Yes, yes, my wrestler. You can. But why should you? Haven’t you borne our weight all your life?”

“I like it!” He protested, and it was the truth. He loved being the one who could always be there for his family.

“He does! Bhima used to carry me and Nakula and jump on the rocks.” Sahadeva said, poking a finger at his still-hard muscles.

“Do you want me to do that now?” Bhima replied with a laugh.

Sahadeva shuddered. “Our bones will not heal well if we break them now.”

“I never dropped you! Not once did I ever drop the weight I carried!”

Draupadi exchanged a glance with Sahadeva and leaned into Bhima’s shoulder. “Maybe you should. Isn’t it time to let go of the past weight?”

Sahadeva took Bhima’s fist and pried the fingers open. “Elder brother, if you hold the sand of the past pain in this fist, how will you use it to love your family? We know how much Duryodhana and his father’s actions have hurt us. We felt the same, but you felt a lot more because you have such a tender heart! They are all dead now. In a few years, we will be too. Why let it bother us anymore?”

“Have you both done the same?” He said.

Draupadi shook her head. “We are trying to. Every time we think of the past, we try to let go of the bitterness and focus on the kinder and lighter moments. For every pain we faced, we had the love and support of people who believed in us. It’s our loved ones who should take space in our hearts… don’t you agree?”

Bhima said nothing for a while. Then he nodded, wrapping an arm around Draupadi and Sahadeva. He would try.

***

Bhima loved two… no, three things the most—his parents, his brothers, and food. They played in the open fields and rocky slopes, not caring about cuts, bruises, or bumps. When Kunti declared they would head to Hastinapura, their rightful royal home, Bhima was hopeful of making new friends and expanding his family of brothers. After all, his uncle had over a hundred children!

However, their arrival in the city gave them mixed feelings. While Bhishma Pitamaha and Uncle Vidura looked pleased, the cousins and their father, Dhritarashtra, didn’t sound too happy. Bhima didn’t mind. Not everyone was as friendly as him! However, he saw a well-built Duryodhana born on the same day as him and hoped they could become close friends. Both loved to wrestle and eat good food. Sure, Duryodhana loved luxury more, but he was still conscious about his physique.

It didn’t take more than a few weeks for Bhima to realize his dreams wouldn’t come true. The atmosphere was tense whenever they tried to interact with the Kaurava cousins. Duryodhana and Dushasana often bullied them with snarky words about their ‘poor’ lifestyle.

“Well, you wouldn’t be enjoying luxuries as much if my father didn’t renounce the throne and place yours on it.” Bhima snapped one day.

“He is not your father. You were born to other men,” Duryodhana retorted.

“Isn’t it the same for your father, too? We aren’t as different as you wish to believe,” Nakula added, supporting Bhima.

Duryodhana stomped off to sulk.

A day later, Dushasana jumped on Bhima from behind when he was walking toward the riverbank. Bhima flipped him to the ground in a smooth move. A couple of more direct attacks later, his Kaurava cousins and their Uncle Shakuni realized they couldn’t face him head-on.

The first sneaky attack was poisoning, targeted only at Bhima. Duryodhana invited them to his play palace, as he called it. Bhima’s mouth watered at the delicious dishes served to him. Unbeknownst to him, the food was laced with Kaalakuta, a deadly poison!

Bhima felt drowsy and nodded off to sleep under a tree. The next thing he knew, he was being bitten by baby snakes crawling all over his body.

“Uff! What is this?” He exclaimed in astonishment upon realizing he was underwater.

“Who are you, young man?” An old voice called out from a distance with a distinctive hiss.

Bhima stood, dispersing the snakes over him. “I am Bhima, the son of Kunti.”

“O Kunti Putra!” Another voice gasped. “My great-grandson!”

Some old Nagas slithered toward him. Two of them introduced themselves as Vasuki and Aryaka.

The Naga, called Aryaka, took Bhima’s pulse and nodded, confirming his theory. “You were poisoned, child. It’s Rudra’s grace that you survived. The venom released into your body by these baby snakes woke you up from your deep sleep.”

Bhima explained what had happened. The thoughtful old Naga came up with a solution. “Child, we can’t protect you much from here, but we can prevent such attacks from harming you.”

They handed him a tumbler of smoky and blue liquid. “Drink this. It’s a blend of powerful poisons in the world. Once it settles in your body, no poison will ever affect you.”

Bhima lost consciousness the moment he consumed the last drop. It tasted nasty, but he didn’t mind. Though he met the Nagas for the first time, he trusted them.

He woke up on the eighth day and found himself on a silky bed with young Naga boys fanning him on both sides. They grinned when he opened his eyes.

“Are you feeling good, prince?”

He nodded, stretching his arms.

The old Nagas appeared again. Aryaka took his pulse once more and smiled. “It’s done. Your body accepted the poison as its own. They could feed you the poison to kill a thousand elephants, and it wouldn’t even make you dizzy. Go back home, child. Your mother and brothers are worried.”

Bhima took their blessings and returned to Hastinapura. He shared the events with none except his family. They were angry. Arjuna and the twins wanted to teach Duryodhana a lesson. However, their mother stopped him.

“My dears, this is our new life. With your father dead, they will treat us with hate and disdain. We should be alert and protect each other. If we confront them, they could exile us forever. If we stay silent and live here, you can fulfill your father’s dream. Let’s be patient.”

They had been patient when Duryodhana, Duhshsana, Karna, and Shakuni, with Dhritarashtra’s blessings, tried to burn them alive in Varnavata. If it weren’t for Uncle Vidura’s help, they wouldn’t have escaped.

When Dhritarashtra invited them to Hastinapura after marrying Draupadi, he gifted them a barren Kandavaprastha to rule.

“This! And that greedy Duryodhana gets Hastinapura? I’ll kill them!” Bhima roared.

Yudhistira tried to calm him, but it was Krishna who succeeded.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of hard work, Bhima! Show them what the Pandava brothers can do.” Krishna said.

Bhima flexed his arms and accepted the challenge. With Krishna and Draupadi working day and night on the designs and logistics, he and his four brothers got to work. Manual labor was something they enjoyed. They built Indraprastha from nothing, only for Yudhistira to lose it to Duryodhana. Bhima suffered the loss with a shrug. They could rebuild a new city. However, seeing Dushasana drag Draupadi to the sabha by her hair was worse than all they had faced so far.

“Dushasana! I will tear apart your arm and drink your blood! I will break Duryodhana’s thigh and kick his head for what you’ve done to Maharani.” Bhima yelled in the Kuru sabha. “Remember my vow when you see your death!”

Bhima was a man who kept his word. Not for a moment did he feel a flicker of hesitation when he wrenched Duhshasana’s arm from his body and beat him to a pulp with it. Standing on the battlefield with terrified soldiers around him, Bhima tore open Duhshasana’s chest with his bare hands and grabbed two palms full of his warm blood. He fulfilled half his vow that day.

On the evening of the eighteenth day, Bhima understood Arjuna’s signal and hurled his mace at Duryodhana’s thigh. Who cared about what others said? Where were they when Duryodhana and his father insulted the Pandavas? Those who didn’t stand by them at their worst didn’t have the right to judge them.

Bhima kicked Duryodhana’s head twice, thrice, and more in a frenzy, until Krishna placed his hand on his arm. “Enough, Bhima. Calm down now.”

In the next two days, Krishna saved him twice. Once from that unscrupulous Ashwatthama and then from Dhritarashtra, who showed his true face yet again. The old king wanted to crush Bhima for killing his son, and instead crushed the iron statue Duryodhana had made for his practice.

Yudhistira, with his talks of dharma and unwanted guilt, was more than ready to serve Dhritarashtra. Bhima couldn’t make himself do the same. There wasn’t a single moment in his life when the blind king embraced them with genuine affection. Why did they have to forget everything?

Even when the news of their deaths reached them, Bhima cried only for their mother. He was glad that Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, both of whom were deliberately blind to their sons’ faults, had at last left the earth.

***

Bhima took a deep breath and released it with a huff. They were all dead. Hating them didn’t make him happy. He didn’t have to hold the sand in his fist.

“You will not take up any more space in my life. It’s meant only for my loved ones.” He murmured, looking at the sky.

He turned back to look at Sahadeva and Draupadi and showed them his open hand with a smile.

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