Epic Retold: The Mahabharata in Tweets (14 page)

Some of the elders quickly vanish into the trees. By now Nakula and Sahadeva have arrived by my side. We wait, unsure what to expect.

The tribals return with branches and vines. With remarkable skill they begin to fashion a cot, weaving a snug base from the creepers.

‘Come,’ the boy says, when it is finished. ‘My men will carry the woman who is tired.’

He walks ahead, setting a blistering pace. Four men carrying the cot are behind. We follow, marvelling at their agility over steep terrain.

Though she had protested initially, Draupadi seems to be enjoying her ride in the makeshift palanquin. She looks at me, smiles.

‘There is a big storm coming,’ the boy says, dropping back to talk to me. ‘We must get to the top before it breaks.’

Pointing to Yudhistira, who is struggling to keep up, he asks, ‘Does the weak man need help?’

He barks an order. Two of his men relieve Yudhistira of his weapons. Then, standing on either side, they begin to hustle him uphill.

I smile seeing Yudhistira’s unhappy face. The days of cross-legged debates by holy fires seem to be of little use now!

The climb begins to ease after a long walk. Trees thin. Without warning, we emerge into a clearing. We have reached the top.

The foresters set the palanquin down. Stepping off, Draupadi smiles at them gratefully.

‘That way is the hermitage,’ the boy says, pointing. ‘You will not miss it.’

Smoke rises from a cluster of huts in the distance. Flowering trees surround it. Beyond, I see mountains capped by snow.

The boy turns to follow his companions who are already making their way down. Yudhistira calls for them to stop.

‘I am Yudhistira, king of Indraprastha,’ he says, with some pomp. ‘You have helped us immensely, though I have nothing to gift you now.’

The boy smiles. ‘You must visit us one day in our kingdom,’ Yudhistira continues. ‘Your efforts will not go unrewarded. I promise.’

‘We do not seek a reward, king,’ the boy responds. Then, turning to where I stand, he bows in obeisance.

‘I am Ghatotkacha. Your son.’

He bends to touch my feet. As I stand there, too stunned even to raise my hand in blessing, he quickly makes his way downhill.

THE BLUE LOTUS

EPISODE 19

TWEETS 56

Arjuna does not arrive that month.

Gandhamadana suits Yudhistira the best. Surrounded by sages and pilgrims who hang on to his every word, he is in his element again.

Even if Arjuna had not asked us to wait for him on this mountaintop, Yudhistira would only have been happy to camp here indefinitely.

The storm that Ghatotkacha’s unexpected appearance had unleashed in my mind begins to calm as weeks pass by.

In a way, the tranquillity of Gandhamadana is just what I needed.

I keep myself busy. Rising at dawn, I swim in the ice-cold waters of the Bhagirati river before making my way downhill into the forest.

I hunt small game. A darting rabbit is an excellent way to maintain my marksmanship with the bow. Better than any target practice.

But mostly I hunt without weapons to maintain my speed and suppleness, the way Hidimbi taught me.

It is only in the evenings that I see Draupadi, when she presides over the one meal we all have together.

In the night, she is Yudhistira’s. As per my elder brother’s calculation, it is his turn now.

Yudhistira has retired to the hut he shares with Draupadi when she approaches me one night. I notice wild flowers in her hair.

‘I hear of Bhima training by himself, all day,’ she says. ‘Those who walk in the forests say he has become as good an archer as Arjuna!’

I mumble something to that pleasantry. Draupadi is silent for a while, staring at the silver of the Bhagirati as it tumbles downhill.

‘Have you come across this before?’ she asks finally, holding out a blue flower, a small lotus. I take it from her, inhaling its captivating fragrance.

‘It is the divine Saugandhika,’ Draupadi says. ‘Even the gods use it for their ceremonies. Its scent lasts forever!’

I have seen it before. A long time ago, Hidimbi had shown me some petals, saying something similar about their fragrance.

‘The hermits tell me this is from a lake in the forest. If we could get some—’

I sigh. But I have nothing better to do. ‘Tomorrow I will look for it,’ I tell Draupadi.

When I start out in the morning, I expect to find the lake without trouble. But by noon I begin to realize it is inaccessible.

I have glimpsed its blue expanse in the distance. But every time I approach it, I find my path blocked by trees and dense undergrowth.

After hours of walking, I climb a hilltop. The fragrance of Saughandhika, which has followed me throughout, is overpowering now.

The lake is close, laid out across a vast clearing, fed by a mountain stream. I notice hundreds—thousands—of blue lotuses on it.

On one side is a marble pavilion. I also see several wooden structures ringing the lake, most likely guardhouses.

Fixing the direction in my mind, I begin to descend. The lake disappears from sight even before I am halfway down.

Dense undergrowth mars my progress downhill. It takes some stubborn persistence before I pick out a narrow trail overhung by thorny shrubs.

Pushing aside intruding branches with my mace, I clear my path. No one seems to have come this way in recent times.

After a long while, I turn a corner and find my path blocked.

Across the trail, with its head on a fallen tree, lies a langur. It is larger than any I have seen before.

From the dull gray of its coat, I see it is past its prime. It doesn’t stir at my footfall. Nor when I prod it with the tip of my mace.

As I hesitate, deliberating whether to step over the monkey, I hear the rustle of dry leaves behind me. Swiftly, I turn around.

It is Ghatotkacha. Where did he come from?

He touches my feet. Then, stepping back, he says, ‘You are a long way from the hermitage, Father.’

I tell him of my search. Surely, the lake cannot be far? ‘I wouldn’t have stopped,’ I say, ‘but this monkey waylaid me!’

Ghatotkacha laughs. ‘The rogue! He must have raided our liquor pots again!’

He picks up the langur and carries it to a small clearing ahead. Gently he sets it down. The creature does not wake up.

Ghatotkacha tells me, smiling, ‘We call him Hanuman.’

Leaving the monkey behind, Ghatotkacha sets off. He seems to know the trail well. Even where the path disappears, he does not hesitate.

He tells me the lake belongs to Kubera. I have heard of Kubera, king of the Yaksha clan. He is rumoured to be enormously wealthy.

I learn Ghatotkacha’s tribe has some dealings with Kubera’s guards: the king regularly buys ivory and forest produce from them.

‘No one is allowed into the lake,’ Ghatotkacha says. ‘The guards are always around.’

‘How many?’ I ask.

‘Too many,’ Ghatotkacha says. ‘But if it is only the flowers you want, there is an easier way.’

Seeing my questioning look, Ghatotkacha tells me of another place. A small pond downhill from the lake, fed by the same water source.

‘Plenty of flowers there,’ he says. ‘No guards.’ I shrug. That seems wiser than seeking out a confrontation with my son’s consociates.

Ghatotkacha leaves the trail, heading into the trees. Though there is little light filtering through, he leads the way confidently.

Soon, the trees begin to thin. The scent of Saugandhika, which had begun to fade when we left the trail, is once again powerful.

We emerge into a clearing. Laid out before me is an oval pond of breathtaking beauty, its surface a carpet of blue lotuses.

As we approach the water, I cannot but help think of another time, another forest.

Everything of this place reminds me of where I first met Hidimbi. Except for the Saughandhika, everything is the same.

Stripping, I dive into the cold, revelling in the numbing agony that swallows me whole. I swim among the blue lotuses for a long time.

By the time I climb out, Ghatotkacha has conjured up a meal. Wild figs, berries the size of a man’s fist, a bamboo shoot full of honey.

‘I must go now,’ Ghatotkacha says as I wash down the meal. ‘My people are waiting.’

Instructing me on how to get back to the trail, he kneels to seek my blessing. I raise him by the shoulders and embrace him.

He says, ‘Send word when you need me, Father.’

‘Wait.’ Walking over to the edge of the pond, I pluck a blue lotus. ‘Tell Hidimbi I asked about her,’ I say, offering it to my son.

Ghatotkacha smiles. Without a word, he vanishes into the trees, leaving me clutching an empty gesture.

JATA

EPISODE 20

TWEETS 47

I hear the shouts and screams as I return from a hunt. Throwing down the carcass of the deer I had tracked for days, I run to the camp.

By our huts, I see my brothers fighting a forester. He has Draupadi slung over one shoulder and is attempting to make away with her.

Both Nakula and Sahadeva have been flung aside. As I watch, Yudhistira makes a run for him and is sent staggering back with a kick.

‘Give me a weapon, you coward!’ Yudhistira shouts from where he fell. ‘Fight me like a man for this woman. Where is your honour?’

Yudhistira! But for the occasion, I would have laughed out loud.

When I burst through the group of watching pilgrims, all screaming but offering no other help, the forester realizes his match has come.

He puts Draupadi down. With a cry of relief, she runs back to the edge, to the shelter of the clustered onlookers.

Licking his thick lips and grunting, the forester advances fearlessly. He is my match in height and build. A worthy opponent, at last!

I throw down my spear. This has to be done by hand.

Spreading his long arms, the forester rushes me. I sidestep. From his wild attack, I can see he is untrained in personal combat.

But he catches himself fast. This is no Jarasandha slowed by age, no Baka aged by gluttony.

I endure a blow to test his strength. He swings again. When it lands high on my ribs with a resounding thud, I hear Draupadi gasp.