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
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
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