Stories

They explained that human life carried several obligations. Sacrifice, sacred study and the continuation of one’s lineage were all regarded as important duties, and while Mandapala had performed austerities and religious observances, he had left no children behind. His lack of offspring therefore stood between him and the complete reward he had expected.

Hidden inside a mountain cavern lay a gigantic serpent, immense as a hill and terrible to behold. When Bhima came near, the creature suddenly wrapped its enormous coils around him. Bhima struggled with all his power, but something inexplicable happened. The strength upon which he had relied throughout his life simply disappeared.

The meeting would become a lesson in humility for the mightiest of the Pandavas. Bhima possessed enormous physical strength and had defeated warriors, rakshasas and wild beasts that few men could face. Yet on a lonely mountain path, all that strength would prove useless against the tail of an old monkey. Only when Bhima abandoned pride and approached the stranger with respect would he discover that the monkey before him was Hanuman, the immortal servant of Sri Rama and, through the wind-god Vayu, his own elder brother.

Four of the Pandavas lay motionless beside a beautiful forest lake. No arrows had struck them and no warrior had defeated them. Yudhishthira stood alone before the still water as a mysterious crane claimed dominion over the lake. What followed was not a contest of weapons but one of wisdom, restraint and Dharma, culminating in one of the most celebrated conversations of the Mahabharata.

The twelve years of forest exile were nearing their conclusion when a Brahmin hurried towards the Pandavas with an unusual problem. He explained that the wooden implements used to kindle his sacred fire had been hanging near a tree when a deer came rubbing its antlers against the trunk.

Earlier that day, the hunter had caught a female pigeon and placed her inside a cage. To him, it was an ordinary event. He had captured countless birds before and rarely thought about the fear of the creatures struggling behind the bars. The pigeon was simply another prize from the forest. Yet before the day was over, this apparently insignificant bird and her mate would change the hunter’s life completely.

The frightened dove flew directly towards King Shibi and dropped into his lap, trembling for its life. In that instant, the king was confronted with a question far greater than the fate of a single bird. A helpless creature had sought his protection, yet the predator pursuing it was also acting according to the laws of nature.

Vaivasvata Manu, the son of Vivasvan, was renowned for his austerity and righteousness. He had withdrawn himself from ordinary pleasures and devoted his mind to severe penance. His life was governed by discipline, restraint and contemplation, and he possessed the calm that comes from years spent mastering one’s senses.

When Damayanti awoke and discovered that Nala was gone, disbelief quickly gave way to anguish. She called his name again and again, expecting that he might be nearby or that he would answer from beyond the trees. No reply came. As she searched the ground, she realised that the cloth they had shared had been cut in two. One half remained with her, while Nala had taken the other. The meaning was unmistakable. He had left her alone in the wilderness.

The episode forms part of the Nalopakhyana, the celebrated story of Nala and Damayanti narrated in the Vana Parva of the Mahabharata. What appears at first to be a frightening encounter with a serpent becomes one of the story’s most remarkable examples of misfortune concealing divine purpose.