Dear Readers,

The Mahabharata can be equated to a winding road that leads you on, from one avenue to another. And each turn has something new to be discovered; sometimes a wonderful surprise, the other times a life lesson. Nonetheless, it is a journey that’s more fulfilling than the final destination. And on this road, we had reached the point where Bhima, with his Pandava brothers and his mother Kunti, decides to continue traveling and living anonymously. He christens his son Ghatotkach and instructs him to rule over the Rakshasa community under the care of Hidimba.

So, from the heights of the Himalayas, the Pandavas started walking towards the plains of the Ganges. Traveling through dense forests and rough terrains, the brothers with their mother reached the city of Ekachakra.

Ekachakra was part of the kingdom of southern Panchala. King Drupada ruled on this part of the kingdom of Panchala, having relinquished the northern part to Drona and his son Ashwatthama.

When the Pandavas reached Ekachakra, the kingdom of Panchala was preparing for the swayamvara of Princess Draupadi. The event was to take place in some months. The city was bustling with work, hence there was a prospect of good earnings and alms for the brothers. Kunti and the Pandavas decided to stay in the city for the time being. Since all the inns were occupied, they asked an old potter for shelter. The potter and his family welcomed the good natured brothers and their mother in their home. It was decided that the brothers will help the old potter in his work in lieu of food and shelter.

With such a system in place, life was going good for the Pandava family. A month passed by. As the next month began, the potter and his family suddenly became quiet. They always had a grave expression on their face, as if dealing with a personal grief. The Pandava family noticed this change and wanted to find out the reason behind this sudden pall of sadness. One night, after dinner, Kunti went to speak to the potter’s wife. She asked, “Sister, what is it? You all seem to be dealing with some grief. Please tell me what happened.”

The potter’s wife smiled and said, “It is nothing, sister. We are all fine. It’s just the stress of work. There are several pots and utensils to be made before the Swayamvara begins. That is all that is stressing us out.”

Saying so, she avoided the topic. Kunti knew there was something that bugged the potter family but they were not sharing it with them because the Pandavas were their guests. But she wanted to find out the real reason so she could help them. So, she decided to overhear the conversation between potter and his wife.

“What did the old mother ask you?” The potter questioned his wife.

“She wanted to know the cause of our worries. I didn’t tell her anything.”

“Good that you didn’t tell her. They are our guests. This is a problem we have to deal with, they need not be dragged in this.”

“I understand, but how, in god’s name, are we going to solve this problem? Who amongst us will go to Bakasura?”

“I will go. You take care of the children and the house.”

“No. I cannot live without you. I should be the one to go. You are the breadwinner of the family. After me, you can bring up the children in a better way.”

Kunti was shocked to hear them talking in this way. It felt like one of them had to choose to die. She couldn’t control her curiosity and barged into the room,

“I am sorry for intruding upon you like this, but I want to know what are you two talking about? Why are you so worried and why does it seem like one of you is going to die?”

“Sister, this is a tragedy that was going to befall on our family sooner or later. But you and your sons need not be a part of this. You are our guests.”

“For the last one month, all of you have treated us as your family. When we have enjoyed good times together, we want an in on the tragedies too. Please tell me what is it?”

The potter and his family went quiet. After some time, the potter spoke, “It’s Bakasura. He’s an asura who lives in the forest on the outskirts of the city. He arrived here about a year ago and created a furore in the city. Whenever he was hungry, he came to city and foraged on the people. Our pleadings never reached the court of the king or went unheard. So, the people of the city came together and made an offer to Bakasura. Every month, one family will send a bullock cart filled with food along with a family member to the forest for Baka to eat. In exchange the asura will stop his excursions to the city. Bakasura agreed to this. For a year, this has been the system in place. And now, it is our family’s turn to send someone.”

Saying so, the potter broke into tears. Kunti was also overcome with sadness. She felt guilty for not having realized the situation their hosts were in sooner.

“I don’t know what to do, whom to send,” the potter said between the sobs.

Kunti didn’t like this helplessness. The queen in her despised to see her subjects in such a state.

“You need not grieve,” she comforted the potter and his family, “there’s a simple solution to this problem.”

The potter and his family all looked at Kunti with amazement in their eyes.

“Yes. You need not worry. You have one son, I have five. My son Bhima will take the food to Bakasura this month.”

“No no, sister, this cannot be the solution to this problem. We cannot ask you to sacrifice one of your sons for our sake.” The potter disagreed vehemently.

“Do not worry, brother. Nobody will be sacrificed. You don’t know my son. He will deal with Bakasura and return safely. Rest assured, Bhima will solve this problem, once and for all.”

Thus reassuring the potter and his family, Kunti returned to her quarters. There, she told all about Bakasura and his torments to her sons. Bhima readily agreed to take on the challenge. He was happy that he’ll get to flex his warrior skills a little bit.

A month after, the potter’s family and Kunti loaded a bullock cart with all kinds of tasty dishes and sweetmeats. And Bhima took the driver’s seat. Bidding goodbye to everyone and with a promise to see them all soon, he drove towards the forest.

Bhima drove slowly, enjoying the drive, and without any haste. He took his own sweet time to reach the asura’s lair. A famished Bakasura was waiting outside his lair.

Towering over the tallest trees, his form was colossal. He had limbs like gnarled tree trunks and a chest as broad as a mountain ridge. His skin was the color of storm clouds, etched with scars from ancient battles, and his fiery red eyes burned like twin suns, casting a menacing glow over the land. His hair was a wild, flowing mane, black as the night and matted with blood. He wore a tattered cloak of tiger hides and serpent skins and carried a spiked mace so massive that it could shatter fortresses with a single swing.

When he saw Bhima, Bakasura gave a low growl.

“You’re late, human.”

His voice was a deep guttural growl, that might have sent a shivers down the spine of any human being. But Bhima was no normal human. He ignored Bakasura. Instead, he got down from the cart, opened the nearest packet of food, and started eating.

Bakasura’s anger peaked. He was extremely hungry, on top of it this human was being arrogant. Bak roared with anger and threw his mace right next to Bhima. Bhima lightly jumped and got out of the way. Then, he turned towards Bak,

“What are you doing? I could have got hurt.”

“That is my food you are eating, human.” Bak roared.

“Really? I didn’t see a name on it. And anyway, laddoos are my favorite. Couldn’t resist.” Bhima chided.

“Don’t test my patience. You are already late. Bring that food to me. Now!”

“I don’t think so. I’m eating right now.” Saying so, Bhima transferred his attention back to the food.

Bakasura’s eyes turned into flaming fires. He picked his mace and tried crashing it on Bhima. To his surprise, his blow was caught midair. As much as he tried moving, Bakasura couldn’t move his mace; such was Bhima’s iron grip. Now giving his complete attention to the asura, Bhima pushed his mace back.

The earth trembled as Bhima faced the fearsome Bakasura in a battle of raw strength and fury. The towering asura roared, swinging his massive mace with devastating force, shattering trees and rocks alike. Bhima, unyielding and mighty, met each attack with unparalleled strength, his bare hands striking like thunderbolts. The clash echoed across the forest, a whirlwind of dust and chaos as the two titans grappled. Summoning his unmatched power, Bhima lifted Bakasura off the ground, hurling him with such force that the earth cracked beneath the impact. With one final, bone-crushing blow, Bhima subdued the monstrous Asura, emerging victorious.

Thus finishing another monster, the warrior returned to Ekachakra. The potter’s family and the people of Ekachakra were stunned to see him return unscathed. The whole city was overjoyed when Bhima told them about the death of Bakasura. They were filled with gratitude and love for the young prince and hailed him their savior. That night, all the families of Ekachakra sent sweetmeats and delicious dishes for Bhima and his family. After ages, the Pandavas had a feast that they generously shared with the potter and his family.

This is one of those tales which we might have heard from our grandparents or in a moral science class because it essentially highlights the win of goodness over evil. But there are more layers to it. Communal harmony, for instance, is something that story underlines. A city coming together and finding a solution to a problem their administrators couldn’t help them with. The people of Ekachakra truly understand the meaning of ‘sacrifice’ which is done for the greater good of the community. Such communal harmony is difficult to come by today where we hardly want to get to know our neighbor, let alone make a sacrifice for the community. This is something that we can definitely think of adopting.

Another thing that the story underlines is the attitude of the administration. How come the king and his army never got to know of such a trouble at their doorstep? And if they did, why were their not enough steps taken for ensuring the safety of their citizens? This is the kind of corrupt regime that was in place throughout the sub-continent at that time, and what Krishna was advocating against. Not that much has changed throughout the centuries. All across the world, their are corrupt and power hungry governments in place. Systems that place their citizens’ safety and well-being at the bottom of their priority list. The sad part is that we don’t get to have a savior like Bhima who might rid us of these ‘asuras’. What are your thoughts about this story? I’d love to know what you think in the comments below.