Dead demon in a living embryo?

Our folklorists not only reorder and retell the epic but invent new episodes in which epic characters are turned into folk heroes. Here is one such tale.

Following the killing of her brother Hidimbasura by Bhima, Hidimbi marries him. After spending five months in Hidimbasura’s forest, Pandavas are ready to move on. Since Hidimbi is pregnant, Dharma asks Bhima to stay back and take care of her. “To help you find us, we will throw gulganji seeds along the way. The tulasi sapling we have planted here will wither if we are in trouble, and dry up completely if we die.” With these words, Dharmaraya left Bhima and arrived in Sambrasura’s city along with mother Konthamma and brothers. They found shelter in a ruined building.

Sambrasura’s wife Somaladevi had been pregnant for 10 months but had not given birth yet. Hidimba’s life-breath, after being expelled from his body by Bhima, had lodged itself in Somaladevi’s womb and stopped her from giving birth. She kept howling with pain. Unable to see his wife suffer, Sambrasura asked his minister to suggest a way out.

“Pregnant women with unfulfilled cravings suffer pain without giving birth,” said the minister. Coming to the queen’s chamber with the minister, the king bade him ask the queen what she craves for. Hidimbasura’s life-breath, lodged in her womb, said, “Honourable minister, I do have unfulfilled cravings. I long to eat the flesh of Pandavas. If I do, my birth will be easy.”

The king was amazed to hear the unborn child speak these words from inside the womb. “The whole world knows the Pandavas were burnt to death in the house of lac. What do we do now?”

The wise minister said, “Since the queen and the unborn child do not know this, we can kill some homeless wretches and offer their flesh as the flesh of Pandavas.”

The king ordered his men to find some homeless paupers in the city. After scouring every street and alley, the king’s men saw Konthamma and her sons in the ruined building and asked them who they were. “We are beggars with nothing to eat and no friends or acquaintances in this place!” said the Pandavas.

“Ayya, our king has set up houses of charity where you can eat your fill and sleep in comfort.” Believing what the guards said to be the truth, Pandavas followed them. The guards fed them and locked them up in Kalikadevi temple. The king and ministers discussed the matter. “After we’ve offered these homeless wretches as a sacrifice to goddess Kali, let us chop them up, cook their flesh and send it over to the queen’s palace.”

While the king was saying this, elsewhere, Hidimbadevi went into labour and gave birth to a boy. Bhima was thrilled with the birth of a son. Since the boy was huge like a mountain and the size of an elephant, they decided to call him Ghatodgaja. One day, Bhima noticed the tulasi plant, planted by Dharma, wither. Disturbed by this, he told his wife, “My thoughts and dreams bode ill. The withering of the tulasi plant means my folks are in some danger. I must go to them at once.”

Following the track marked by the gulganji seeds, Bhimanna reached the main entrance to Sambrasura’s city. There were no gulganji seeds beyond the entrance. Scanning the city for his mother and brothers, Bhimanna ended up near the same Kalika temple and sat outside the temple. He had no idea the other five were inside, and they had no idea he was outside. Bhima heard the folks inside talking. “What a terrible situation we are in! Who is going to rescue us now, Arjuna?” “Would we be in this kind of trouble if Bhima were with us?” exclaimed Konthamma. Now Bhima knew his mother and brothers were inside. Knocking on the door he said, “Open the door, Mother. It is me, Rukodha”. He climbed onto the roof and having removed a stone slab, got into the temple through the gap.

The brothers exchanged news of their joys and sorrows. Bhimanna ground his teeth when he heard how Sambrasura had locked them up.

(The second part of this story will be published in June)

Translated by Laxmi Chandrashekar

The author, a retired professor of English, is a well-known theatre and television artiste and an award-winning translator.

Folktales from the Mahabharata is a monthly column that features lesser-known episodes from ‘Janapada Mahabharata’ sung by eminent folk-artiste Bettada Beedu Siddhashetty; it was collected, edited, and published by Dr P K Rajashekara.