Hyder Ali Khan, the de facto ruler of Mysore disguised himself in an ordinary attire and rode on his horse as if conversing with the winds. He loved to ride alone without the military force to spend some time alone. His soldiers tried to catch up with him. His popularity as an able military commander-in-chief was gaining momentum as he was on a conquering spree to expand the boundaries of his empire. He stopped at the sight of the Chitradurga fort; a pink, rocky fort located over the hills. He was always mesmerized by its towering thick walls. They challenged him. As if telling him, “See if you can win over me?” Madakari Nayaka IV ruled Chitradurga then. Hyder Ali’s numerous proposals of collaborations were politely rejected by him. Hyder Ali was awestruck by the fort’s beauty and strength. While he was romanticizing on invading Chitradurga, he was distracted by a female figure. A young woman, who seemed to be in a hurry. His gaze followed her. Before he could get a glimpse of her face, the woman bent and disappeared. Unable to spot her from the distance, he summoned one of his soldiers and ordered him to go check how a woman had vanished into thin air. The soldier returned in a few minutes and huffed,
“Maharaja! There is a kindi, a hole in the wall. It leads inside the fort. She must have gone there.”
This information sprung a plan in Hyder Ali’s mind. He ordered the soldier to spy and collect all the information of the kindi. The soldier returned to the court in a few days.
“Maharaja, it seems the kindi is unknown to everyone. It’s rarely used. No one is ever spotted using it. Just one guard named Khale Mudda watches over it. During noon, he is away for lunch and the kindi is left unguarded.”
The information supported Hyder Ali’s plan. He ordered his military head to invade Chitradurga with 100 soldiers. He ordered them to sneak in through the kindi and attack Madakari Nayaka. This will make it an easy win without much bloodshed. Confident of the plan the army chief set out for its execution. The kindi was a very small opening. Only one man could barely crawl through it in dark. Adopting the stealth mode, they hid in the nearby bushes and waited for the guard to leave for lunch.
Standing below the watchtower near the kindi’s opening inside the fort, yelled Obavva, Khale Mudda’s wife,
“Don’t you see the sun is high up? The food is getting cold. Come and eat! Rest is also important.”
Aware of his wife’s short temperedness, Khale Mudda ran a vigilant eye, and walked home that was located nearby. He washed himself and sat before the plate to eat.
How Obavva fought Hyder-Ali’s army single-handedly ?
“Did you run your finger in the curry today? This is so pungent!”
He teased Obavva, gulping the entire glass of water. Rolling her eye on the comment, Obavva sprung up to refill his glass. To her surprise, the pot was empty with just a little water left. She poured the remaining and rushed to fetch more from the nearby pond uphill. She had just walked a few feet from home, when she noticed fingers clutching on the ground at the kindi. Someone was climbing out from it. Presuming it to be some spy, she rushed and picked up the wooden pestle lying outside her hut and hid by sticking to the wall. To her horror, she saw a black turban that was worn by Mughals. Without a thought, she tightened her grip around the onake (pestle) circled it around her head to gain momentum, kicked away his turban and with one powerful shot smashed the soldier’s head. Blood splashed all over her face. Shocked at her own action, she reached for her pallu to wipe the blood. Just then she heard more noises. There were more, she swiftly dragged the dead body behind her to clear the kindi’s passage. Presuming the entrance was safe another soldier emerged clutching the ground to climb up. Obavva repeated the whack and smashed his head like a cockroach. The soldiers kept coming, she kept smashing them with the pestle and dragging them away from the entrance view. Some kind of supernatural power seemed to have entered this ordinary woman. She continued to do so, as a heap of dead bodies piled behind her. Having waited for half an hour, Khale Mudda came looking for her. When he saw Obavva holding a blood dripping pestle and a pool of dead bodies behind her, he froze with fear.
“Blow the trumpet! We are under attack!” commanded Obavva dragging the dead body. Khale Mudda kept blowing the emergency trumpet loud. The siren alerted their army and made the enemies retreat. Just then a soldier entered unannounced with a dagger and stabbed Obavva, who was by now losing consciousness out of fatigue, dripping in perspiration and blood. She collapsed and died on the spot, fighting single-handed with the army of Hyder Ali.
That day the Fort of Chitradurga was saved from falling in the hands of the invaders. Although Madakari Nayaka was defeated in 1779, the city of Chitradurga pays its tribute to this braveheart ordinary woman of the Beda community and revers her for her outstanding bravery and patriotism.
‘Vinayak Chaturthi’ or ‘Ganesh Chaturthi’ is celebrated on the fourth phase of the moon in the Bhadrapada month of the Hindu calendar. It marks the birth of God Ganesha, the younger of the two sons of Shiva and Parvati.
THE STORY OF GANESHA’S BIRTH
There is an interesting tale behind the birth of Ganesha. It’s a story of faith, of dutifulness. Once Mata Parvati wanted to bathe in a water body inside a cave, but the mouth of the cave was unguarded so she needed someone, someone her own, reliable to watch over the opening. To do so she collected some clay from the cave and moulded a sculptor of a boy. She then placed both her palms on it and with complete faith uttered words in its ears. Words, filled with feelings of belief and faith.
“You are my son! I have created you with my will and I give you my acceptance as a son. Please guard this entrance of the cave. Do not allow one to enter.”
Saying so, she went inside. Her words of belief and faith personified the sculptor and it turned into a son. Lord Shiva who was away at Mount Kailash meditating arrived at the cave to meet his wife Mata Parvati. He didn’t notice the tiny sculpted boy and stepped forward to enter the cave. The boy stopped him,
“Stop! You are not allowed to go inside. My mother is bathing and has asked not to permit anyone’s entry. So stay right where you are!”
Shiva was angered, firstly for having been stopped to see his wife and secondly for this boy announcing himself as Parvati’s son. With no further thought, he axed the boy’s head. Just then, Parvati emerged hearing the chaos. She was devastated to see her beheaded son. She narrated the whole story to Shiva with tears of anger. Lord Shiva immediately repented upon his short temper and instructed his Ganas (attendants) to fetch a head. Since they were in a forest, the Ganas found a dying elephant, seeking the animal’s permission they took its head. Shiva like Parvati, with utmost faith and words of acceptance, placed the head on his body and spoke,
“I wholehearted take you as my son and name you Ganesha, the elephant-headed. I bestow you with qualities of unsurpassable wisdom and sturdy temperament. You shall be summoned by devotees at the onset of new ventures and initiatives. Your presence shall keep the patrons reminded of your qualities, of how steadfastness and perseverance are helpful to clear the vighans (challenges) that fall on the path of action.”
In this manner, Lord Shiva and Mata Parvati birthed Lord Ganapati. Since then Lord Ganesh is worshipped before all Gods at the initiation of any enterprise.
SYMBOLISM
Lord Ganesh is portrayed as holding a sweet, a ladoo or modak, symbolic of the blessing of sweetness and affluence in life, the other hand is showing a palm, symbolic of reassurance that everything will eventually come to you. In another, he holds a lotus, representing Mother Nature and in the fourth holding his broken tusk symbolic of a weapon to pierce and dig into the problem. His vaahan is a rat, yet again symbolic of problem-solving ability. Just as a rat although not fast and ferocious is acclaimed for chipping away the problem by biting it away rigorously. The rat is also able to reach deep down into the ground and can reach high up the mountains. Considered as people’s God, he is aptly called ‘Ganesha’.
Rani Durgavati placed her sword and shield on the takht and raised her palm to send away the sipahis for privacy with her father, King Keerat Rai Shalavahan, at Kalinjar Fort in, Uttar Pradesh.
“He may be a Gond, a tribal by birth. But Dalpat Shah is a Kshatriya by deeds. His valour and political moves speak of his remarkable statesmanship. He is the only King who has been able to keep the Mughals under control, checking their spread towards South India. He fiercely guards his territory, showing those invaders their place. I have also seen his knightly demeanour in many competitions, he impresses me; he is worthy of a Rajput princess’s consort. I see no better marriage match for myself, Baba Hukum!
Durgavati tried to convince her father as well as tacitly announce her decision to marry the ruler of Gondwana land, Dalpat Shah. King Keerat Rai, standing before the life-size portrait of his late wife, intently listened to his daughter. Simultaneously, he recalled his wife’s last words before her death,
“She shall have her will to marry as per her choice. Raise her to be an independent Rajput princess. Promise me! You will allow her to choose her life partner.”
Durgavati was only five years old when her mother died. Her father had raised her as a competent warrior and a free-willed girl, well-versed with armoury knowledge, horse riding, archery and sword skills. Since her early years, she displayed an inclination towards learning political and military aspects of the empire. She often pestered her teachers to narrate and explain the political set up in the epic Mahabharata and Lanka Kand of Ramayana. She would act stubbornly to accompany her father on hunting expeditions. He was always left surprised by her outstanding hunting strategy and markswoman skills. She loved to hear him and being patted,
“You are a true Rajput. You know how to kill an enemy and how to save yourself.”
A Political alliance between the Gond Dynasty and the Rajputs.
And now, despite raising her as an independent, free-spirited young woman, when she was proposing to marry somebody of her choice, a king from the Gond tribe, he wasn’t in her favour. Just because he belonged to an inferior tribe. But soon reminded of his promise to the dying wife, he gave in to his daughter’s decision and nodded for the marriage. Marriage between a Rajput princess and a Gond ruler also announced a political alliance between the Rajputana and Gondwana dynasties. It was a remarkable move in the history of both the dynasties. Durgavati sat on the queen’s throne beside Dalpat Shah. The latter’s initial hesitation in accepting a Rajput queen soon disappeared by her warmth towards the locals. Dalpat Shah was mesmerized by the beauty of the Rani and amazed by her intelligent views and opinions on socio-political affairs of the kingdom. They both romanticized their goals of resisting the Mughals who were rapidly spreading their empire across India. She absorbed everything from her husband on how to efficiently run an empire. Blissfully their marriage bloomed, and soon they were blessed with a son. Grand celebrations were held across the Gondwana lands at the birth of the heir. They named him Veer Narayan. Durgavati now became thoroughly engaged in raising a worthy heir. Noticing her engrossed in her new phase of motherhood, Dalpat Shah would often mock her,
“It seems my beautiful Rani has lost herself to this innocent cherub. My heart and the courtroom miss you. Spare your time for us also sometimes. I am beginning to get envious of him now.”
And they both would burst into laughter as their eyes filled with dreams of their son’s future as the next ruler of a prosperous Gondwana empire.
In the wee hours of one morning, Dalpat Shah was all dressed to leave for a hunting expedition. Durgavati came forward to hand him his sword. As she rested the sword in his hands, it lost balance and fell down with a thud. The hard metal noise echoed loudly in the hall. Dalpat Shah immediately lifted it and graced it with a forehead touch. With a loving touch on Durgavati’s head and Veer Narayan’s cheek, he left. The bad omen of the sword’s dropping played at the back of her mind all day. It was late midnight, Durgavati restlessly paced in the chamber, for the Maharaja was never so late in his return. As she looked through the Jharokha below, she saw that the mashaals that were dimmed were now burning bright, and many soldiers were running around frantically. Just then a maid and minister barged in
“Maharani, Maharaja has been injured badly. He lost his balance from the horse and fell into a hole in the forest. He is in the Aarogyashala.”
Why Rani Durgavati had to take up the regency of the Gond Dynasty?
Although a Kshatriya Queen, Durgavati had never experienced this much fear in her life. Intuitively she had already known what was coming. She rushed into the shala and to her horror, she saw that Dalpat Shah had collapsed to the severe head injuries. She stayed in a state of shock for months. All that she repeated to herself was,
“Why do all my loved ones leave me so early?”
As she looked at her toddler son, Veer Narayana, her heart wept even more. She turned into a living corpse.
One day while she sat alone, looking distantly at the far lands, their royal ministers, Adhar Kayastha and Man Thakur walked in, “Maharani! There is an urgency that demands your attention. We are surrounded by Mughals from three sides, our empty throne has become an available invitation for them. Our spies have brought in the news that Baz Bahadur of Malwa is soon planning an attack on us. The empty throne is inviting invaders, Maharani! Until our heir, Veer Narayan reaches a suitable age, you will have to take up the regency. And that too immediately.”
Why Rani Durgavati shifted the capital from Singorgarh Fort to Chauraghar Fort?
The news of Mughal’s plan to usurp their land sent her blood boiling. For months she was lost in her misery, unable to foresee the consequences the death of her husband had brought in. She left for her chamber without a word. Her anger flowed through her tears as she stood before Dalpat Shah’s portrait. She stood there for a long time as if preparing herself for a big leap. Without wasting any time, she announced herself as the regent. She dressed as a Maharani once again, this time the persona spoke of a military regent, her eyes stone hard and focused. She held Veer Narayana’s hand and regally walked into the hall of ministers for addressing her court. As a first political move, she announced the shift of their capital from Singorgarh to Chauraghar Fort. The announcement sent the hall buzzing with confusion. She explained,
“We shall shift to Chauraghar for its highly strategic location. This shall announce it to our enemies that our land is not weak, vulnerable to an invasion. It’s located over the hill-top amidst the dense Satpura forest, making it hard for any enemy to attack and conquer it. Also, we must immediately prepare our cavalry to meet Baaz Bahdur’s attack. I am sure he is coming soon.”
Her political moves convinced the ministers and the Gondwana people of her astute abilities as a ruler. In unison, they nodded in approval.
“Jai Bhavani!”
Rani Durgavati raised her sword of victory over Baaz Bahadur for the third time. His repeated attacks were answered hands down by the Gond ruler. By now the Mughal ruler had received a clear message that Gond was not an available land for invasion and that the brave Rani Durgavati was an avatar of Goddess Durga herself. Since she took up the post as a regent in 1550, Durgavati had not just resisted his attacks but had caused his army much loss.
Rani Durgavati stood watching her people celebrate their victory with dancing, music and lavish feast. She pampered her warriors well with ample rewards. In the span of 6 years as a ruler she had earned much respect not just from the Gonds but from other dynasties as well. She truly personified the statement that a female ruler is just as capable as a male one. As part of the celebration, the tribe came together and sang her praises. The women heaped accolades on their queen for building several reservoirs for sufficient water supply, thus saving their labour and offering respite from drier days. A group of farmers came forward and shared the story of her immense courage in hunting and getting rid of a man-eating lion. Unlike most rulers, she didn’t just rule from the throne but also treaded in the streets. She was an approachable administrator who empathized with the woes and needs of the common Gondwana people. The praja revered their ruler as a Goddess.
************
Mohammad Akbar accompanied by his council of ministers strolled in the Mughal garden, as they exchanged the news from around Hindustan.
“Jahanpanah! Baz Bahadur’s third attempt to invade Gondwana has resulted in his bitter, shameful defeat yet again. The Gondwana dynasty is growing prosperously under a Janana (female) regent, Rani Durgavati,” informed one of the ministers.
“Isn’t she the same Rajput rani under whom the artistic sculptures of Khajuraho and Kalinjar Forts are sculpted?” confirmed Akbar.
“Yes, Jahanpanah!”
“Plan an immediate attack on Baaz Bahadur. I shall address the court on the same tomorrow in Diwan-e-khaas,”
Akbar commanded, beaming with the announcement. Victory over Baaz Bahadur was like eating a piece of cake for the Shehansha of Hindustan. The trumpet of Akbar’s rule over Malwa was heard far and wide.
“How do you have the audacity to suggest an alliance with that Muslim, Asaf Khan? Fearing Akbar, you are seeking security under the shelter of another Muslim. Have you lost your mind completely, Addhar Kayastha?” Rani Durga retorted in disbelief.
Durgavati knew Akbar’s intent behind usurping Malwa. His eyes lay on their prosperous Gondwana land, which shared its territory with Malwa. He also held grudges against them since the Mughals were always kept under the thumb by the Gond ancestors. His proximity was certainly a major threat to them now.
“Call for a meeting with our most trusted ministers. I am certain Akbar will come for us soon. We shall have our defence ready. Make sure no information leaks out. Also, make an announcement to the people in the whole region that their land needs them. Gather all men and prepare them to join the army and fight. We shall arrange our camp in the Narrai Valley. If Akbar is superior with artillery and infantry, we shall counter him with our navigation skills in the dense forest. Our Gond people understand the region well. And that shall be our strength. Let’s go and access our cavalry!”
Durgavati immediately got to action. Veer Narayan, her now adolescent son followed her. He bore a stark resemblance to his late father, Dalpat Shah. His valour and learning skills spoke of a rich gene pool of Rajputs and Gonds. In spite of Durgavati’s resistance, he had declared his will to fight in the battle against Akbar. Headed by their army chief, the Gond soldiers built a camp at Narai Nala. The location was highly strategic as it was situated between hilly range on one side and Gaur and Narmada River on the other, offering just a small opening to the valley. Durgavati’s plan was executed immediately. The locals guarded the valley with hideouts in the forest area of the hills and the tribes watched their river water. The opening was protected with a good number of soldiers equipped with artillery. As predicted, Akbar’s army attacked uninformed. They underestimated the Gonds; their attack was countered from three sides. The chief succeeded in defeating their attack, making them retreat. Though the army chief lost his life battling them, the win boosted the confidence of the Gondwana army.
In the tent, Durgavati was planning the strategy with Veer Narayan, Man Thakur and Adhar Kayastha.
“It’s a huge loss to have lost our most able army chief. With no further argument, it is decided that I shall lead the army now. I shall make Akbar’s army taste my attack. Let’s attack them today itself at night. The darkness and their unpreparedness will benefit us,” Durgavati announced, oozing confidence.
Sensing that their Maharani looked over-confident and less reasonable, they retaliated,
“We could offer a successful defence because we were prepared and guarded on the sides. But walking into their camp at night would simply be a reckless move. Given their kind of artillery and a huge army, it’s like walking into the arms of death. We suggest we play defence and not attack.”
Veer Narayana also nodded to their minister’s reasoning. Having lost her chief, Durgavati didn’t want to lose the confidence of her ministers, so she complied with their advice. Next day, Akbar’s army attacked again. This time with ten times the number of soldiers and with artillery the Gonds had never even seen before. The sight of Akbar’s massive army shook the hearts of Durgavati’s army. Seated on her elephant, Sarman, with Veer Narayana on her side, she thundered,
“Let those Mughal beasts know that the Gondwana land is treaded by brave hearts. Show them the power of our might. Strike to kill! Jai Bhavani!”
They marched forward. Within a few hours, as Durgavati massacred many soldiers, her son Veer Narayana followed her with equal might, slaying whoever fell in his path. The Mughal army chief knew where he had to strike to weaken Durgavati. He surrounded young Veer Narayana with his soldiers. Veer Narayana lost his life fighting them. The sight of his dead body paralyzed Durgavati. The heart of a warrior transformed and weakened in motherly sentiments. Her grip on the sword loosened as her eyes moistened with tears.
“Fight Maharani! Look straight! Tighten your grip and strike!” yelled Man Thakur from a distance. He could see her losing her senses. Before she could regain her strength and mind, an arrow pierced her neck and ear. She began bleeding profusely.
“We must retreat Maharani! Shall I take you back to the camp?” proposed her mahout as he saw her losing her consciousness.
“We must retreat Maharani!” Man Thakur and Adhar Kayastha shouted in unison.
With no reaction to their words, Durgavati looked at her son’s body. Her hand reached to the dagger hanging on the left side of her waist. With one sharp move, she stabbed herself with a loud shout,
“Rajput blood never accepts defeat!”
With those last words, she died. She chose to honour her own death than live under the Mughal rule. Although Akbar took over the land, the region followed her way of administration and the people of Gondwana worshipped her as an avatar of Goddess Durga. History glorifies her name in gold – as a brave legendary queen of the Gondwana land.
Emperor Porus of Purava kingdom spoke with pride as his hands and legs were chained but the head held high. He walked towards King Alexander of Macedonia, as a surrenderer, after giving him a tough fight, in the battle of Hydaspes (on the bank of river Jhelum, now in Punjab Pakistan) in 326 BC.
Alexander was on a winning Speer since the age of 20 yrs., individually expanding his territories and winning the glorious name as Alexander the Great. After establishing the Great Greek Empire in the west, he marched towards the Indian Sub-continent. For expansion in East, he had to cross the monsoon swollen rivers of Jhelum and Beas rivers that lay under the surveillance of King Porus, the Greek name for King Purshottam of Purvana Kingdom. On the first day of battle, Alexander who had under-estimated the Porus army was overwhelmed and astonished to witness their number and the outstanding skills and strength of the soldiers. The sight of Porus at warfare was another amazement. Seated atop the mighty elephant he butchered every enemy that crossed his path. Porus was wreaking havoc on the opponent army. Alexander admired his valour, as he observed his every attack and defence. On the first day itself, Alexander lost hundreds of his soldiers and suffered heavy artillery loss. Roxana, wife of Alexander has accompanied him during that time. When she heard of Porus’s army and their outstanding defence and fighting skills she became fearful. She felt as if something would happen to Alexander. She was acknowledged with Indian traditions and thus decided to meet Porus in person. She sent a messenger seeking a private meeting with him. Porus didn’t smell any foul play so nodded to the meeting.
Roxana took along a red and orange coloured thread. She walked towards king Porus with her head covered with a drape and tied the thread on his right wrist.
“This makes me your sister and you, my brother. I know about the Indian Tradition of Raksha Bandhan. This thread shall keep you reminded of me, of your now sister!”
Saying so she walked out of his tent and returned to her side of the camp. The next day again both the forces met and arrayed themselves for the battle. Coincidently, Porus and Alexander came face to face against each other, one to one in a sword duel. Two kingly sword clang thunderously. Every blow was received and returned with mightier strength. Alexander lost his stamina, as a result, he tripped and fell to the ground as his sword fell away. Porus now stood towering above him, his sword pointed just inches away from his throat. The armies froze. Porus raised his sword to stab Alexander, but as he raised his hand the red thread on his wrist appeared before his eyes. He recalled Roxana’s words, and his sword stabbed the ground beside Alexander. Porus spared him his life, uttering, “We are people of words. We keep our promises!” Alexander was baffled by Porus’s action. In the evening when he shared the happenstance with Roxana, she revealed to him with teary eyes about the amulet she had tied to Porus as a sign of bother sister bond.
The battle continued for days. King Porus lost the battle against the mighty army of Alexander the Great, but his defence against him has been written as a masterpiece in history. His surrender was honoured by King Alexander as he appointed him as the governor of the land. Hence, Porus retained his land and Alexander marched ahead to invade others.
Although not much has been mentioned about this event in many history books. The tradition of Raksha Bandhan, as a bond of protection between the brother and sister trails back to 356 BC.
When Hidimba saw Bheem, it was love at first sight. But how and when did Bheem marry Hidimba? The fabled love story between a warrior and a demoness features in the Mahabharat right after the Lakshagriha incident. The Pandavas, along with their mother Kunti, were spending their days in a forest where the demon Hidimb attacked them one night. Bheem put up a brave fight, and with a little help from Hidimba managed to kill the demon. His courage and strength instantly attracted the demoness to Bheem.
An Unconventional Bond Between Bheem And Hidimba
Bheem and Hidimba were married soon after this incident and the alliance had the approval of the Pandavas. Thus, Hidimba became the first daughter-in-law of Kunti and Pandu vansh. Comparatively, Dwapar Yug was more liberal and less stereotyped. Hidimba unhesitant, expressed her desire to marry Bheem.
To win his trust, and to assure him of her love and intentions, she even helped Bheem protect his family from her demon brother Hidimb.
With her guidance, he was able to kill him. Convinced about her feelings, Kunti and the Pandavas blessed their marriage. The unconventional wedlock was approved with a few conditions – that the demoness will not join the clan back in Indraprast but stay back at the Kamyaka forest. She would neither stake her claim as the queen nor would her offspring be liable as an heir to the throne.
A long-distance marriage
Hidimba knew she would never enjoy a conventional married life, living under the same roof with her husband. But all she wanted was Bheem’s love, and so she agreed to the conditions. Like the contemporary times, though inconvenient, long-distance marriages existed and thrived centuries back too.
Why Bheem left Hidimba?
The romantic honeymoon period of their marriage lasted only for a year. Having seen the face of his son Ghatotkach, Bheem announced it was time for them to part. The time had come for the Pandavas to carry on with their journey and that’s why Bheem left Hidimba.
With a heavy heart, Hidimba and Bheem promised to love each other until the end. Hidimba stayed back to raise a worthy son and take care of the forest and people of Kamyaka whereas Bheem, along with his brothers, embarked on the journey to win back their honor and empire.
Making a long-distance marriage stand the test of time
So how did this long-distance marriage manage to survive the test of time and circumstances? Hidimba was a demoness blessed with supernatural powers. Every once in a while, when Bheem was reachable, she would fly to him. And together they would go off to far lands. She would carry him to celestial places.
They would fill their hearts with memories.
During their time together, Bheem would assure her of his love. In the truest words, he meant when he said, “You are my first wedded wife. Your place shall always be special. It can never be replaced.” And Hidimba would believe every word he spoke.
Bheem and Hidimba’s son strengthened their bond
During their exile years, Bheem visited the Kamyaka forest and stayed for days. This was the only opportunity for Bheem and Hidimba’s son, Ghatotkach, had to bond with his father, uncles and grandmother. “Will you teach how to master the mace, father?” he’d ask and Bheem would proudly comply.
Ghatotkach was a combined dream that Bheem and Hidimba lived and shared. He was a symbol of their love.
Bheem often praised her, “You are a very diligent and loving mother. I can see our son is strong and responsible. Now, begin his training in warfare skills. When I return to Indraprast, I will train him in mace fight. It shall be a proud moment when he defeats me.”
Hidimba would lovingly, follow his guidelines and raise their son in the manner befitting a prince.
A hint of jealousy
When Bheem married Draupadi, and visited Hidimba along with her, the emotions of jealousy and insecurity were natural. She lamented and spewed anger.
“Is your love for me over now? She is very beautiful. Your rightful queen!”
And empathetic Bheem reassured her, “There can’t be any comparisons my dear. She has her place, and you yours. Love doesn’t end like this. And you were aware of the unconventional nature of our marriage right from the beginning. Besides, you already are the queen of Kamyaka. You do not need me to make you a queen. You are far more superior. Isn’t it?”
Eased by his words, Hidimba settled down. She reminded herself to focus on their love and son, and not get affected by her husband’s relationships outside of their nuptial bond. Bheem and Hidimba made their long-distance marriage work, thanks to their strong faith in each other.
Whenever they were haunted by doubts, they reassured and reminded themselves of the conditions they had discussed before getting into the wedlock. Like a mature couple, they gave each other liberty to practice and seek their individual goals yet come together when life allowed them to, particularly in raising their son, Ghatotkach. With faith and trust as the cornerstones, their long-distance marriage stood the test of time.
The Concept of Long Distance Marriages Endures
This wedded setup is quite common in contemporary society as well. Couples live in separate homes and different cities. Married, yet living separately to fulfil their individual goals and purposes. They are united, merged with love yet they balance their individual goals and support each other’s as well.
Unlike the couples living under the same roof, those in a long-distance marriage meet at intervals and still pick up from where they had left. Distance doesn’t mar their feelings or affect the bonding. Together they find ways to keep in touch, keep the spark alive and above all learn to ward off temptations of straying.
Even though they don’t have their partner by their side all the time, they don’t let distance weaken their relationship.
They learn to manage their insecurity, and at times suspicions. In those times, a demoness relied on her supernatural powers to reach her beloved, today couples use technology to stay connected. The virtual world keeps them close, if not tangibly at least emotionally.
Vyas, also known as Veda Vyasa, is the legendary author of the world’s bulkiest epic Mahabharata as well as the ancient Vedas and Puranas. He is a well-known mythical figure. The Chiranjivi (immortal) sage whose birthday is celebrated as the festival of Guru Purnima. But not many know the answers to pertinent questions about Veda Vyasa history – When was Veda Vyasa born?, Who is Veda Vyasa in Mahabharata?, and Who are the parents of Rishi Vyasa? – to name a few. Let’s explore the tale of Veda Vyasa birth to find out:
Vyas is believed to be an expansion of Lord Vishnu, one of the trinity. He was created when Vishnu for the first time uttered the syllable ‘Bhu’. He is also considered immortal, as he wasn’t birthed. Vyas came to earth during the Dwapar Yug and bestowed with the duty to convert all Vedas and Puranas from oral to written versions. Besides having written the epic, he played a pivotal role in Mahabharata.
Tracing the legend of Veda Vyasa’s birth, one uncovers that the relationship between his parents is unconventional and objectionable, even by the moral standards of the modern world. So, who are the parents of Rishi Vyasa? He is the son Satyavati and Rishi Parashar – a fisherwoman and a wandering sage.
A sage in grips of attraction
One day, Sage Parashar was in a rush to reach a place to perform a yagna. River Yamuna fell on his path. He spotted a ferry and requested to be dropped across to the bank. As Parashar sat in the boat and breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes fell on the woman ferrying the boat. In the backdrop of dawn, the beauty of this fisherwoman named Satyavati left him awestruck. In the early morning breeze, her curly locks danced on her face, even as her delicate arms moved in a circular motion, rowing the paddles.
Enticed by her beauty, Parashar felt a strong surge of attraction rise within him. He recalled the blessing of Shiva: ‘you shall be the father of a meritorious son’.
Parashar knew it was the right time for him to become one. He expressed the desire for copulation to Satyavati. Having come of age, Satyavati too found herself in the grip of carnal urges. But she was in a dilemma, for the repercussions of the act would last a lifetime. But if she denied the sage, he could angrily topple the boat or curse her with an ill prophecy.
A young woman riddled with doubt
She spoke hesitantly, “Oh, Great Munivar! I am a fisherwoman. I smell of fish (Matsyagandha). How will you bear my body odour?” Without a further word, Parashar blessed her with a boon of musk-smelling (Kasturi-Gandhi) body. Unable to hold himself, he shifted next to her. She retreated, sighting other doubts:
“A baby outside the wedlock will cast aspersion on my purity.”
Also looking around at the open river and sky, she retreated further.
“Anyone can see us out here in the open. It can invite trouble for us, and me more than you.”
Vyasa is born
Quickly rowing to the nearest bank, Parashar built a bushy hideout, removed from the village area. He also promised her that her virginity would remain intact after the act. Assured by the sage and his divine powers, Satyavati birthed him a son in the bushy hide-out without anyone’s knowledge.
The boy was born with divine genes of Rishi Vashishtha, his great grandfather, and so Parashar named him Vyas.
Parashar took Vyas with him and promised Satyavati that when needed, her son will come to her aid. Parashar washed himself and his memories of Satyavati in the river Yamuna. He left with Vyas and never met Satyavati again.
Even Satyawati returned to her community and never spoke about the incident. She kept this secret even from King Shantanu, her future husband. No one knew of it, until when she shared it with Bhishma on becoming the Rajmata of Hastinapur.
Veda Vyasa gives Hastinapur its heir
Satyavati married King Shantanu and bore him two sons, Vichitravirya and Chitrangada. Shantanu’s death and Bhishma’s promise to not to ascend on the throne of Hastinapur, led to the coronation of her sons. Satyavati became a Rajmata. Her sons married while Bhishma adhered to the oath of celibacy. Hastinapur prospered under Vichitravirya’s rein.
But as destiny would have it, both Vichitravirya and Chitrangada died of illness without giving Hastinapur an heir to the throne.
The throne lay vacant, inviting other empires to attack and usurp their kingdom. Desperate for a way out of impending doom, she remembered her son, Vyas. She had heard of him as a renowned seer, a powerful personality with divine powers and intellect.
She confided in Bhishma and shared the truth about how and when was Veda Vyasa born. With Bhishma’s help, she arranged for the widowed queens, Ambalika and Ambika, to procreate with Vyas for the sake of an heir.
On the request of his mother, Vyas fathered Dhritrashtra and Pandu, the future kings of Hastinapur, along with Vidura – who was born to the queens’ lady-in-waiting and grew up to be an astute scholar and advisor to the kings.
Is Veda Vyasa Still Alive?
Veda Vyasa was created and not born, so he is considered immortal. He resides in the Himalayas, as per our mythological accounts. According to Srimad Bhagavatam, Veda Vyasa lives in a mystical place called Kalapa Grama. At the end of Kaliyuga, he will fulfil his destiny to revive the Surya dynasty by producing a son.
Veda Vyasa Birth – A Story That Resonates Even Today
Society still considers flings like the one between Satyavati and Rishi Parashar immoral. They are secrets that are let out as confessions with anonymous names and faces. We may live in a different yug but a child born outside the wedlock is still called a mistake. Such conceptions are terminated in the womb itself more often than not. Even if they are birthed, they live with baggage of social taboo.
When one flips through the pages of legendary scriptures, one stumbles upon many tales that portray rather offbeat perceptions of love and a different course of relationships. One such story is of Krishna’s son Pradyumna and his marriage to Mayawati. To understand this story, we have to revisit the creation of Kama Dev, the God of Love, lust and pleasure, and his other half, Rati.
When Pradyumna and Mayawati were Kama Dev and Rati
Kama Dev was created by the mind of Lord Brahma, with a purpose to form a cultivated society. To lay a foundation of love. If you look at mythological love stories from Indian History, you realise that back then, gender equality wasn’t an issue and love wasn’t taboo, so a goddess with similar traits named Rati was also created.
It is often wondered why did Goddess Rati fall in love with Kamadeva? Well, because Brahma created them with all the essentials to create an epitome of love and ideal union. Attractive in looks, enhanced them with shringar, indulging in lust and playful games, oozing sensuality in their behaviour, they touched upon some of the cornerstones of a fulfilling relationship.
These traits are also reflected in their choices – spring is their favourite season, colourful birds like the parrot and peacock their chosen vehicles, and last but not the least, a shared vision to work toward common goals. For example, when Brahma assigned them the task of dissuading Lord Shiva from an ascetic’s life and persuade him to descend from the Himalayas to marry Parvati, they set out to do so together.
Kama Dev and Rati teamed up with Vasant Ritu – the spring season when nature blooms with colours, fragrances and pleasantness that influences the human mind and body and causes a release of hormones that increase the craving for love and mating. Under these circumstances, they tactfully lured Shiva away from the Himalayas and toward Goddess Parvati. As Shankar, Shiva married Parvati and started a family to give a worthy progeny to the society.
Then, why did Lord Shiva kill Kamdev? For he was oblivious that all of this was Kama’s plot, and when he learnt the truth, Shiva burnt him to ashes. Rati, then, laments and approaches all the Devas and Goddesses to bring back her beloved. They empathize with her and are moved by her grief, and promise a reunion of the two. Thus, Kama and Rati become the epitome of a perfect couple sharing similar traits, likes and dislikes.
Pradyumna and Mayawati – A Nonconformist Tale of Love
The story of Pradyumna and Mayawati, during the Dwapar Yug, is among the love stories from Hindu literature that raise a lot of eyebrows and often leave people feeling unsettled.
During this era, Kama Dev descended on earth in human form as Pradyumna – The Son of Sri Krishna. Rati incarnates as Mayawati, wife of Asura Sambara. Within a few days of Krishna’s son Pradyumna’s birth, Asura Sambara abducts the infant and throws him into the ocean because he has been told that Krishna and Rukmani’s offspring would be his annihilator.
But Pradyuman is swallowed by a big fish, which is then caught by fishermen and transported to Asura Sambara’s house for a feast. When Mayawati cuts open the fish, she finds an infant inside who is still alive. She feels instantly drawn to him. The child’s innocent face immediately strikes a bond with her. Unaware of his whereabouts, she takes him under her protection and decides to raise him.
She succeeds in convincing Sambara to let the child stay, for he is just a harmless, lost infant. Her instant, strong affinity towards the child is incomprehensible even to herself. She shuns the assistance of the maids and raises him on her own with qualities of a worthy Kshatriya. Along with the warfare skills, she teaches him magical powers learnt from Asura Sambara.
A sexual attraction takes hold
Years pass, Pradyumna grows up into a handsome lad. He bears a striking resemblance to God Kama, with a chiselled body, defined features and an undeniable charm. Quite often, Mayawati experiences a desirable attraction towards him, not suited to a mother figure. She experiences a strong urge to be around him all the time.
Perplexed with her own emotions, one day, she is lost in her thoughts when Narad Muni, the mythical sage who could travel all the lokas, visits her. He reads her mind, and thus, tells her that the reason behind her unacceptable, disturbing feelings is that in a previous birth she was Goddess Rati, the wife of God Kama, who has incarnated as Pradyumna.
Learning about the past, her guilt and confusion fade away. She doesn’t suppress her desires and feelings anymore. Her eyes now openly express her love towards Pradyumna, her touch is different now. It’s not motherly but womanly.
Pradyumna learns his reality
Pradyumna can sense the change in Mayawati and feels disturbed receiving these subtle messages of desire and love from her. Unable to hold the suspense behind this transformation, he confronts her. She then discloses to him the truth about their previous lives as spouses and the purpose of birth – killing Asura Sambara.
And thus, Pradyumna sets forth to kill Asura Sambara. Like Rati, Mayawati too supports Pradyuman in his pursuit to end Sambara’s life. A duel rages between Krishna’s Son Pradyumna and the Asura. Prdayumna prevails over the mighty Sambara since he bears both the blood of a Kshatriya and the knowledge of magical powers of the Asuras. Once the Asura is killed, Pradyuman and Mayawati enter into holy matrimony and set out for Dwarka to Lord Krishna and Rukmani.
This marriage between Mayawati and Pradyuman raises a storm in the cultured minds of today defined by societal constructs. How can a boy marry the mother figure in his life? How can someone develop romantic feelings for a respected elder?
Seeing through the lens of mythology, the reason laid is bare – they were destined to do so, and their marriage was plotted by the Devas as part of a bigger plan to bring down an invincible Asura and also to bring Kama Dev back to life so that he could be reunited with Rati once again. If you look at who was Pradyumna in Mahabharata closely, the whole reason for his existence becomes clear.
Even if one views this unconventional wedlock between Pradymna and Mayawati through the lens of modern psychology and behavioural science, it can be explained that behind the garb of relationships and age barriers there lies a raw, basic instinct of love, lust and attraction. These are flare up when the societal barriers are knocked down.
The mighty King of Suryavansh, Sri Ram is giving into the talks of the gossipmongers!! How can you even think of abandoning Sita Mata? She is as chaste as this Earth, as this universe. Everyone has seen her go through the Agnipariksha. You still want to do this to her, to abandon her! No bhaiya! You may kill me for my disobedience, but I shall not give in to this cruel act,” Lakshman retaliated, as Ram ordered him to take Sita away from the palace and drop her in the forest. Not receiving any reaction from Ram, Lakshman continued, “Bhaiya, it was you, the progressive personality, who reformed Ahilya. She was punished by her husband, made an outcast by the society, turned into a stone as if dead, for a crime she didn’t even commit. She just fell into Indra’s trap. Only you were able to see her innocence and it was you who resurrected her from a stone to a living being, rehabilitating her into the society. It was your unbiased perception, who saw Shabri, the untouchable tribal woman, beyond her caste and creed. By accepting her hospitality, you set an example to the world that caste or birth do not define a person. It was you who bestowed the honour upon Mandodari, the wife of demon Ravana, and saved her from the impending ostracization from the society after Ravana’s death. You saw her as a deserving and faithful wife and a righteous queen. And now, when it comes to your wife, Mata Sita, why have you suddenly become so cold and weak?”
Receiving only Ram’s back and silence, Lakshman flung his hands in frustration. He pleaded again, “Think again Bhaiya! Take back your words. Change your decision. Sita Mata doesn’t deserve this. After an exile of 14years, when she is finally able to adorn herself as the queen, you are taking it away from her. Why! Why are you doing this to her? To yourself? Why so much pain? Ayodhya will never be called just for its judgements if she is sent away. This action will become a blotch on Raghu Vansh’s history. Don’t do this!”
With a deep sigh, Ram replied to Lakshman, “I know Lakshman, this decision will always be a subject of ridicule for eons to come. It will always raise a finger on me as a husband. But there is no other way to save my dear wife from the havoc these travelling stories will have on her, even if she stays adorned and safe here. I know her, and I also know how crowds behave and operate. By sending her, I will take away a comfortable life, but will save her honour. It will save her from everyday torture she will go through with these hush-hush words and scanning eyes of the crowd. I am also confident of Sita’s strength, and that, she can stand alone and make a life for herself anywhere even when I am not beside her. She is divine and powerful beyond means. Do as I say Lakshman. Take her away before I collapse to my heart’s weakness.”
Tears rolled down Lakshman’s eyes, as he spat with anger, “What good is it to build an empire, be the scion of Sun god when we do not even have power to save our own? Why are we so vulnerable to these talks of ordinary people? An innocent, chaste person is being banished because the Janta’s heads are filled with cooked up stories and pollution of hackneyed beliefs. It is a shameful act bhaiya! Do you know how Mata Sita will feel? How much she will suffer? It’s a lifelong punishment for no crime. She stood by you. And now, you are withdrawing when she needs you. I do not understand you, Shri Ram!”
Choking with words, Ram spoke, sealing Lakshman’s plea and anger. “I know my Sita as she knows me. I will always be looked down upon as a husband. But my Sita knows the purpose behind my birth. I wasn’t given a choice. I was sent to this Earth with a purpose to become Maryada Purshottam, and this is one of the prices I am paying to be so.” Like all the people in the world, Ram’s explanation didn’t convince Lakshman. With drooping head and slouching shoulders, he simply walked away to follow the orders and fulfil his duty of serving Shri Ram.
The gurgling sound of the river called for Buddha’s attention as he strolled in the forest. He looked into the crystal clear water of the river. To his surprise, the water bore a reflection of Gautama Siddhartha and not Buddha. Adorned in fineries, bearing a delightful smile, the innocent eyes with a fidgeting body language. He ran his hand, to clear the illusion, but the reflection stayed. Buddha was seeing his earlier self, before his moment of awakening and titled as Buddha. He smiled at the reflection as Siddhartha struck a conversation.
“We are one person, but two personalities now. Don’t you find it strange, Buddha?” nudged Siddhartha.
Thinking deep, Buddha nodded with a yes. He noticed the vibrancies of his youth, curiosity and the twinkle of ignorance in his eyes. Looking at Siddhartha attentively, Buddha inquired, “Do you recall, how did this transience of Siddhartha to Buddha occur and how you felt during that time?” Siddhartha reflected, “My accidental encounter with the four sights; an old man, a sick woman, a corpse and a monk brought a harsh reality check on life. I was brought up in a palace, where the natural course of human existence wasn’t at my disposal. I was only exposed to the pleasures, youth, good health and beauty. It became my definition of human life. Old age, death, diseases were never seen or experienced by me. Those sights put me face to face with the other unknown realities. And it generated fear in me. For anything that is new and unfamiliar feels like a threat to the existing one. My ignorance on life was revealed. Those sights consumed me. They played before my eyes, day and night. I tried to overcome them by hiding beneath my luxurious life. But I was stirred deeply by those encounters. And that night, when my curiosity was at peak I found the courage to take the leap. To set out on the unknown path, to see, learn and experience the new truths. Hence I left the palace, to explore the other side of Life.”
Buddha probed further, “It must have been difficult. From a protective, pleasurable life at palace to a life without any of it. How did you manage to continue practicing the rigorous penance? What was your driving force?” Displaying his youthful exuberance Siddhartha answered, “Yes, it was difficult. Very difficult. The initial phase of unlearning specially. From a habitual life of luxury, to a life of self-dependency was challenging. But I was always the spirited one. My quest to indulge and consume these new experiences was equally strong. I absorbed every truth of human existence. I experienced them with first hand encounter. I put myself through them. After doing it for years, after seeing the strength and vulnerabilities of living beings, my moment of awakening happened. I felt liberated. And thus you, Buddha was born. Right?” Buddha nodded with a “Yes!” This time Siddhartha asked Buddha curiously, “What was most important learning in entire course of the journey that you undertook?”
Buddha replied, “The most important lesson was that of the stages of learning. The stages that lead to liberation and enlightenment. The stages of acknowledgment, learning, analysis and acceptance. Acknowledging one’s own emotions and needs, whether good or bad. Followed by learning, through search and practice. Then comes analysis, gathering the answers of how, why, what and who? And lastly having seen and been through everything comes the stage of acceptance. Acceptance of one’s self and of the universe one is connected to. And most importantly, to be truly awakened to life, one must go through these stages.” Siddhartha was intrigued, he asked further, “And what did you learn in the end? What’s the best way to lead a good, peaceful life?”
Buddha replied with radiance of wisdom. “It’s the path of balance. To find that path, one must explore and understand both, birth and death, light and dark, pain and pleasure, hurt and healing. For all come together as one to sum up as life. To attain moksha, symbolic of being unaffected by the external world, to reach an absolute calm within. One must accepts the faces and phases of good or bad with a similar spirit. In doing so, one is able to break the cycle of sorrow and joy, of hurt and healing, of making and breaking, of attaining moksha, the absolute state of being, in sync with the universe.” After having an enriching conversation, Siddhartha and Buddha exchanged a similar glance of fulfilment as the reflection in the river submerged into the ripples.
Shakuni circled around Bhishma at a slow pace. Bhishma lay almost lifeless on his death bed of arrows. Without any tinge of mercy or pity in his heart, Shakuni grinned victoriously, while looking deep into Bhishma’s half-open eyes.
“Your eyes look tired, Pitamaha. Let me help you visualise the war scenario. The Kuru flag is unable to furl in the winds. It’s drooping and may soon fall off the pole. And you know what that means? It means my vengeance will be soon avenged,” Shakuni taunted.
“Why do you hate Hastinapur so much? Your sister is the queen of the empire. Your favourite nephew, Duryodhan, the King. You seem to be celebrating this defeat, why?” Bhishma asked gruffly.
Shakuni snorted with a laugh,
“Do you recall, Bhishma, the days when you usurped lands, my land, Gandhar, under the pretext of establishing Dharma there? Manifesting your greed to spread the territories of Hastinapur. Do you recall how my family died of hunger in prison? No, you don’t. For you weren’t there to see it. Every single grain of rice that was served to my near and dear ones, they fed me. So I could live and fight back when the winds were favourable. The insult you inflicted on my loving sister, Gandhari. You left no choice for my father, but to hand over his beautiful daughter to a blind man. You used your power to win girls for the kings of Hastinapur. My loving sister’s life became miserable with darkness beside a handicapped man. And who is responsible for all this? You, Yes you Pitamaha!”
Disturbed by the recall of past, Bhishma shook his head in distress. As if accepting the flaws of his decisions and actions, he pleaded,
“If you see me as your culprit, why punish Hastinapur? You could have killed me or brought me down? Why such a major plotting against the entire Kuru clan?”
Shakuni laughed,
“Who are you and what are you if not Hastinapur? What identity you built for yourself other than this kingdom. Hastinapur is nothing but a personification of you. It is a manifestation of your thoughts and actions. Though you vowed not to sit on the throne, you didn’t allow anyone to grow on it. You ruled everyone’s life in Hastinapur. You were so blinded with love for it that you assumed it was solely upon you to see the empire flourish. To extend its boundaries you killed kings, you abducted girls to serve to Kuru handicapped heirs to carry forward their lineage. So my choice to bring down the Kuru vansh is reasonable, isn’t it? Because to bring about Hastinapur’s doom is to bring down the supreme Devavrata, the indelible Bhishma!”
“And to do so, you used your sister and her off springs. Do you feel no guilt as a maternal uncle? For poisoning the tender heart of Duryodhan ever since his birth,” mocked Bhishma.
“Guilty? It’s not guilt but pride that I feel. If history will write you as Bhishma for the oath of celibacy you practiced, it will write me as the most crafted and intelligent man. The personification of Dwapar Yug. You used your arms and manpower to uphold Hastinapur and justified your actions in the name of Dharma. I used my cult practices, my political craftsmanship, my devious planning to bring down who erred me and my loved ones. History will show that the weak can rise. If not arms and power, there is much driving force in the revenge, fueled by the mind. And as per the guilt factor? It’s my love for my sister that kept the fire kindled. Every time I saw her blindfold beside a blind man, my blood boiled and mind ignited with anger. As per Duryodhan, I do feel sorry. But I needed a pawn, and I chose him.”
Wiping the tears from Bhishma’s eyes, Shakuni whispered,
“Lie on these arrows, Pitamaha, and ponder – was it me who crafted this war or was it you, your blinded love for Hastinapur that led to it? Was it the repercussions of your actions based on excessive greed for Hastinapur’s prosperity?”
Shakuni spewed his anger and walked away, and Bhishma was left experiencing more pain from arrows of guilt left by him than the arrows that lay under him.
