Vikas Singh - Bhima. The Man in the Shadows

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Bhima

The Man in the Shadows

Bhima

The Man in the Shadows

Vikas Singh

westland ltd

61, II Floor, Silverline Building, Alapakkam Main Road, Maduravoyal, Chennai 600095

93, I Floor, Sham Lal Road, New Delhi 110002

First published in India by westland ltd 2015

First E-pub edition: 2015

Copyright by Vikas Singh 2014

All rights reserved

ISBN : 978-93-85152-27-6

Typeset by Ram Das Lal

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, circulated, and no reproduction in any form, in whole or in part (except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews) may be made without written permission of the publishers.

To Premlata and Shyampriya

Wonderful grandmothers and fabulous storytellers

Chapter 1

Dusshasana lies whimpering at my feet. Hes pleading for mercy, but all I can hear are Draupadis cries as he dragged her through the gambling hall, her menstrual blood staining the pristine marble floor. He raises an imploring hand the same hand with which he had brutally yanked her hair as she tried desperately to hold on to one pillar after another; and then, scrabbled frantically at the floor.

This memory has consumed me for years. It has eaten away my insides, burnt my gut. Every morning, I flinch when I see Draupadis unbound hair. I have come to dread sleep, because I know the nightmare will return every time I shut my eyes. That I will wake up screaming in anguish. And rage. Rage at Duryodhana and Dusshasana, Shakuni and Karna. Rage at the ostensibly wise and powerful men, who mutely watched that despicable spectacle. Rage at the wilful stupidity of Yudhishtira. And, above all, rage at my own helplessness at the impotence of a warrior who could not protect his beloved wife.

Many times since that day, Ive contemplated killing myself. But I made many vows on that terrible day, and I intend to fulfil all of them. That is the one thing that has kept me going all these years.

Please, begs Dusshasana, bringing me back to the present. Youve already killed ninety-eight of us. Cant you spare just two, for the sake of our parents? Please, brother.

I laugh out loud. Even to me, it sounds hollow and chilling. Yes, I have killed ninety-eight of those incubated freaks though I suppose Im the last one who should talk about unnatural circumstances of birth. I killed most of them matter-of-factly, without feeling any great emotion. They were, after all, essentially inconsequential characters trapped in circumstances far beyond their control.

But in Vikarnas case, I had actually felt a pang of regret he was the lone Kaurava to have protested against the way Draupadi was treated. But Vikarna had taken the field against us, perhaps out of a misguided sense of loyalty to his brothers. I know the feeling. Hadnt I done the same, when Yudhishtira had tied my hands, forced me to watch the love of my life being dragged across the floor and exposed barbarically for strange men to gaze lustfully upon? I made sure to give Vikarna a quick death, snapping his neck with one fluid motion.

But Dusshasana was different. This one was personal. I was going to take enormous pleasure in this.

I drop my mace. A look of relief crosses Dusshasanas face. He seems to think hes going to get a reprieve. Then he sees me flex my fingers and his eyes widen in horror.

No, he bleats. No, please.

A red haze settles before my eyes. Im acutely aware of what Im doing, but my mind feels disconnected from my body. It is as if Im watching someone else.

I grasp Dusshasanas right arm and rip it out of his body as he utters a long, agonised wail. Then I plunge my fingers into his chest and tear his torso apart. I yank out his heart and bite into it. I bend over him and swallow a mouthful of his blood. I rip out his entrails and unceremoniously dump them into his helmet, along with his heart. Then, I pick up the helmet of another fallen warrior and fill it with Dusshasanas blood. I made a promise, I will keep it!

Rest in pieces, brother, I mutter, and march back to our camp, holding my grim booty. In some recess of my brain, I vaguely notice that allies and foes alike are taking care to give me a very wide berth. I couldnt care less.

I walk unceremoniously into Draupadis tent. Her ladies-in-waiting take one look at my blood-stained face and shriek in terror.

Draupadi leaps up, shocked. Its still daylight. And, youve returned from the battlefield? Is everything all right?

I hold up the helmets with trails of blood running down the sides. Ive brought you Dusshasana. His blood, his heart and his gut.

One of the women slumps to the ground. Draupadis face is very still. Take her away and leave us alone. All of you, she says.

The women are only too happy to comply. Draupadi is still wearing an inscrutable expression. Wash my hair, she purrs softly.

I pour the blood over her head. I use Dusshasanas entrails to finally tie up her tresses. And I use his heart to decorate her hair.

Draupadi looks into the mirror and nods slowly, approvingly. Then she turns to me. There is a hungry look on her face. A lustful look. My heart thuds uncontrollably.

Sit, she says urgently. I obey. She leaps on me ferociously. She shoves her tongue into my mouth. There is a metallic taste in my mouth from the blood that I have consumed, but it only inflames her further. She rapidly helps me out of my armour and rips off her clothes in a frenzy. She straddles me, already wet and hot.

Usually, when Im with her, I try my best to be gentle, acutely conscious of the disparity between my gigantic body and her fragile frame. Our love-making tends to be slow and tender. But today is different. She licks my face. She claws at me. She bites me ferociously. She rocks up and down, back and forth. She shoves her breasts into my mouth. Ive never seen her so passionate. A violent shudder runs through her body, and I feel her inner sheath clamp tight around me. Dimly, I realise that her eyes are shut and shes moaning something. I strain to hear what shes saying.

Arjun, she sighs. Oh, Arjun.

I feel as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on me. I shove her away angrily, almost viciously. Her eyes fly open.

Whats the matter? she asks. Then as if realising what she has said, she covers her mouth with her hand, almost as though trying to force the words back. Im so sorry. I didnt

Her words trail away as I stalk off, furious.

I have committed the ultimate sin, of fratricide. Not once but ninety-nine times already. And, I will do so again. All for the love of a woman. The love of a woman who loves someone else. Even in our most intense intimate moments, she imagines she is with him.

My name is Bhima. The second Pandava. The man forever destined to live in the shadows. This is my story...

Chapter 2

I fell hopelessly in love with Draupadi the moment I first saw her. Rather unfortunate, since her parents had raised her with the specific intention of getting her married to Arjun a fact that she was constantly reminded of. Indeed, she had been told tales of his valour and prowess so many times that she probably fell in love with the romantic hero long before she ever cast eyes upon the actual man.

In all fairness to Arjun though, Draupadi would probably have been smitten by him even if she had never heard a word about him. He is, after all, extremely easy to love. Hes relatively tall which is to say that he barely makes it to my chest but is taller than most other people. Its strange how he can make me feel inadequate even though I tower over him. He has a well-muscled, but lithe body. He is handsome, in a very masculine way, unlike Nakulas pretty boy looks. Hes articulate, witty and charming. And, of course, he just happens to be the greatest living archer on earth never mind what Karna might have to say on the subject.

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