Kunti Justifies Her Command for Bhima to Slay the Rakshasa
Yudhishthira confronts his mother Kunti in private, having guessed she has commanded Bhima to undertake a deadly mission. He accuses her of rashly sacrificing their greatest protector. Kunti lays out her reasoning: a debt of hospitality, Bhima's proven strength, and a higher law of dharma she learned from the sage Vyasa.
Yudhishthira had seen Bhima’s demeanor and heard his words. He knew his brother planned something before they all returned from collecting alms. He sat down with his mother, Kunti, alone.
“What is the exploit the immensely powerful Bhima wishes to undertake?” Yudhishthira asked. “Is it his own idea, or is it something you have commanded?”
Kunti did not deny it. “On my instructions, the scorcher of enemies will perform this great task, for the sake of the Brahmana and in order to save this town.”
Yudhishthira was aghast. “What have you done in your extreme rashness? This is a difficult task. The learned have never praised the sacrifice of one’s own son. Why sacrifice your own son for the sake of someone else’s? You have performed an act of abandoning your son. This is not approved.”
He laid out everything Bhima meant to them. Through the strength of his arms, they all slept in peace and hoped to recover the kingdom stolen from them. It was because of Bhima’s infinite powers that their cousins Duryodhana and Shakuni spent sleepless nights. His valour had saved them from the burning house of lac and other dangers. Their entire hope of reclaiming the earth and defeating Dhritarashtra’s sons rested on dependence on Bhima’s valour.
“What came to your mind,” Yudhishthira demanded, “that you deliberately decided to sacrifice him? Have you lost your senses because of our miseries?”
Kunti’s reply was calm and systematic. “O Yudhishthira, you need not lament. I did not take my decision from weakness of intelligence.” She began with the immediate, human reason: “We have lived happily in the house of this Brahmana. I wish to regard this as our compensation. A man is true to the extent he recognizes a good deed.”
Then she addressed the question of risk. “Having witnessed Bhima’s valour in the house of lac and in the killing of Hidimba, I have great confidence in him.” She recounted his legendary strength — as much as that of ten thousand elephants, proven when he carried them all, heavy as elephants themselves, from the burning city of Varanavata. She reminded Yudhishthira of the day Bhima was born: he fell from her lap onto a mountain and shattered the rock with the hardness of his body. “From that day, I have known Bhima’s strength. Remembering it, I wished to repay the Brahmana.”
Finally, she moved from personal debt and confidence to cosmic law. “I have not done this from folly, delusion, or desire for gain. I have consciously desired to perform this act because it is what dharma requires.” She explained that two objectives would be met: repaying the Brahmana’s hospitality and obtaining great religious merit.
Then she quoted the wisdom given to her by the sage Vyasa. A Kshatriya (warrior) who helps a Brahmana in any way obtains the fortunate worlds after death. One who saves the life of another Kshatriya obtains great fame in this world and the next. Helping a Vaishya (merchant) makes one loved by subjects in all worlds. A king who protects a Shudra (laborer) who comes to him for shelter is reborn into a wealthy family, revered by other kings.
“That is why I want to act in this way,” Kunti concluded.
Yudhishthira heard the full argument — the debt, the confidence, the dharma. His resistance dissolved. “O mother, what you have intelligently decided to do, driven by compassion for the poor Brahmana, is indeed right. It is certain that Bhima will kill that maneater and return alive.” He added only one practical caution: “But the Brahmana must carefully be told that he must restrain himself, so that the inhabitants of this town do not find out.”