Bhima Approaches the Krodhavasha-Guarded Pond

Bhima saw the pond from a distance and stopped. It was not like the other forest pools he had passed — murky, choked with leaves, shared with animals. This one was different. The water was clear as crystal, and lotuses grew from it in colors he had never seen: deep blue, luminous gold, petals that seemed to hold light rather than reflect it. The fragrance reached him before he reached the bank. He was filled with great delight. The Pandavas had been living in the forest for years now — exiled after the dice game, stripped of their kingdom, wandering from hermitage to hermitage. Bhima had spent those years fighting rakshasas, carrying his brothers and their wife Draupadi through impossible terrain, and waiting. The pond was a gift. He wanted those lotuses. He did not see the guards at first. They were everywhere — hundreds of thousands of them, stationed around the pond in rings of armed vigilance. They were rakshasas, but not like the ones Bhima had killed before. These were called Krodhavashas — beings whose power came from wrath, whose very name meant "those who are ruled by anger." They carried weapons of every kind: spears, maces, battle-axes, swords that caught the same light the lotuses held. They had been posted there by their king, and they did not move. Bhima advanced anyway. He was clad in deerskin and golden armor for his upper arms. His sword was girded at his waist. He carried his bow. He walked toward the pond fearlessly, his eyes fixed on the lotuses, and the Krodhavashas saw him coming. They shouted to one another across the ranks. "Why has this maharatha (great warrior), this tiger among men, come here? He is clad in deerskin and bears arms. Inquire." They did not attack. Not yet. They watched him approach — this massive man in a hermit's garment who moved like a warrior — and they waited until he was close enough to question. Then they surrounded him. "Who are you?" they demanded. "Tell us. You wear the garments of a hermit and we see that you are attired in bark. O immensely intelligent one. Tell us why you have come." The question hung in the air between Bhima and the hundreds of thousands of armed rakshasas. He had not stopped walking. The lotuses were still within reach.