Since some Brahmins from Hastinapur frequently visited the Pandavas in the forest, news kept pouring in about the hardships they were facing. Whenever these reports reached Dhritarashtra, his conscience pricked him for the suffering he had inflicted on his nephews. Often in his dreams, he heard his deceased brother, Pandu, cursing him for his callousness towards his sons. Day and night, Dhritarashtra imagined the sword of vengeance dangling over his head. But he kept these dark thoughts to himself, not sharing them even with his wife, Gandhari.
When he heard that Arjuna was away in the Himalayas in search of some divine weapon, he realized that war was now inevitable. He knew that Yudhishthira would not harbour any thoughts of revenge against the Kauravas, but would Bheema and Arjuna ever rest till they had avenged themselves for the disrobing of Draupadi in the open assembly?
On the other hand, Duryodhana gloated over the hardships his cousins were undergoing in the forest. Wouldn’t it be exciting, he thought, to actually see them living there like refugees? When he shared this thought with Radheya, he offered to accompany him. It was then decided that they would seek Dhritarashtra’s approval to count their cows and calves in the forest.
But when they mentioned this to the king, he retorted, ‘This is not the kind of task for a prince to undertake. Going into the forest for a hunt is understandable, but not for counting cattle.’
‘In that case, I would like to go there for a hunt,’ said Duryodhana, ‘especially because of late, I have been too much occupied with affairs of the state. Don’t I need some diversion?’
‘Indeed, my son,’ responded the king. ‘I wish I could also accompany you on the hunt, but my blindness…’ He trailed off. ‘I assume you’d also take Radheya along with you. I wish you both luck.’
So he had succeeded, thought Duryodhana, in hoodwinking his father, once again.
The very next morning, they both rode out on horses to the forest and set up their camp atop a hillock overlooking the Pandavas’ cottage. From this vantage point, they saw Yudhishthira meditating under a tree, Bheema keeping vigil, while Draupadi was cooking, with the smoke flying into her eyes.
‘Serve them right,’ said Duryodhana.
‘Aren’t they vasus fallen from heaven?’ bantered Radheya.
After gloating over the Pandavas’ misery, they decided to wander about the forest. As they approached a stream, they saw a young tribal woman walking back home after her bath. A beautiful woman she was with doe-like eyes and her long hair fell in waves down her shoulders. In her manner of walking was the grace of a peacock. Her bare shoulders were like a pair of doves, and her taut breasts seemed to chafe under her bras. Both Duryodhana and Radheya were overwhelmed by the beauty of this woman. Duryodhana began to openly lust for her.
‘O pretty face, where are you going?’ Duryodhana asked, leering at her. Then, pointing at the pearl necklace around his neck, he added, ‘This will adorn your neck if you come tonight to our camp, up that hill.’
As Radheya stepped forward to seize her by the wrist, she flinched, her eyes now shooting fire.
‘Who do you think you are?’ she asked, glowering at both of them. ‘If you touch me…’ She broke off.
‘Well, he is Duryodhana, the Crown prince of Hastinapur,’ Radheya said, ‘and I am his friend. But we are both lovers of beauty – a pretty face, a lovely flower, moonlight – anything that sets our pulse beating wildly.’
Her bosom swelling with intense anger, she said, ‘I think you both need to learn a lesson. Let me tell you that I am the daughter of the chief of the Gandharvas here. My father will take care of this Crown prince… Shouldn’t you be ashamed of waylaying a helpless woman? Maybe you are used to molesting women. But it will not work in this forest.’
Before Duryodhana or Radheya could seize her, she let out a piercing shriek that slashed the air. Instantly, there emerged from behind a cluster of trees, a band of tribals, armed with bows and arrows. The tallest of them, who was huge like the trunk of a banyan tree, asked the woman, ‘What has happened, my daughter?’
She told him how the two hunters had tried to molest her. Then, pointing towards Duryodhana, she said, ‘That man claims to be the Crown prince of Hastinapur.’
‘Who cares?’ said the chief, grinding his teeth. Then he ordered his men to take them prisoner.
But as Duryodhana and Radheya were about to be led away, the Pandavas appeared on the scene. They had heard the woman’s cry and the commotion that followed. Bheema almost jumped up with joy to see their enemies about to be taken away, like stray cows. But he felt deflated when Yudhishthira said, ‘No, I can’t allow them to be captured and disgraced. It is a different matter if we confront them on a battlefield. But I would feel humiliated if any third party chose to disgrace them.’ He paused. ‘So, would you, Bheema, liberate them from these tribals?’
Though inwardly frustrated, Bheema brandished his mace and challenged the tribals. It did not take him very long to trounce the tribals and free both Duryodhana and Radheya.
‘I could not bear to see you held prisoner, O Duryodhana,’ said Yudhishthira. ‘Of course, I know that you had came to the forest to see us living in squalor, dispossessed of everything. But don’t forget that truth and justice are on our side. Now that you are free, you may go back to Hastinapur.’
Yudhishthira’s words pierced Duryodhana’s heart like a knife.
‘Oh, the ignominy of being rescued by our arch enemies,’ he mumbled, turning to Radheya. ‘How I wish the tribals had killed me! Will I ever be able to forget the agony of this humiliation? I know it will haunt me all my life, waking or sleeping.’
When they returned to Hastinapur and shared with Sakuni their humiliation in the forest, he tried to comfort Duryodhana, saying that he had not yet exhausted all his strategies.
‘We will get them again, sooner or later,’ he said. ‘In any case, these destitute creatures have just entered the most risky phase of their exile. If your spies could somehow locate them during the thirteenth year, they would be bound to the grinding wheel of suffering for another full cycle of exile. And so would the wheel keep turning on and on. Cheer up, therefore, my dear nephew.’
Although Sakuni’s words brought a momentary smile on Duryodhana’s face, he was still seething with anger.
In Hastinapur, however, the news of Duryodhana’s humiliation spread like wildfire. While Dhritarashtra felt relieved that his son had a lucky escape, Vidura could not muzzle his sarcasm.
‘You should thank Yudhishthira, O King, for rescuing your son and Radheya from the jaws of death,’ said Vidura. ‘What irony that your nephews, whom you have dispossessed of everything, acted as your son’s saviours. I know that you have had no peace ever since you learnt from Duryodhana’s spies that Arjuna was on his way back from the Himalayas with a divine weapon. But there is a weapon far more potent than even the deadliest. It is dharma that lends Yudhishthira greater power than any other person. What if he is not a very skilled archer or dice player! Remember, it is his righteousness and magnanimity that will finally lead him to victory.’
Although Vidura’s forthright remarks hurt him deeply, Dhritarashtra was not happy to hear him praise Yudhishthira so lavishly. Indeed, he was grateful to his nephew for rescuing Duryodhana from the Gandharvas, but if his son and Radheya had been armed, he thought, they would have certainly driven the tribals away.
The next morning, the Pandavas were delighted to see Arjuna walking up to the cottage, holding the Pasupata in his right hand. Draupadi now felt relieved and her face gleamed with joy.