Bhima meets old Hanuman

Told in English, Telugu.

Long, long ago, the five Pandava brothers lived in the forest with their wife, Draupadi. They had lost their kingdom, so they walked from forest to forest, high up into the cool mountains of the Himalayas.

Of the five brothers, Bhima was the strongest. He was the son of Vayu, the god of the wind. He could pull up a tree as easily as you pull up a blade of grass. And oh, how much he could eat! A whole pot of rice was just a little snack for Bhima.

One morning, a soft breeze came dancing down the mountain. It carried something with it, and it dropped right at Draupadi's feet. It was a flower, a golden lotus with a thousand petals. And its fragrance! It smelled sweeter than jasmine, sweeter than anything Draupadi had ever known.

Draupadi picked it up and smiled. "Bhima," she said, "look how beautiful this is. Could you find more of these flowers for me?"

Bhima puffed out his big chest. "Of course! Nothing in this forest can stop me. I will be back before the sun goes down."

And off he went, up the mountain, following the sweet smell on the wind. He stomped through the bushes. He pushed trees out of his way. Crash! Bang! The birds flew up squawking. The deer ran away. Bhima laughed loudly. "Make way! Make way for Bhima!"

Soon he came to a quiet banana grove. The path through it was very narrow, with rocks on one side and thick trees on the other. And right in the middle of the path lay an old monkey.

His fur was grey. His eyes were half closed. And his long, long tail stretched all the way across the path, so that nobody could pass.

Bhima stopped. "Hey, monkey!" he shouted. "Move out of my way. I am in a hurry."

The old monkey opened one eye slowly. "Hmm? Who is making so much noise?" he said in a tired voice. "I am old and not very well, child. I was having such a nice rest. Why don't you just step over me and go on?"

Bhima shook his head. "No. It is not right to step over anyone, especially an elder. But if I wanted to, I could jump over you, and over this whole mountain too! Just like my brother Hanuman, who jumped across the ocean to Lanka."

The old monkey's eyes twinkled a little. "Your brother Hanuman? Who is he? I have never heard of him."

Bhima was surprised. "Never heard of Hanuman? He is the son of the Wind god, just like me. He is the great helper of Lord Rama!"

"Is that so?" said the old monkey, yawning. "Well, I am too weak to get up. If you don't want to step over me, then just lift my tail and move it to the side. That is easy, isn't it?"

Bhima laughed. "Easy? Ha! I will move it with just my left hand."

He bent down and took hold of the tail with his left hand. He pulled. Nothing happened. The tail did not move.

Bhima frowned. He pulled harder. Still nothing.

Now he grabbed the tail with both hands. He pulled and pulled. His face turned red. Sweat ran down his forehead. His arms shook like branches in a storm. But the old monkey's tail stayed on the ground, as if it were made of a mountain.

Can you imagine? The strongest man in the world could not lift one old monkey's tail!

At last, Bhima let go and stood up, panting. He was not laughing any more. He looked at the old monkey very carefully. Then he folded his hands and bowed his head.

"Forgive me," he said softly. "I spoke so proudly. You are no ordinary monkey. Please tell me, who are you?"

The old monkey sat up and smiled the kindest smile. "I am Hanuman, the one you were talking about. I am your elder brother, Bhima. We are both children of the Wind."

Bhima's eyes filled with happy tears. He fell at Hanuman's feet, and Hanuman lifted him up and hugged him tight. What a hug that was! Bhima felt his tiredness melt away, and new strength flowed into his arms.

"Brother," said Bhima, "may I see the great form you took when you crossed the ocean?"

Hanuman nodded. Slowly, he began to grow. Taller than the banana trees. Taller than the hills. He grew as big as a mountain, and he shone like the morning sun. Bhima had to shade his eyes. Then Hanuman became small again, the gentle old monkey on the path.

"Listen, little brother," said Hanuman. "You are very strong. That is a gift. But strength is for protecting people, not for showing off. When you crash through the forest and frighten the deer and the birds, that is not true strength. Be gentle with the small and the weak, and always respect your elders."

Bhima bowed. "I will remember, brother. I promise."

Hanuman blessed him. "Whenever you and your brothers face a hard battle, I will be with you. I will sit on Arjuna's flag, and my roar will give you courage." Then he pointed up the mountain. "Go that way. You will find a lake full of the golden lotuses that Draupadi loves."

Bhima found the lake, just as Hanuman said. He gathered the golden flowers carefully, one by one, so as not to hurt the plants.

And on the way back down the mountain, do you know what happened? There was no crashing. No banging. Bhima walked softly, stepping around the little flowers and letting the deer drink from the stream in peace.

When Draupadi saw the lotuses, her face lit up with joy. But she noticed something else too. Bhima seemed different, calmer and kinder.

"What happened on the mountain?" she asked.

Bhima smiled. "I met my big brother," he said. "And he taught me what real strength is."