The Last Gift

The Last Gift

Panchali glanced from the coal gas oven towards the brook where her husbands were resting. Nakula was making a medicinal paste to apply on their feet injuries caused due to walking long distances on the hills. Sahadeva and Yudhishthira were quietly discussing dharmashastra. A dog was sitting nearby and listening as if understanding their every word. Arjuna had made an indigenous fishing bait from the roots of a tree. He aimed it grimly into the water, touched one of the flowing fishes with precision and retrieved his bait without killing anything.

Something clenched within Panchali's heart as she watched them. She had never seen Arjuna so upset, the brothers so quiet. They always brimmed with innocent cheer even when they had a war to win. Now they had won the war and established dharma, they had ruled in peace for thirty-six years before passing the kingdom to Parikshit, yet the horrors of the war had never left. Especially the news of Govind's death was too much to take. Arjuna would not recover from it till the end of their journey. His gallant frame carried unsaid sorrow, his eyes laced with unshed grief, only a faint hope to see Govind again when they finally reach heaven glimmered.

The clouds of sorrow shadowing Arjuna's face pricked Panchali, and her eyes brimmed with tears. She wished to see him happy once again. She wished there was a way to ensure that his charming smile never left his face. 

Panchali was so entranced in Arjuna's thoughts that she didn't realize that Bhima was missing. She stirred the cooking pot one final time, removed it from fire and went inside when someone stood behind her with a fragrant hair garland made up of beautiful Himalayan flowers. It was Bhima.

"Oh my queen," said Bhima, "I have brought you rare Himalayan flowers from the mountains. I know you love adorning your hair with flowers, and I wanted to gift them to you on our last day together. Will you allow me to decorate your valiant hair with the flowers of my love?"

Bhima gazed lovingly at Panchali. It was the last day between Bhima-Panchali before she performed her fire penance, and Arjuna approached her. Maybe they would already reach heaven before Bhima again regained his rights. He looked and took in her beautiful features as much as he could.

Panchali stilled at Bhima's words; she realized what she had done. The war might have ceased on the holy land, but her warring heart was still on after eighty-two years of their marriage. She had followed every dharma, every ritual that came with her unusual marriage, she performed the fire penance at the end of each year, she loved and cared for all her husbands. But no ritual could stop her heart from quivering for Dhananjaya, to sting at his pain, to pride more at his bravery, to long for his glances, or to seek out his love even when she was with her other husbands. She discovered her heart was warring between her dharma and her first love.

In her longing for Arjuna, she had unseen Bhima, the man who had given her everything she wanted, who always stood up for her, who loved and protected her, who avenged the likes of Duryodhana and Dussasana for insulting her, and washed her hair with the enemy's blood. She remembered the day Bhima left to chase Saugandhika flowers when she had admired its fragrance in the air. None of her husbands ever did something like this for her. Bhima's heart was as large as his appetite for food. For him, his dharma was his love.

Panchali held Bhima and cried with his heartbeat. She had wept like this years ago when he had got Saugandhika flowers for her. But this time, something about her tears pained him more.

“Oh my beloved husband Bhima," Panchali said, "I do not deserve your beautiful gift. You are the only one who has given me all that a woman longs for, yet I have been ignorant of you. I have been blind for Partha but you have protected me every time and repaid me for the humiliation I had received. I wish I could rectify myself and love you in the same way as you love me.”

Bhima held her in his embrace and let her weep. He knew the pain of parting from one's love. He knew how torn she had felt at the time of her marriage with the Pandavas.

Bhima said, "Oh my dear, I have no complaints or doubts about your love for me. You are one of the bravest women I know, and you deserve all the happiness in this world. Happiness as eternal as the sun, as immortal as death, as tempestuous as the wind, as invigorating as the rain, and as healing as true love. No matter what, I will love you till the end of time."

Panchali lifted her chin to look at her husband. He was also weeping with each tear that left her eye. There was a strange pain in her chest, and longing that she never felt before. The sun was almost set. Panchali could hear her breaths getting shallower.

"My end is near beloved," she whispered, "Take me to the brook. But before I go, please promise to be the eldest in our next birth."

Bhima kissed her temple overwhelmed with love and grief.

"I promise," he said and carried her to the brook.

Panchali left for heavenly abode after seeing her husbands one last time. The fire that once danced in her eyes consumed her pyre. Bhima felt his heart fall apart in pieces.

Agony consumed Arjuna. She was not supposed to leave. Didn't she know he was waiting for her? He wondered if her soul chose this day to die to profess her eternal love with her last fire penance as her last gift. 

"I love you Panchali," he said heavenwards, "I always have,"