The Story of Love

Oh! Mother of five,

I know I am your favourite,

Even today you keep aside

an extra plate of rice,

a portion of your share,

even in times so dire,

for me. Bheem --

the one with an unsatiated hunger,

the one who killed Hidimb,

the great demon

with bare hands.

Oh, Mother!

do you think it's fair,

to ask me to marry a demoness?

Her form is like a Sal tree,

Her hair – thick and tangled,

Her feet – so large,

that she could measure the universe

in two strides.

Kunti, the mother of the valiant warrior,

Was relieved, for her son had not mentioned

Love, or no Love for Hidimbi the demoness

who was now the queen of these dwellings,

Who would provide for them in

these times of despair

But, she also felt deep anguish,

At her son's perceived notions,

Of beauty.

Hidimbi is more than you deserve.

Intelligent,

fierce,

courageous,

and the blood of royalty,

which ruled these forests

from time immemorial.

She will give you a son,

Of unmatched valour,

a son who will be as devoted to you,

as you are

to me.

And then we will leave.

No more words were said,

And a lot was left unsaid.

Bheem and Hidimbi wed,

that same night.

Bheem knew no love like Hidimbi's,

Bheem knew no beauty like Hidimbi's

Both hunted the doe,

plucked the wild fruits,

cooked food, and

fed the family together.

Now Bheem knew love,

and it worried his mother.

When the time was ripe,

a son was born,