Seeing Hidimbadevi cry continuously and go without food, her son Ghatodgaja asked her, “Why do you cry so, mother?” “Your father has been gone for such a long time and hasn’t returned. Who will take care of us?” “Give me my father’s name and address, mother. I’ll fetch him from wherever he may be.” “Ayyo, what address can I give you, my child? If you follow the track marked by gulganji seeds, you will find your father along with his mother and brothers.” “Then, you need not grieve, mother. I shall bring father home.”
Gatodgaja travelled through the sky, keeping his eyes on the gulganji seeds, and landed in Sambrasura’s city. Sitting outside the door of Kalikadevi temple, he heard voices from the inside.
He knocked on the door and thundered, “Open the door fast, appaji! It’s your son, Gatodgaja.” When he learnt the door was locked from the outside, Gatodgja removed a slab from the roof and climbed in.
Bhimanna introduced him to his mother and brothers. When Gatodgaja heard how they’d been locked up in the temple to be offered as sacrifices to Goddess Kalikadevi, he approached Kalikadevi. “Knowing how virtuous Pandavas are, how can you remain quiet and let them be sacrificed?” he said, dashing his knee against the goddess. Uprooting the idol and planting it against the door, the father and son stood leaning against it.
As per Sambrasura’s orders, the priest arrived at the temple and unlocked the door. But the door wouldn’t open, even when pushed with great force. Even a hundred men couldn’t push it open. Then the ministers and nobles had the royal elephant brought. But the elephant couldn’t either.
The minister then said to the king, “This must be the Maya of the goddess. Let us fall at her feet and beg for mercy.” “Please forgive us our wrongs, mighty mother.” Gatodgaja spoke to them in the voice of the goddess: “Hey Sambrasura, it’s been a long time since I was offered the ritual wash and worship. What offerings have you brought me now?”
“Mother, we’ve brought you a cartload of fruits, another cartload of coconuts, along with milk, honey, ghee, sugar and curd.”
“Get me a dozen cartloads of coconuts, a dozen cartloads of fruits, another twelve cartloads of tender coconut, one hundred and one pot each of milk, honey, ghee and creamy curds, along with a dozen cartloads of sugar. Deliver all these into my temple through the opening on top!”
Having fetched all the things, they built a scaffold and passed each item in through the hole in the roof. The father-son duo kept receiving the pots, devouring the food and belching in content. They persuaded the others too to eat their fill. After they’d finished eating it all, they opened the door just a little and said, “Hey Sambrasura, line up all those who wish for a boon and send them in one by one. I shall bless each one with a boon.” Their swords claimed everyone who entered. The pile of corpses beside them kept growing. When morning broke, the father-son duo came out roaring. At the sight of the two, folks ran helter-skelter. “Hey Sambrasura! Did you think it was Goddess Kali who was speaking all this while? Knowing how mighty Pandavas are, how dare you agree to feed your wife the flesh of Pandavas?”
“Swami, we have erred in ignorance! Please forgive us! We thought these were some homeless wretches. You are all brave and righteous folk. Please save my wife from her suffering,” begged Sambrasura.
Bhimanna then prayed to Lord Krishna. “Hidimba breathes through the child in her womb. It is he who demands the sacrifice of Pandavas. Be on guard!” warned the Lord. Bhimanna asked Sambrasura to summon his wife. Somaladevi fell at Bhima’s feet howling, “I can’t bear this pain!”
“Hey Hidimba, I shall finish you today and perform your last rites,” thundered Bhima. His roar sent Hidimba’s life flying out of the womb. The child was born dead. Somaladevi got up smiling and said, “I don’t mind losing the child. I am rid of the pain.”
Overjoyed, Sambrasura took the Pandavas in a grand procession and honoured them with rich gifts.
The author, a retired professor of English, is a well-known theatre and television artiste and an award-winning translator.
Folktales from the Mahabharata is a monthly column that features lesser-known episodes from ‘Janapada Mahabharata’ sung by eminent folk-artiste Bettada Beedu Siddhashetty; it was collected, edited, and published by Dr P K Rajashekara.