The past five days had passed in a haze, both in Hastinapur and in the heart of the forest. Ever since the infamous Lakshagrah incident, where the Pandavas and Rajmata Kunti were presumed dead, Hastinapur remained drowned in mourning.

In the servants' quarters of the palace, Adrika had fallen into a numb shock. She was no longer able to shed tears, haunted by Nisha's parting words. The moment Nisha had told her not to worry about her replayed over and over in her mind. The absence of her dear friend had left her hollow. The other maids tried to console her, visiting her regularly, hoping to lift her spirits, but Adrika's heart seemed lost in sorrow.

Only five days had passed, and yet, Maharaj Dhritarashtra had already declared Duryodhan as the crown prince of Hastinapur. The people were torn—some supported this decision, eager to see Duryodhan take the throne, while others were still drowning in grief, unable to move on from the tragedy of losing the Pandavas and their beloved queen. The air was thick with unrest and uncertainty.

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In the dense forests far from the palace walls, the Pandavas and Kunti had been walking for days, tracing paths through the wilderness. Sometimes, when their exhaustion grew too great, Bhim would scoop up his mother,Nisha and brothers effortlessly, carrying them across long distances with his mighty strides. His strength was their pillar, and his determination to keep them safe never wavered.

They had crossed a significant portion of the forest now. The trees towered over them, whispering the ancient secrets of the woods, and the earth beneath their feet seemed endless. Suddenly, they came upon a point where the path diverged into three different directions.

Yudhishthir turned to Nakul, his brows furrowed with thought, and asked, "Priya anuj, ab yahan se hume kis or prasthan karna hai?"

("Dear brother, which way should we proceed from here?")

Nakul, ever the master of directions, scanned the paths briefly before replying, "Seedhe hi chalna hai, Bharata shree, iss raste se hum jald hi Ekchakra nagar pahunch jayenge."

("We must continue straight, brother; this path will soon lead us to Ekchakra city.")

Before Yudhishthir could respond, Kunti spoke up, her voice soft but firm. "Putra Yudhishthir, aaj yahin iss vishal vriksh ke paas vishram karte hain. Kal se punha yatra prarambh karenge."

("Son Yudhishthir, let us rest here by this large tree for today. We will resume the journey tomorrow.")

Yudhishthir nodded, sensing the tiredness in his mother's voice. The journey had been hard on her. They all settled down beneath the shade of the enormous tree, its roots sprawling wide like protective arms. The evening air was still and the forest eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant call of a wild animal.

Bhim volunteered to keep watch for the night, knowing the dangers that lurked in the forest. "Main pehra dunga. Jungle kabhi surakshit nahi hota—jangli jaanwar, saanp, aur raakshas yahan hamesha upasthit hote hain."

("I'll stand guard. The forest is never safe—wild animals, snakes, and demons are always present here.")

As Kunti and Nisha lay down to sleep under the cool shade of the tree, the four brothers stretched out beside them, their exhaustion too great to fight any longer. Bhim, resting his broad back against the massive trunk, sighed. His heart was a storm of emotions—anger, frustration, and sadness swirled within him. His rage against Duryodhan and Shakuni simmered under the surface, but his duty to protect his family overpowered everything else.

The night deepened, and though the stars glittered above, the forest remained a place of unknown dangers. Bhim's eyes darted around, ever vigilant, as the gentle breathing of his family lulled the dark forest into a false sense of calm.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its soft glow over the forest. The giant tree under which they all rested stood as a silent sentinel, its branches whispering secrets to the wind. After a few hours of sleep, Nisha stirred. Her body, though weary from the journey, had found some rest. But as her eyes fluttered open, they immediately fell upon Bhim, who was still sitting in the same position, his back pressed against the trunk, lost deep in thought.

His face was etched with frustration, anger, and something deeper—grief. He hadn't noticed her awaken, so absorbed was he in his silent suffering. Nisha watched him for a moment, seeing the pain that flickered in his eyes, and then quietly rose from her spot. She approached him softly, her footsteps barely making a sound on the forest floor.

As she sat beside him, Bhim finally acknowledged her presence, turning his large, tired eyes toward her. But instead of the fiery rage she expected, there was something far more heartbreaking. Silent tears slid down his face. He didn't scream, didn't howl in grief, but the tears that fell spoke of a pain so profound it was beyond words. Nisha, unsure of how to console such a mighty warrior, stared at him in confusion. What could she say to the man who carried the weight of his entire family on his broad shoulders?

Without thinking, she quickly took the end of her pallu and wiped the tears from his face, her voice gentle yet firm. "Bhrata shree, aise samay par aap jaise shaktishali yoddha ko rona shobha nahi deta. Aap itne dukhi mat hoyiye."

("Brother, at a time like this, it doesn't befit a mighty warrior like you to weep. Please, do not be so heartbroken.")

Bhim, with trembling hands, took her pallu from her and wiped away the rest of his tears. He remained silent for a moment, but the emotions inside him surged like a storm, and finally, he began to speak, his voice low but filled with sorrow. "Mujhse ye drishya dekha nahi jata, Nisha. Meri mata, Raja Vasudev ki behen, Kuntibhoj ki rajkanya, aaj is tarah dharti par so rahi hain. Mere bhai, jo Hastinapur ke rajkumar hain, jinhein rajgadde par bhi neend nahi aati thi, aaj kis prakar dharti par kitne thak kar so rahe hain. Aur main kitna abhaga hoon ki ye drishya apni aankhon se dekh raha hoon."

("I cannot bear to see this sight, Nisha. My mother, the sister of King Vasudev, the princess of Kuntibhoj, is lying on the cold earth today. My brothers, the princes of Hastinapur, who could never sleep even on royal beds, are now lying on the ground, exhausted. And how unfortunate I am to witness this scene with my own eyes.")

Nisha's heart ached at his words. She knew nothing she could say would take away his pain, so she simply sat there, giving him silent company, allowing him the space to cry his heart out. Sometimes, it wasn't words that brought comfort, but just being there, a quiet presence in the face of unspeakable sorrow.

After some time, Bhim's tears slowed, and he regained his posture, his mighty frame still trembling with residual emotion. Nisha turned to him, her voice soft but filled with resolve. "Jeevan mein jo bhi hota hai, kisi na kisi karanvash hota hai, bhratashree. Isliye aap royenge toh isse uss papi Duryodhan aur Gandhar raj Shakuni ko khushi milegi. Isliye, bhratashree, aap shok manane ke bajaye apne aap ko sambhaliye aur apne parivaar ko sambhaliye jo khud shok mein doobien hue hain."

("Everything that happens in life happens for a reason, brother. If you cry, it will only bring happiness to that sinner Duryodhan and hakuni. So, instead of mourning, gather yourself and help your family, who are themselve drowned in the same grief.")

Bhim looked at her, his expression softening. There was something in her words that pierced through the fog of his despair, giving him the strength to stand tall again. With affection in his eyes, he placed a large hand on her head, a gesture of care and gratitude. "Tum bhi kitni durbal dikh rahi ho. Aankhon ke neeche gadhe pad gaye hain."

("You look so weak yourself. There are dark circles under your eyes.")

Before Nisha could respond to his concern, a sound came from the bushes nearby. Their heads snapped in the direction of the noise. The faint jingle of anklets echoed through the still night air, indicating the approach of a woman.

Nisha quickly glanced at Bhim, who gave her a firm nod. Without a word, she stood and moved toward her weapons, picking up her bow and quiver of arrows, her movements swift and silent so as not to disturb the peaceful sleep of the Pandavas and Kunti.

She positioned herself near the tree, her eyes scanning the shadows, ready for whatever or whoever might emerge from the forest. The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second, and both she and Bhim remained on high alert, awaiting the next move.

The soft rustle of the bushes intensified, and from within the thick foliage emerged a woman of striking beauty, draped in a vibrant red saree that shimmered in the moonlight. She moved with grace, the anklets on her feet jingling with every sway of her waist. Her wrists sparkled with bangles, and the golden waistband she wore accentuated her lithe figure. A delicate maangtikka rested on her forehead, completing her enchanting appearance. Her beauty was otherworldly, almost hypnotic, and for a moment, it seemed as though the very night had paused to admire her.



Nisha watched the woman approach, her every movement alluring. A wave of self-consciousness washed over her as she instinctively looked down at her own simple white saree, draped hastily in the midst of their exile. The only adornment she wore were the gold bangles Mata Kunti had given her. For a brief moment, she felt plain and inadequate next to the vision of elegance before her. But then a thought crossed her mind—this must be Hidimba, Bhim's future wife.

Nisha lifted her gaze and noticed the woman's eyes were fixed intently on Bhim, as though she had never seen such a handsome man in her life. Bhim, however, did not appear as taken by her beauty. Instead, his eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger brewing within them. To him, this sudden appearance seemed more a trap than fate. His mind raced with thoughts—this could be no ordinary woman, but perhaps a demon in disguise, sent to lure men to their doom.

He turned toward Nisha, his brows furrowed in concern, but Nisha, ever perceptive, gave him a reassuring glance, her eyes closing briefly as she raised her hand, gesturing for him to stay calm. There was no immediate threat. Bhim, though still wary, trusted her instinct.

The woman, however, had shifted her attention from Bhim and was now approaching Nisha, her hips swaying with every step. As she came closer, her voice was soft but curious as she asked, "Ye atyant vishalkay avam sundar purush hain kaun?"

("Who is this magnificent and handsome man?")

A small chuckle escaped Nisha's lips at the question. Amused, she grabbed the woman's hand lightly, playfully pulling her towards Bhim. "Chaliye, milate hain aapko unse."

("Come, let me introduce you to him.")

Bhim, still suspicious, rose to his feet, his hand hovering near his weapon. He shot Nisha a sharp look. "Nisha, isse paas kyun laa rahi ho? Yeh mayavi hai. Iske maya mein mat aao! Yeh koi nishachar rakshas hai jo sundar nari ke bhesh mein aaya hai!"

("Nisha, why are you bringing her closer? She's an illusion! Don't fall into her trap! She must be a demon, disguised as a beautiful woman!")

Nisha, unfazed by Bhim's alarm, smiled softly and shook her head. "Dariye mat, bhratashree. Inse hamein koi sankat nahi."

("Don't be afraid, brother. She poses no threat to us.")

With that, she turned to the woman and introduced her properly. "Inse miliye, yeh hain Bhim, aur..." Nisha paused, looking back at Bhim, before completing her sentence, "yeh Hidimba hain, rakshas kanya."

("Meet Bhim, and this is Hidimba, a rakshasa girl.")

Before Bhim could respond, a stirring sound indicating that The others were waking up, sensing the presence of someone new. Mata Kunti, ever vigilant, walked forward, her eyes quickly assessing the situation. Hidimba, with worry evident in her voice, spoke before anyone could react. "Mujhse darne ki koi avashyakta nahi, kumar. Main narbhakshi rakshasni nahi hoon. Main toh mere papi, dusht, aur durachari bhai ke adesh pe yahan aayi hoon, jise woh kha sake. Mujhe yahan aaye huye bohot samay ho chuka hai, aur ab yeh shresth purush," she gestured to Bhim, her voice now pleading, "mujhe mere bhai se mukti dila sakte hain. Wo mujhe mere ichha ke virudh kaarya karne pe vivash karta hai."

("There's no need to fear me, prince. I am not a man-eating demoness. I was sent here on the orders of my sinful, wicked brother to capture a human for him to devour. I have been trapped in this wretched existence for so long, but this noble man can free me from my brother's cruelty. He forces me to do things against my will.")

The group exchanged glances, their initial fears dissolving as they saw the sincerity in her eyes. Kunti stepped forward, her voice filled with both compassion and strength. "Yeh mera putra Bhimsen atyant balwan aur shashi hai. Hum avashya tumhe tumhare bhai se mukti dilaayenge. Tum nishchint raho, putri."

("This is my son, Bhimsen, strong and mighty. We will free you from your brother's tyranny. Do not worry, daughter.")

Just then, a sudden flurry of wings broke the stillness of the night. Birds took flight from the treetops, scattering into the sky, their screeches a clear sign of impending danger. The ground beneath them began to tremble with the sound of heavy footsteps—giant, lumbering footsteps. Nisha and Bhim instantly stood at attention, their muscles tensing as they readied themselves for battle.

From the bushes, a massive figure emerged, towering above them all—a terrifying demon with glowing red eyes and tusks that gleamed in the moonlight. His roar echoed through the forest, a monstrous sound born of hunger and rage. It was none other than Hidimba's brother.

Nisha clutched her bow tightly, while Bhim stood firm beside her, his fists clenched in readiness. They motioned for the others to stand back, keeping them out of harm's way. The night had suddenly turned dangerous, but Nisha and Bhim were resolute. This was a battle they were ready to face.

It was time. The fight for Hidimba's freedom—and their survival—had begun.

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Courtesy -- pintrest obviously 😁 Hidimba ki entry kesi lagi guyssss tell me tell acha theek hai kuch maat balo bus chupchap padhke chale jao..... (mera mazak to chalta rahega) but guys please vote and comment on this story you can share your feedback and suggestions i am eager to know your thoughts and suggestions pleaseeee.

hope you liked this chaper and have a good day....