As the Pandavas, Mata Kunti, and Nisha entered the small but warm home of the Brahmin family, the air felt heavy with sorrow. The sight of the Brahmin lady weeping and her husband standing solemnly at the corner filled the room with a sense of unease. Before anyone could ask what had happened, the Brahmin family's 5-year-old son ran up to Nisha, wrapping his small arms around her waist, sobbing softly. Nisha instinctively knelt down, hugging the boy and stroking his head, her eyes filled with concern.

Mata Kunti, with her gentle grace, quietly approached the Brahmin lady, who was seated on the floor, her face buried in her hands. Kunti kneeled beside her, placing her arms around the weeping woman, and whispered softly, “Kya vishay hai, putri? Humein nahi bataogi? Hum kuch madad kar sakenge.” (“What is the matter, daughter? Won’t you tell us? Perhaps we can help.”)

Hearing Kunti’s soothing words, the Brahmin lady’s sobs grew louder, her grief pouring out in waves. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched Kunti’s hand, unable to speak through her pain.

Yudhishthir, noticing the sorrowful scene, walked over to the Brahmin, who stood near the door with his back against the wall, his head hanging low. Yudhishthir bowed slightly before him and asked with concern, “Aap hi bataiye, Brahman Shreshth, kya hua?” (“Please, tell us, O revered Brahmin, what has happened?”)

The Brahmin wiped his tears and glanced at Yudhishthir, his mind torn between sharing his burden and keeping it to himself. He hesitated, unsure if it was right to trouble these guests with the heavy matter that plagued his heart.

Noticing the Brahmin’s silence and the torment in his eyes, Nisha, still holding the young boy, stood up and approached the Brahmin with a soft but firm voice. “Sankoch na kijiye, Brahman Shreshth. Humein bataiye, hum avashya aapki madad karenge. Aur aapne humein sharan diya hai, aapka sukh humse banta hai, toh dukh baantne mein itni kanjoosi kyun?” (“Do not hesitate, O revered Brahmin. Please tell us, we will surely help you. You have given us shelter, and your joy is shared with us, so why be so stingy in sharing your sorrow?”)

The Brahmin’s gaze softened as he looked at Nisha. He saw the sincerity in her eyes, the concern etched in her face. With a deep sigh, he wiped away his flowing tears, finally summoning the courage to speak.

With a voice filled with sorrow, the Brahmin began, “Hamare gaon ke paas jo van hai, wahan ek rakshas rehta hai, jo saptah mein ek vyakti khane ko maangta hai. Aur na dene par poore gaon ko vinaash kar deta hai. Aaj gaon walon ki raksha karne ka din hamara hai, isliye main inse keh raha hoon ki main jaunga. Parantu yeh meri baat sunte hi nahi.” (“There is a demon that lives in the forest near our village. Every week, he demands a person to eat, and if denied, he destroys the entire village. Today is the day my family must protect the village, and I have decided to go, but they refuse to let me.”)

As the Brahmin’s words echoed through the room, a heavy silence fell. His family’s tears made sense now, their grief and fear palpable. The Pandavas listened intently, their faces serious and their hearts stirred by the grave situation.

Yudhishthir, always calm in the face of danger, stepped forward and spoke with quiet authority. “Aap chinta na karein, Brahman Shreshth. Aapke parivaar mein kisi ko jaana nahi padega.” (“Do not worry, O revered Brahmin. No one from your family will have to go.”)

Before the Brahmin could respond, Yudhishthir gestured subtly to his brothers and Nisha to step outside for a discussion. The tension in the room shifted as the Pandavas filed out quietly, leaving Mata Kunti behind with the weeping family.

Kunti stayed, her arms wrapped protectively around the Brahmin lady, gently rocking her as one would a child. “Mere putr aur bahu iska samadhan karenge. Tumhe chinta karne ki zarurat nahi hai,” Kunti assured, her voice a balm to the broken-hearted family. (“My sons and daughter-in-law will resolve this. You need not worry.”)

As Kunti held the Brahmin lady, soothing her with gentle words, there was a sense of relief that began to spread, if only faintly, through the home. Outside, the Pandavas and Nisha prepared to face the challenge ahead, determined to free the village from the demon's terror.

Yudhishthir stepped out of the house, his eyes falling upon his brothers and Nisha, sitting on the grass in a circle. The wind carried the scent of fresh earth, and the rustling of the leaves added a sense of calm, though the tension of the situation remained. He took a moment, his expression serious, before addressing them.

“Priya anujon,” he began, his voice steady and thoughtful, “ham inke sharan mein ek saal ho gaya hai reh rahe hain. Hame yahan sharan dena ka rin kabhi nahi chuka sakte, parantu ham inko aur gaon walon ko, jinhone hame apnaya hai, uss Bakasur se chutkara de sakte hain.” (“Dear brothers, we have been sheltered here for a year now. While we can never fully repay the debt for the shelter they’ve given us, we can rid them and the villagers who accepted us of Bakasur.”)

Yudhishthir’s gaze shifted to Bheem, who was listening intently. “Priya Bheem, tum hi iss rakshas ka vadh bina shastra ke apne bahubaal ke prayog se kar sakte ho aur uske bhay se gaon walon ki madad kar sakte ho.” (“Dear Bheem, only you can slay this demon with the strength of your arms alone, without weapons, and save the villagers from his terror.”)

Bheem, his broad shoulders squared, looked resolute. His determination was clear as he responded, “Main avashya uska vadh karunga, Bharatashree.” (“I will surely kill him, my brother.”)

The others nodded in agreement, but then everyone’s gaze shifted toward Nisha, making her blink in confusion. She looked around, puzzled by the sudden attention. “What?” she asked, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

Bheem chuckled, breaking the tension. “Are Nisha, tum hi toh kehti ho ki har cheez karne se pehle uss karya ke liye sahi chinta aur yojna banana avashyak hai. Bhool gayi?” (“Oh Nisha, aren’t you the one who always says that before doing anything, it’s important to plan properly? Have you forgotten?”)

Nisha smiled and chuckled, shaking her head. “Nahi bhuli, Bharatashree. Bass aap log yun achanak dekhne lage, isliye kuch samjhi nahi.” (“I haven’t forgotten, brother. It’s just that you all suddenly looked at me, so I didn’t understand at first.”)

Bheem laughed heartily, his deep voice filling the air. “Wahi toh, tum badi jimmedar ho. Mujhe laga Nakul ke sang rehkar tumne uski bhoolne ki adat apna li hogi!” (“Exactly, you’re always so responsible. I thought maybe you had picked up Nakul’s habit of forgetting things, since you’re always with him!”)

The group burst into laughter, and Nakul, feigning anger, raised an eyebrow. “Kya? Acha, Bharatashree, ab tak maine aisa kya bhula hai?” (“What? Oh really, brother, tell me, what have I forgotten?”)

Bheem, still smiling, replied teasingly, “Mere bhojan ka prabandh ab tak nahi kiya tumne, anuj. Yeh baat bhool gaye.” (“You haven’t arranged for my meal yet, brother. You forgot that.”)

Nakul grinned and stood up to head inside. Moments later,

Sahadev, watching him leave with soft eyes, added, “Aapko pata hai, Majhle Bhaiya, Nakul toh muh sukhake khana khate the, kyunki aap nahi the mazak karne ke liye. Aaj jaake dil khush hua, hum sabka aur Mata Shree ka bhi.” (“You know, elder brother, Nakul used to eat without joy because you weren’t here to tease him. Today, all our hearts, and Mata Shree’s too, feel light again.”)

Bheem smiled tenderly, affectionately caressing Sahadev’s head. Nakul returned with the food and sat beside Bheem, who had already started eating. He smiled warmly at him and pulled Nakul into a brotherly hug once more, Nakul stood confused for a moment and returned the hug with same amount of brotherly affection. which quickly grew into a group embrace as Sahadev joined in, then yudhisthir and Arjun too joined the hug.

Nisha, standing nearby, admired the bond between the brothers, a soft smile on her face. Realizing she was watching, the brothers exchanged a glance, and as if reading each other’s minds, they gestured for her to join the hug.

Nisha hesitated for only a second, then stepped forward. She was no longer just an observer in their story, no longer the outsider she once felt like. As she joined the group hug, enveloped by the warmth of the brothers, she realized she was now part of their family, their life, and their journey. Together, they stood strong—united by love, loyalty, and shared destiny.