GOD BROTHERS

Bheema picked up his Gadaa, and walked over to Lord Hanuman, who sat calmly in the shade of the World Tree.

“Ohh? You’re approaching me?” The Eternal Sage smiled, a twinkle in his ancient eyes. “Very well then…”

He raised his hand and opened it, palm upwards.

Bhima paused a moment, a nugget of doubt in his mind. He had indeed intended to find how strong he measured against a legend of the Second Age like the one before him - but now, he couldn’t help but hesitate.

This was the Eternal Sage. The Liege Lord of all Forests, the purported Living God of Strength himself. The Ravager of Lanka, the Slayer of Daityas, the Breaker of Mountains…

… and Bhima’s older half-brother.

As if sensing his sibling’s dilemma, the Eternal Sage smiles. “Worry not, brother. All you seek is to gauge your strength - if I were unsure of surviving this test you seek my participation in, I would have not hesitated to refuse. Do remember - I am immortal.”

Bhima cast his eyes down. “It is still sinful”

Lord Hanuman shook his head. “You take the tenets of Dharma too literally, brother. It would be sinful if you chose to attack me with malice or hate in your heart - for it would only harm you, if not today then later. But for this action whence you chose to merely discover truths about yourself, there’s no sin in your actions - especially when I, the one subjected to your action, have agreed to willingly participate. Always remember, brother: sin lies not in the action, but in the intent.”

Bhima found himself suddenly able to breathe again, which took him by surprise - for he had not realized he had been holding his breath. He looked up at the Eternal Sage, and suddenly he realized it was not the Eternal Sage alone in front of him.

As if shrouding the Sage, he saw an aura of divine light, taking the shape of a humanoid being. As he realized whose form this humanoid aura took, Bhima nearly dropped his Gadaa…

“Brother, are you okay?” asked Lord Hanuman, a note of worry in his voice.

And then, as quickly as it was manifested, the aura around the Sage dissipated. “I-I’m fine, sir, thank you,” Bhima hastily replied, even though his mind was reeling at what he had just witnessed.

So it is true, thought Bhima. The legend is true, he is truly an Aspect of the Supreme Annihilator...

Lord Hanuman smiled. “Then, let’s not tarry”, he said, raising his open palm upwards.

Bhima took a deep breath, then strode ahead, stand right in front of the Eternal Sage. Up close, he realized how huge the Breaker of Mountains truly was in stature compared to himself or his late cousin Duryodhana - the Thunder-Knuckled One easily was a foot taller than them in comparison. For a moment, Bhima wondered in the back of his mind if all the Vanaras of the Second Age were as massive as the Sage Transcending the Swargas.

Lord Hanumana smiled and offered his palm. “Go ahead”

Once again, Bhima closed his eyes as he tightened his grip on his Gadaa. Unconsciously he tapped into the memory of the instructions he had received so long ago from his late Guru, and reflexively his body tightened and then loosened to prepare for the action.

For this test, Bhima wished to use the strongest attack he knew - the Razing Arc. Raising his right leg to position it behind his left one, Bhima raised his Gadaa with his right hand, drawing it backward until it went and touched the ground right behind his right leg. Then, with another deep breathe, he let loose a roar of might and swung the Gadaa.

The massive head of the Gadaa made an arc (hence the name, Razing Arc) as - in a split second - he moved across the air to its target. The speed of the swing was so crack that it broke the sound barrier, unleashing a sound similar to that of a whiplash, as it cut through the air, before finally hitting the palm of the Eternal Sage.

Bhima, a veteran of perhaps the bloodiest war of the Third Age, was not prepared what happened.

The first thing he knew, at once, upon impact was that he had lost. He was no match for the Eternal Sage. In retrospect, he wasn’t surprised. The strength of 10,000 elephants was irrelevant to an Immortal Living God with the might of a Thousand Thunderbolts.

At impact, a shockwave first ran through Bhima’s hands and arms, before seemingly rattling every fiber in his body. For a second, Bhima lost consciousness before regaining his senses. A boom filled his ears, threatening to tear at the eardrums - it sounded like a dozen Brahmaastras had detonated on a single atom of Creation. His vision was filled with shaking shapes and a brightness of a thousand suns.

.

.

.

When order finally returned to his reality and to his senses, Bhima found himself on the ground. The grass around him was scorched black. His armor was in pieces, and in his broken right hand, he held the shattered hilt of his Gadaa - the rest of which was nowhere to be seen.

Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he hoisted himself to his haunches. As he surveyed the ruined landscape around himself, he finally spotted the Eternal Sage - sitting in the exact same spot. A crater had formed around him, the result of the Gadaa’s impact on his palm. But despite the destruction and ruin around him, the Sage’s being carried no sign of the blow. His arm was still outstretched, his palm upwards.

There was not a scratch on the Great Bajrang Bali.

Bhima sank to knees, finally realizing how infinitesimally small he was to the Omniverse’s Grand Design. For a moment, a tear welled up in his eyes - not one of shame or sadness at learning his irrelevance and relative unimportance, but rather the foolish ignorance he and his family carried and the worthlessness of the topics they had worried about for so long, and the bloody consequences they had to suffer in the short life they had left in this Creation.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Lord Hanumana, who had walked over to his side. “Do you want me to heal that arm?” asked the Eternal Sage.

Bhima looked at his right hand for a moment. He had lost feeling in it, but he could say it would return, albeit it would return with tremendous pain. “No, sir,” he replied, his voice inundated with respect. “I thank you for your offer, but it would be an honor for me to let it scar and heal on its own. The memory of its healing shall remain a memento in my mind for our contest, and for you helping me find myself.”

The Eternal Sage smiled at this response. “I see a new mark of wisdom upon your soul, brother mine. I’m glad. Pursue your quest for truth, Scion of Bhisma!”

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