Bhima and Dushasana - The Vow Fulfilled

The battlefield cleared around them. Even enemies stopped fighting to watch. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for—the vow, the rage, the reckoning.

Dushasana's chariot had lost a wheel. He stood now with sword drawn, facing the approaching mountain of fury.

Bhima: "Bhimasena. We can negotiate—"

Dushasana: "We could have negotiated thirteen years ago. When you dragged her by the hair. When you tried to strip her. When you laughed."

Bhima: "I was following orders. Duryodhana—"

Dushasana: "—isn't here to save you. No one is here to save you."

Dushasana attacked. It was desperate, skilled, the attack of a man who knew he was dying but refused to simply wait. His sword found Bhima's arm, drew blood.

Bhima felt it. Didn't care.

Dushasana: "Do you remember her face? When you pulled her into the court?"

Bhima: "I remember everything."

Dushasana: "Good. Remember it now."

Bhima's other hand closed on Dushasana's sword arm. The metal bent. The bone followed.

Bhima: "I swore an oath. In front of your court. In front of your gods. Do you remember what I said?"

Dushasana: "You said— You said—"

Bhima: "I said I would drink your blood. I said I would tear your chest open. I said these hands would be your death."

Dushasana fell. The blood was everywhere now.

Dushasana: "I've waited for this. Thirteen years. Every day I imagined your face. Every night I dreamed of this moment. And now—"

Bhima's hands found Dushasana's chest. The ribs cracked like dry wood.

Bhima: "—now I keep my word."

The blood was hot. Bhima drank—not because he was thirsty, not because he wanted to, but because he had sworn. An oath is an oath. A vow is a vow.

But he remembered Hanuman's words. He didn't swallow.

The blood hit the ground, mixed with dust and glory.

Dushasana died with his eyes open, staring at the man who had promised this, who had waited for this, who had finally delivered it.

Bhima stood. His hands were red.

Across the battlefield, he could see Draupadi watching from a distant hill. Even from here, he could see her smile.

Dushasana: "It's done,"

he said to no one. To everyone. To the dead man at his feet and the living woman in the distance and the years that had brought them here.

Bhima: "It's finally done."

He walked toward the next fight. There was still Duryodhana to deal with. Still a war to win.

But something inside him had quieted. The rage that had burned for thirteen years was ash now.

He could breathe again.