Kunti went back the way she had come eighteen years ago, toward distant, by now alien Hastinapura. She went back with five sons and escorted by an entourage of sages. They set out from Satasringa and Kunti wept to leave the asrama in the forest where she had been so happy. They crossed the moun- tains that guarded the hidden valley and came to the lake Indrayamuna, shimmering in the setting sun.
They spent a night on the banks of the lake and went on again the next morning toward Gandha- madana, the fragrant mountain, said to be the gatekeeper to the realms of the Gods. Skirting that massif, they came to the lands of Chitraratha the gandharva. But they met no Elves, who range heaven and earth and are as old, some say, as the world itself.
Coming down from that enchanted country, Kunti, her sons and the rishis finally came to the plains of Bharatavarsha, the young Pandavas for the first time. The princes were overwhelmed and prostrated to worship the sacred land of their ancestors. On they pressed and came to the Ganga. They bathed in her ritually and offered tarpana to their dead father and Madri. After another three days' journey, the party arrived on the banks of the Yamuna. In the distance they saw the ramparts of Hastinapura reaching for the sun.
They forded the river in some ferries, whose boatmen stared at the strangers. Seventeen days after setting out from Satasringa, the Pandavas and their mother arrived at the gates of Hastinapura.
For a while the princes stood there, gazing, their hearts full of their father's legends of this noble city. Then with a deep sense of destiny, which the five brothers shared at that moment, Yudhishtira nodded to Bheema. Bheema stepped forward and rattled the city-gates and their guards came run- ning. Those soldiers saw that no army threatened them. It was only some rishis, with a regal woman, wearing widow's white and five young men in foresters' garb. Their curiosity aroused, the guardsmen opened the gates of the city of elephants.
The soldiers bowed to the seers who accompanied the gracious woman. The young men had to be princes of a great kingdom; they were so splendid, though they were dressed like hunters.
The eldest rishi said to the guards, "Send word to Bheeshma and Dhritarashtra that they have vis- itors whom they must come out to receive."
The soldiers stared for a moment. Was the old man serious that the king and the regent of Hasti- napura should come out to meet these travelers? But they received such a glare from the holy ones that they were afraid lest they were cursed to be born as dogs, or worse, in their next lives. The guards of the gates went to Bheeshma and gave him the sages' message. The patriarch gave a shout that ech- oed in the sabha. He rushed to Dhritarashtra in his apartment with Gandhari and cried, "Kunti has come home with her sons!"
Meanwhile, word spread like light through the city. The people came flocking out from their homes to see the princes and hear their news. Soon Bheeshma and the king, Vidura, Satyavati, Ambika, Ambalika, Gandhari, the sons of Dhritarashtra, in their finery and a royal retinue with them, arrived at the city-gates. They saw Kunti in white and untold grief upon her. Yet she glowed like an arani with five flames around her. Her sons were clad in deerskin, but, unlike Dhritarashtra's pampered princes, they were radiant.
Bheeshma bent to touch the munis' feet and the rest of the retinue after him. The eldest rishi said loudly, so everyone heard him, "You all know that Pandu renounced the world because of a rishi's curse. He was living among us in Satasringa, with his wives Kunti and Madri. Five sons were born to this kshatriya family in the wilderness."
He beckoned and Yudhishtira stood forward and after him, as each one was introduced by that sage, the other Pandavas. The holy one said, "This is Yudhishtira, Pandu's eldest son and the natural son of Dharma Deva."
Yudhishtira bowed, as a sigh went up from the crowd. Bheema stepped forward. The rishi said, "This is Bheemasena, Kunti and Pandu's second son, whose natural father is Vayu Deva. And this is Arjuna, who is the son of the king of the Devas, Lord Indra himself."
As each Pandava prince came forward, a wave of cheering rose from the people. It swept over Duryodhana like a tide of venom. His face grew darker and darker, with a rage he could only force deep down into his envious heart, where it lay ever after as cold murder. The old rishi said, "Here are the youngest Pandavas, Nakula and Sahadeva. They are twins and their fathers are the Aswins of heaven."
