After telling him how brutally Kichaka had pursued and insulted her, she appealed piteously to Bhima for protection and revenge. She said in a voice choked with sobs:

"I cannot bear this any longer. You must kill this wretch at once. For your sake, to help you keep your promise, I serve in a menial office and even prepare sandal paste for Virata. I have not minded it - I, which have till now served only you or Mother Kunti, whom I love and honour.

But now, I have to serve these wretches, fearful every moment of some disgraceful outrage. Not that I mind hard work-see my hands." And she showed her hands, which were cracked and stained with menial tasks.

Bhima respectfully carried her hands to his face and eyes-and speechless with sorrow and pity and love, he dried her tears. Finally he found his voice, and said thickly: