Neev:
 Twelve years in exile…
 You’d think time would drag, but the forest kept throwing surprises.
 Some of them… came in the form of stories.
 Stories that weren’t just entertaining — they were warnings, life lessons, and sometimes, mind-benders.

Co-host:
 And not just bedtime tales!
 Today’s stories are wild. We’ve got one about a student who tries to outsmart the system…
 …another about a sage whose anger literally sets the forest on fire…
…and a king who volunteers for a bird buffet. 😳

Twelve years in exile is a long time — and a lot of stories to cover — so I brought reinforcements!” We are going to be joined by many of our Mythical Masala listeners! 

Neev:
 Yes, I am very excited for these stories. 

Each story left a mark on the Pandavas — especially Yudhishthira.
 Because when your whole life has fallen apart, sometimes the only way to rebuild it…
 …is to listen. And learn.

Co-host:
 Let’s jump into the first one. A boy who wants power — fast. And doesn’t want to work for it.

Neev: Now, welcome Neel who’s joining me to tell the story of Yavakrida — a boy who thought he could take a shortcut

Neev:
 You know what’s hard?
 Spending years studying, reading, memorizing verses, listening to teachers... It's a lot.

Co-host:
 Sounds like finals week at Gurukul High. 😅

Neev:
 Exactly!
 But there was one kid — Yavakrida — who thought:
 “What if I could just… pray my way to wisdom?”

Co-host:
 Skip the hard work? I like his thinking already.

Neev:
 Yavakrida was the son of a noble Brahmana named Bharadwaja. But he was jealous — not of power or gold — but of something else.

Co-host:
 Ooh, let me guess... someone else's report card?

Neev:
 Pretty much!
 Raibhya — another Brahmana — was super respected. Wise, calm, and always surrounded by students.
 Yavakrida couldn’t stand how everyone looked up to him, instead of his own father.

So he came up with a bold plan.

He went into the forest and began a long, intense penance. Days. Weeks. Months.
 He prayed only for one thing: “Indra, please make me the most learned man alive!”

Co-host:
 Wait… Indra? That’s the king of the gods! He’s got storms to run!

Neev:
 And yet… Indra appeared!
 Impressed by Yavakrida’s devotion.

But he wasn’t so impressed by the request.

Co-host (mocking Indra):
 “Uh, you want what? Just skip years of school? Hard pass.”

Neev:
 Indra told him:
 “Knowledge comes through study. Not shortcuts.”

But Yavakrida was stubborn. He kept praying. Again. And again.

So Indra gave him… a lesson.

One day, Yavakrida saw an old man by the river.

Co-host:
 Chillin’?

Neev:
 Not quite.
 He was… scooping sand with his hands and tossing it into the water.

Yavakrida stared. “What are you doing?!”

The old man looked up calmly and said:
 “I’m building a bridge across the river.”

Co-host:
 Using... sand? That’s gonna take a while, uncle.

Neev (chuckling):
 Exactly what Yavakrida said. He laughed.
 “This is pointless!” he said.

And the old man slowly transformed — glowing, rising into the sky — into Indra.

He looked down and said,
 “Exactly. That’s what your penance is like.”

Co-host (softly):
 Oof. That’s deep.

Neev:
 Yavakrida realized the truth.
 Wishing for knowledge was like building a bridge out of sand.

Some things can’t be fast-tracked.

Co-host:
 So what happened next? Did he finally hit the books?

Neev:
 Not... quite.
 Because Yavakrida’s pride? Wasn’t done yet.

Neev:
 So after all that… Yavakrida finally sat down and started studying.
 And guess what?
 He got really good at it.

Co-host:
 Like… honor student with a glowing forehead kind of good?

Neev:
 Exactly! Word spread — “Yavakrida the Wise!”
 But you know what else spread?

Co-host:
 His ego. I can feel it from here.

Neev:
 You’re not wrong.
 He was walking around like he invented the Vedas.
 And his father, Bharadwaja, noticed.

So one evening, Bharadwaja sat him down and said,
 “Son… let me tell you the story of another boy — Medhavi.”

Co-host:
 Ooh, a story inside a story! Love it.

Neev:
 Once upon a time, there was a sage named Baladhi, who was devastated by the death of his son.
 He prayed, he fasted, he did all the penance he could — just to ask the gods for a son who would never die.

Co-host:
 Let me guess… the gods said no?

Neev:
 Kind of.
 They said: “No one can live forever. But… you can choose how long he lives.”

So Baladhi pointed to a mountain nearby and said,
 “Let my son live as long as that mountain stands.”

And thus, Medhavi was born.

Co-host:
 Let me guess… he turned into a total brat?

Neev:
 More than that — he knew about the boon.
 So he strutted around, mocking sages, showing off, being rude — all because he thought he was invincible.

One day, he insulted a wise old sage named Dhanushaksha.

Co-host:
 That name sounds dangerous already. I’d be polite.

Neev:
 Well, Medhavi wasn’t. So the sage cursed him:
 “You shall be reduced to ashes!”

But… nothing happened.

Co-host (mock gasp):
 The curse didn’t work?!

Neev:
 Because of the boon.
 As long as that mountain stood, Medhavi couldn’t die.

So Dhanushaksha got clever.
 He turned himself into a bull, charged at the mountain… and rammed it.

Co-host:
 Wait, what? Just started headbutting a mountain?!

Neev:
 Again. And again. Until finally…
 CRASH. The mountain broke.

And with it… Medhavi’s protection was gone.

Co-host:
 Boom. Pride turned to ashes.

Neev:
 Yup.
 Yavakrida sat in stunned silence after hearing the story.
 Because sometimes, a little wisdom… isn’t enough.
 You need humility too.

Neev:
 You’d think the story of Medhavi — the boy who thought he was immortal — would’ve knocked some sense into Yavakrida.

Co-host:
 Yeah! Mountain falls, ego falls. Message received, right?

Neev:
 Wrong.

Yavakrida may have become wise through study…
 But wisdom without humility? That’s just a recipe for disaster.

Co-host:
 Uh-oh. What did he do now?

Neev:
 One day, against every warning from his father, Yavakrida did something terrible.
 He tried to harm the daughter-in-law of Sage Raibhya.

Co-host:
 What?! That’s not just pride. That’s plain evil.

Neev:
 It was the final straw.

Raibhya, heartbroken and enraged, decided to respond — not with violence… but with creation.
 Using the power of his penance, he summoned two beings:
 a beautiful maiden… and a terrifying demon.

Co-host:
 Wait. He created them?

Neev:
 Yes — with pure spiritual energy.
 He sent them to end Yavakrida’s story.

Yavakrida was in the middle of performing a sacred ritual — a yajna — when the maiden approached.

Co-host:
 Oh no. Was it a trick?

Neev:
 Absolutely.
 She flirted, danced around him… and then stole his water jug — the very water he needed to purify himself before chanting his mantras.

Co-host:
 Uh-oh. You can’t do the rituals without cleansing first, right?

Neev:
 Exactly.
 Suddenly — a demon appeared, thundering toward him with a spear.

Panicked, Yavakrida tried to run.
 He searched for water, stumbled, chanted broken mantras, begged for help…

But none came.

The demon’s spear struck true.

Co-host:
 Whoa… that’s how he died?

Neev:
 Yes. Not from lack of knowledge.
 Not because he wasn’t powerful.

But because of arrogance, impurity, and disrespect.

When his father Bharadwaja heard what had happened, he was devastated.
 He realized that his own anger at Raibhya had fanned this fire.

So he did what most wouldn’t expect…

He chose to give up his life, too.

Co-host:
 That’s… tragic.

Neev:
 In the forest, that day, a silence fell.
 One that carried a lesson:
 Penance means nothing without purity.
Power means nothing without humility.

Neev:
So this Sage Raibhya — the one who summoned beings to destroy Yavakrida

Co-host:
 Yup. Powerful sage. Two sons. So what happened to them?

Neev:
 That’s where this next story takes us — to the kingdom of King Brihadyumna, where Raibhya’s sons, Paravasu and Arvavasu, were invited to perform a great sacrifice.

Co-host:
 So both brothers were priests?

Neev:
 Very learned. But only one had wisdom in his heart.

Paravasu left the palace to return briefly to the forest ashram.
 On the way, he saw movement in the shadows… and shot an arrow.

Co-host:
 Nooo… don’t say it.

Neev:
 It wasn’t an animal.
 It was Raibhya — his own father — who had taken another form due to Bharadwaja’s curse.

Co-host:
 He accidentally killed his own father?!

Neev:
 Heartbroken, Paravasu rushed back to the palace and confessed everything to Arvavasu.
 And do you know what Arvavasu said?

Co-host (softly):
 “I’ll take the blame…”

Neev:
 Exactly.

“I’ll do the final rites,” he said.
 “I’ll take on the penance. You stay and complete the king’s sacrifice.”

Co-host:
 Wow. That’s… kind.

Neev:
 But not everyone sees kindness for what it is.

While Arvavasu was away, Paravasu let jealousy slither into his mind.
 He told everyone his brother had killed their father.

Co-host:
 No! After he was the one who messed up?

Neev:
 That’s the thing about ego.
 It doesn’t care about truth — it only cares about how you look.

Arvavasu was cast out, dishonored, his name dragged through mud.

But he didn’t get angry.

Co-host: Really? I’d be so mad!

Neev:
 He didn’t try to fight it.

He just turned to the gods… and prayed.

Not for revenge.

Not even for justice.

But for peace.
 “Take away my anger,” he asked.
 “Bring my father back to life — not for me, but so my brother may be free of sin.”

Co-host:
 I… have no words. That’s the real power, isn’t it?

Neev:
 Yes. Quiet, fierce, forgiving power.

And the gods listened.
 Raibhya was restored.
 And Paravasu’s guilt, burned away by his brother’s love.

Neev:
 Our final story in today’s episode is one of the most powerful examples of what it truly means to protect the weak. 

This is the story of King Shibi, ruler of the Bharata dynasty — yes, the same lineage that the Pandavas belong to.

Co-host:
 Wait, the same Bharata family? That’s wild — so what did he do?

Neev:
 Shibi was famous throughout the land for two things:
 ✨ His justice.
 ✨ And his unbreakable word.

So the gods decided to test him.

Co-host: What’s up with the Gods wanting to test everyone! They just sound like my teachers.

Neev: Agni, the god of fire, disguised himself as a terrified dove, and flew straight into the king’s court, pleading:

“O great king! I seek your protection!”

And behind him?
 A fierce eagle — who was none other than Indra, king of the gods.

The eagle demanded:

“That dove is my prey. He is my food. You have no right to protect him.”

Co-host:
 Oof. That’s a tough one. I mean… both are kind of right?

Neev:
 Exactly. King Shibi thought so too.

He said, “The dove has taken refuge with me. I must protect him. But I also cannot deny your hunger.”

So he made a decision.
 A shocking, powerful, impossible decision.

“I will give you my own flesh, equal to the dove’s weight,” he said.

Co-host:
 Whaaat?! He offered his own body?!

Neev:
 He called for a scale.
 Placed the trembling dove on one side…
 …and then, from his own right thigh, began cutting meat.

The scale didn’t balance.

Co-host: Nooooo

Neev:

He cut more. Then switched to the left side.

Still didn’t balance.

The king was pale, covered in blood, but he didn’t stop. And not one tear fell from his eyes.

Co-host (softly):
 That’s… beyond anything. What kind of twisted tests are these?

Neev:
 That’s when the gods appeared — dropping their disguises.

Co-host: Did they have to wait so long.

Neev:

Agni and Indra blessed Shibi:

“You have passed. Your courage, your compassion, your justice — it shines like the sun. May your name live forever.”

Co-host: And it does. Even now.

Neev: From Yavakrida’s pride to King Shibi’s sacrifice…
 …these stories weren’t just entertainment during exile.
 They were mirrors — showing the Pandavas, and all of us, what it means to walk the path of dharma.

Co-host:
 Yeah — every tale had a lesson.

Neev:
 And remember, these stories were preparation.
 Because what’s ahead for the Pandavas… will test everything they’ve learned.

Co-host:
Thank you to our guest co-hosts (names) for taking us through these stories. 

Neev:

 So stay tuned.
 Because next week, we’re diving into even more wild, wise, and totally unexpected tales from their time in exile.

 Until then —
 Keep listening.
 Keep learning.
 And stay mythically curious.