“Let go of my hand! I will walk on my own!” Draupadi’s piercing voice echoed through the large, luxurious court of Hastinapur. Dushasana’s ensuing deriding laughter made some of the people shudder and cringe uncomfortably.
In a couple of
minutes, Dushasana promenaded into the court dragging her unceremoniously. She
was dressed in a single garment, a sign she was menstruating. Dushasana dropped
her near the Hastinapur throne, at the feet of Dhritarashtra, the blind Kuru
King.
The shamed and
embarrassed eldest daughter-in-law of the Kuru Clan raised herself from the
floor, her eyes darting poisoned arrows at everyone assembled there.
“What is the meaning
of this, O King? Don’t you see I’m not fit to make an appearance here? Have you
forgotten I represent this family’s dignity and honour?”
Before the king or
anyone else could answer, the eldest Kaurava, Duryodhana said mockingly, “Can
you see your five husbands sitting with their heads hanging down, especially
the first one, the great Yudhishtra? He wagered and lost everything he had
including his kingdom, his wealth, his brothers, himself, and you in a dice
game. You are now our slave!”
“Come and sit on my
lap,” he continued, abruptly cutting off hesitant objections from the Kuru
elders including Bhishma, Kripacharya, and Dronacharya. He leered lecherously
at her and thumped his left hand on his left thigh close to his crotch. A few
sniggers were heard.
Bheema and Arjuna,
the second and third Pandava brothers, rose instantly, their faces red with
anger directed at Duryodhana. But, they whimpered back to their seats when
Yudhishtra stopped them. “We are bound by the rules of the game,” he whispered.
Draupadi's face was
crimson with livid rage. She hollered, “Have the Kuru elders left their sense
of justice and propriety in their private rooms? Have my five husbands lost
their manhood?”
No one answered. The
deafening silence made her desperate.
“One final question!
Did my husband lose me before or after he lost himself? If he lost himself
first, what right did he have to wager me?” Bhishma’s eyes shed copious tears
of guilt-ridden shame. But nothing more!
Emboldened by the
silence, Duryodhana said, “Dushasana! Bring her to me but not before you rip
her clothes out and she is completely naked!” Dushasana moved towards Draupadi
who got herself into a foetal position, perhaps hoping to save what little
dignity remained. Time stood still!
***********************************
I had argued against
the game of dice. “Warriors fight, win, and lose battles and wars on the
battlefield, not by trivial games.”
And yet, I licked my
lips as I watched her svelte, dusky body being dragged in, my groin tingling
pleasurably as I imagined touching her smooth skin.
I resented her for
stopping me from participating in her swayamvar because I was a sutputra. If
only I had, she would’ve been my wife. Now she was with the Pandavas.
She was saying
something. But I couldn't hear her words. Her voice was lyrical. I was alone
with her in a world where we loved each other. Everyone else was lost in a
haze.
Why was Prime
Minister Vidura walking off in a huff?
I jerked to reality
when I heard her question, “Have my five husbands lost their manhood?”
The accumulated
resentment simmering beneath exploded. “Women sleeping with five different men
are called prostitutes in this kingdom!”
I regretted it
instantly. Duryodhana, Dushasana, Uncle Shakuni, and many other Kauravas jeered
and laughed aloud at my scathing remarks.
“Bravo, Karna,” I
heard them say.
I only saw her
staring at me, not with love but with anger. I hated myself!
But my behaviour
was favourable to Duryodhana, my only friend, the man who stood with me against
the entire world?
Don’t I owe him
my loyalty?
Should I go
against the one who crowned me King of Anga, rendered royalty to my name, and showered me with love and affection despite my humble origins, or rather, my
unknown origins?
Wasn’t I just an
abandoned child until he clothed me in Kshatriya respect?
Amid such confusing
thoughts, I felt a strange kinship with Draupadi. Today, the pitiful thread of
forlornness connected us. She looked as lonely as I had been all my life.
A cold chill filled
my heart when Duryodhana ordered Dushasana to strip her. Now I must
protest!
So what if she
can’t be mine?
I love her, don’t
I? Should my love be thus humiliated?
But should or
shouldn’t I wager the happiness of my present family and loved ones for the
sake of my unreciprocated love?
The conflicting
thoughts made me immobile. Dushasana moved toward her to do his brother’s
bidding.
As if driven by a
sudden revelation she unravelled herself from the foetal position and got up.
She stood erect, held her hands in prayer, her face turned heavenward and
called out HIS name!
KRISHNA! KRISHNA!
KRISHNA! YOU ARE MY ONLY REFUGE! PROTECT ME!
The aching voice
that came from the depths of her being resonated throughout Hastinapur and
beyond even as Dushasana began tugging at the loose end of her garment.
Then the magic
happened!
I stood dumbfounded,
watching the scene. Draupadi circumambulated in the same spot, her eyes closed,
hands joined together in prayer. Dushasana pulled her garment. But her
nakedness was never revealed. New fabric magically replaced the one he removed.
In a matter of
minutes, a huge pile of clothes lay next to the sweating and fatigued
Dushasana. And she was still covered in her single cloth, her honour
intact.
HE had come to her
aid when the world stood by helplessly. HE must be Lord Vishnu!
Suddenly I realised
that the Kauravas and all those who stood on their side today, silently or
otherwise, are going to pay a heavy price! Me too!
Still, I will not
leave Duryodhana’s side until my death. I had made my choice a long time ago,
years before I realised I had thrown myself into a labyrinth of family and
political intrigue.
Glossary:
Sutputra - the son
of a charioteer.
Kshatriya - warrior
or warrior clan, higher than a sutputra in the social hierarchy.
This story was first published in Artoonsinn Writers Room - https://writers.artoonsinn.com/draupadis-humiliation/
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