Draupadi- the Tale of an Empress

by Saiswaroopa Iyer

  But the Brahmin approached the matsya yantra. For reasons unknown to her, Draupadi’s gaze locked on his form. The confidence in his gait—there was something about the Brahmin.

  ‘Can a Brahmin try his luck, noble prince of Panchala?’

  The request left Dhrishtadyumna speechless. The Brahmin turned to look at Draupadi. The pronounced curve on his lips drew a smile from her too. ‘If I succeed, would the esteemed princess of Panchala be ready to hold the hand of this humble Brahmin, who at the moment, has nothing but his skill of the bow, the love of his family, and an undeterred faith in dharma.’

  Draupadi saw the crowd break into laughter. Dhrishtadyumna was trying his best to suppress his grin. She could not laugh. Still locked in his gaze, she nodded. For the first time in her life, the maiden in her dreamt of her future. A future free of political intrigue. A future as a proud bride of a skilled archer. A future as a revered matron of an ashram he would start to train the archers of the next generation. A fulfilled future where she could influence and shape the destiny of Bharata. Her gaze followed the archer who gracefully lifted the bow. The dexterity he displayed in stringing the bow silenced the crowd. Her lips parted at the sight of his arms flexing when he drew the string. She prayed. She prayed for his success and her freedom.

  Freedom to break out of the vicious circle of power games.

  The anticipation that widened her eyes spoke of the arrows that had already struck her heart. Striking the matsya yantra was just a formality now. Only for the best archer alive.

  And he, the nameless youth, was the best archer!

  Draupadi, to her disappointment, noted that the spectacular achievement did not get the applause it deserved. She saw her father freeze with shock. Her brothers appeared devastated and her sisters-in-law looked at her as if a tragedy had struck her. With a smile fading into a frown, she turned to the musicians who were supposed to announce the groom with resounding trumpets. They hurried to make up for the delay. Ignoring the silent pleas of her female companion to reject the suitor, Draupadi took the heavy garland and approached her groom with measured but proud steps. She could see his eyes widen and then fix upon her in a mix of reverence and admiration. His form was covered in dust, his white garments faded with use. Stepping closer, she noticed the bristles of his beard. Most brides, she had heard, looked away in conventional bashfulness. At the moment, she could look nowhere but at him. She felt he needed her to be by his side when the royal world acted hostile at the feat he had achieved.

  She would not let him feel alone, not now. Not ever.

  She promised herself, garlanding him.

  ‘Stop insulting the Kshatriya honour, Drupada!’ The words came from one of the suitors, impudent enough to take the name of the king of Panchala, despite the age difference. Before Draupadi could see who it was, her husband pulled her behind him. Draupadi remembered being greatly annoyed when Satyajit had, in the past, displayed this level of protectiveness. At this moment, however, she was only amused at his enthusiasm. She saw her brothers gather to pacify the angry guest. But the anger only spread from one suitor to the next. Draupadi suddenly felt movement and turned around to see four men flank her. The slight resemblance between them told her that they were her husband’s brothers. Three of them strode ahead of her, while one of them, the eldest, as she realized, stayed by her side. By now, the guards, too, had formed a protective circle around them. But the anger among the guests seemed to rise with each moment.

  ‘Our soldiers shall handle the dissenters,’ Draupadi looked at the eldest brother. ‘I can take you to safety,’ she pointed towards a passage.

  The eldest brother beamed in response and declined her offer with a polite shake of his head, his etiquette making her doubt his origin.

  ‘Worry not, Princess,’ he smiled. ‘If my brothers were not sure of handling the charged opposition, we would not have taken part in the first place. In fact, request your father and brothers to fall back and withdraw the guards too. Let us prove that we truly deserve you in our household.’

  The thought of the five brothers with nothing but their weapons pitted against the angry royals seemed bleak. But Draupadi was touched by the confidence the eldest had in his brothers.

  With them, she felt safer than ever before.

  Draupadi frowned, sensing movement in the humble backyard. She was alone in the small room, wondering what was transpiring between the five brothers and their mother, who had a mixed reaction to the big news. She was taking off her jewellery and smiling to herself, when she sensed a presence in the dimly lit backyard.

  ‘Satyajit!’

  ‘Little sister!’

  ‘Are you spying on your brothers-in law?’

  Dhrishtadyumna joined Satyajit, his face stern and decisive. ‘Enough of this, Draupadi. Come back home with us.’

  ‘Brother…’

  ‘We shall find an amicable way to compensate the Brahmin brothers,’ Dhrishtadyumna declared. ‘We can’t let you walk into misery…’

  ‘Enough!’ Draupadi snapped. She glanced at the entrance where her new family was deep in discussion and turned to glare at her brothers. ‘Enough with these absurd ideas. And with spying on my home like thieves.’

  ‘This is madness, little sister,’ Satyajit held her. ‘You are destined to become a queen, not the bride of a beggar.’

  ‘A beggar indeed! A beggar who took on the entire host of angry royalty and their frenzied soldiers without asking for your help.’

  ‘We promise his valour will be compensated,’ Dhrishtadyumna persisted. ‘They won’t feel slighted.’

  ‘Forget him, I am slighted. By my own brothers, who think their sister values palatial life over a life of austere dignity,’ Draupadi turned her back. ‘Go away, Dhrishtadyumna.’ She stopped in her steps when she saw who had overheard a part of their conversation.

  ‘Go back with your brothers, Princess,’ the woman, who was in her fifties, was gentle.

  ‘Mother…’

  Draupadi saw the woman smile tenderly and approach her. ‘This shack is no place for you, daughter of Drupada.’

  ‘Mother, do you think the daughter of Drupada will shy away from what is right?’

  ‘No, child. Nor shall I let things go wrong. Go with your brothers. I shall seek the king’s audience tomorrow to claim my daughter-in-law.’

  Draupadi waited for her husband, realizing she had not even asked his name.

  ‘Just this night, Princess. For your honour and mine,’ the woman smiled. Draupadi felt compelled to obey.

  ‘For a poor Brahmin woman, she is too regal,’ Satyajit remarked later as he helped Draupadi climb his chariot.

  ‘I think they are not who we think they are…’ Draupadi spoke as if in a trance.

  Satyajit found himself wondering.

  ‘Who are they?’

  Part Two

  Queen of Indraprastha

  Ten

  Kunti

  ‘The sons of Pandu?’ Draupadi’s jaw dropped. Never in the wildest of her dreams had she thought that the assumedly dead sons of the great Pandu and his widow would manage to appear at her swayamvara. She stared at the erstwhile queen of Hastinapura, clad in humble clothing.

  ‘I know that the first encounter of my sons with your father was less than friendly,’ Kunti beamed, brushing Draupadi’s hair. ‘But there are always fresh starts. You, as the bride of the rightful heir to the Kuru throne, will propel this new beginning, Draupadi.’

  Draupadi pursed her lips. The political intrigue she had thought she had escaped was back, putting her right in the middle of the swirling vortex.

  Draupadi was not prepared for what came next.

  ‘The bride of the five famed brothers,’ Kunti added.

  Bride of five!

  Draupadi knew that Kunti would not joke. Suppressing her shock, she stared back at her mother-in-law. ‘I am sure you must have thought of the slander that will follow, Queen Mother.’

  ‘Slander,’ Kunti’s lips curved on
one side as she repeated the word. ‘It follows whoever tries to question the conventions. But you, daughter of Drupada, don’t seem like someone who would fear slander.’ The widow of Pandu looked at her with an intensity that conveyed a lot more than her words.

  Ambition?

  ‘Besides, will you be satisfied with being anything less than a queen? Then, you should be the bride of my first born, Yudhishtira.’

  Draupadi’s eyes narrowed at what she thought was blatant manipulation. But she knew Kunti’s words could not be taken lightly. Draupadi had heard of her tumultuous journey, as a coy princess who had briefly enjoyed the status of the empress of Bharata before destiny had thrown her into a life of uncertainty, misery, and peril. But the lioness of a woman had survived it all, bringing up five warrior sons, all of whom Draupadi had taken a strong liking to. But at the same time, Draupadi refused to play into manipulative arguments.

  ‘Queen Mother Kunti,’ Draupadi leaned forward, ‘a wise survivor like you would know a lot about trusting the right people. When you trust someone to make her a part of your lives, it is also fair that she knows what she is getting into.’

  Kunti’s gaze softened and she clutched the hand rest, almost unwilling to let go of her heart’s secrets. She finally said, ‘Together, they survived. Together, they prevailed. Together, they will overcome their enemies.’

  She saw Draupadi’s eyebrows arch and drop as the younger woman considered her words. ‘My demand is unreasonable. But so are the intrigues that face us, that will face you, if you choose to enter the Pandu household.’

  Draupadi did not miss the subtle emphasis Kunti put on her late husband’s name.

  Why would she say Pandu household and not Kuru household?

  Draupadi knew that the five brothers had been conceived out of niyoga, with Pandu being only their namesake father. It did not take her long to figure out that powerful parts of the Kuru household did not accept them. It explained the fire ‘accident’.

  She could choose to walk out of these intrigues by rejecting Arjuna’s hand. She knew that the five brothers were not petty and would not persist if she did so.

  ‘You can weld them together, Princess. Like the mind that unites and controls the limbs. They would stay bound to your word and not let your honour be compromised.’

  Kunti betrayed a pang of guilt as Draupadi nodded, unaffected by the radical proposal. ‘Of course, slander will follow, my child. But trust the vibrant legacy of our land. We shall figure out a way to convince the conservative minds. There are wise elders who would stand by you.’

  For a woman at the threshold of Vanaprastha, a stage when people renounce material attachments, Kunti seemed too driven. For a moment, Draupadi questioned her own lack of ambition. But the meeting with the erstwhile empress of Bharata kindled a new flame within her. Bidding Kunti a polite farewell for the moment, Draupadi spent the rest of the day contemplating. It was time for the evening meal when she sought Drupada’s audience.

  The king of Panchala was close to ecstatic upon knowing the identity of the winning suitor. Draupadi had not seen him in such a good mood since many years.

  ‘Believe me or not, I always dreaded the day you would leave us for your marital home,’ he beamed, serving her sweets.

  ‘With Duryodhana becoming the crown prince of Hastinapur, the place will not treat you with the respect you truly deserve if you enter as Arjuna’s bride,’ Drupada spoke, looking at her intently. ‘It would be wise to carve out a principality and crown your husband as its king. It will please me immensely to have you both settle down in Kampilya itself.’

  Years of observing her father’s statecraft had trained Draupadi to maintain an unaffected demeanour while her mind furiously decrypted the unspoken intent. Drupada, unaware of Kunti’s proposal, had made his own plans—of somehow convincing Arjuna to leave his brothers to their own fate and possibly make a tool of his son-in-law to achieve his own aims. Drupada, she knew, was not capable of wicked ambitions like Jarasandha. But stuck between the Kurus and Jarasandha, and after losing a significant portion of his own kingdom in an ego battle, Drupada was a prisoner of his own mounting insecurities. Draupadi averted her gaze and carefully gathered her words, ‘The one who weds me shall claim his rightful inheritance from the Kurus, Father.’

  ‘And I don’t doubt his capabilities even for a moment,’ Drupada nodded vigorously. ‘But you, with your wisdom, can see that he will be better positioned to carve out his own share once he is backed by a portion of Panchala’s might. You could be the queen of the combined principality and enjoy the comforts of your natal home.’

  Draupadi did not continue the conversation. Drupada would back his son-in-law with a principality and would expect him to claim his inheritance from the Kurus. The combined principality, as per her father’s desire, would then come under Panchala’s control—his response to losing Ahichatra.

  Drupada refused to grow up.

  Draupadi knew better than to argue when her father was in one of his ambitious moods. She knew she had to dodge his move without hurting him. Giving an excuse of fatigue, which was not entirely false, she retired to her chamber. Probably at Kunti’s behest, Arjuna had not tried to seek her out yet. Solitude helped little when faced with intriguing demands from both her natal and marital homes.

  Strange as it seemed, adhering to Kunti’s demand seemed the better choice.

  ‘You made the right decision, Princess,’ Kunti’s voice betrayed her triumph.

  ‘Pray, don’t ever belittle the complication of this choice, Queen Mother,’ Draupadi made no attempt to hide her scepticism regarding the polyandrous marital life.

  ‘Not for a moment, child,’ Kunti smiled—this time, the smile showed the mother in her. ‘My sons shall be worthy of your decision. Consider this my promise. But I am sure you have thought about some conditions for your own protection.’

  ‘Conditions to keep the Pandu household and its reputation intact, Mother Kunti,’ Draupadi’s lips corrected Kunti’s suggested intentions. ‘You must know that the households where women are given their due survive the tests of fate.’

  Kunti nodded, examining Draupadi’s face—the determination in her eyes, her placid forehead, and the subtle grit in her well-formed jawline. The Pandu household had at last found a daughter-in-law who could take on her mantle.

  ‘People wonder why I insist on calling my sons, the Pandavas, undermining the traditional lineage of the Kauravas.’ Seeing Draupadi’s curiosity piqued, she continued, ‘The Kuru household has always been proud of its legacy, being descendants of the great emperor Bharata, the founding father of Bharatavarsha, Princess Draupadi. But I am not here to praise our marital household. I value our history and the achievements of our ancestors. But more important is the effort to be worthy of our ancestors.’

  Draupadi did not interrupt Kunti even when the latter paused. ‘Pandu could not reproduce. My sons were born by the sanctioned method of niyoga. But after Pandu’s death, their very identity was mocked by their cousins. My sons were told that they were not eligible to name Kuru as their ancestor. They were not called Kauravas, like their cousins. I told them to bear the identity of Pandu with pride, for Pandu, despite not being their biological father, loved the five brothers with all his heart. He had made all plans to return to Hastinapura and claim the throne for Yudhishtira. But…’

  Knowing about Pandu’s ill-timed death, Draupadi gently patted Kunti’s shoulder. But the older woman’s determination overcame any traces of bereavement. ‘They are Pandavas, Draupadi. They do not believe in the oppressive ways of their ancestors! They do not subscribe to the norms which allow princesses to be dragged from their swayamvaras, or bartered away in exchange of political benefits. Pandu dreamt that they would challenge the rotting belief systems of the Kuru household. I want them to fulfil their father’s wish! I wait for the day when Pandu’s sons will be the leaders of the land, more than the so-called Kauravas.’

  Draupadi had heard of rebellious women challeng
ing the hegemony of dogmatic chauvinism from her Guru Upayaja and his wife. But in Kunti, she saw a living rebel, a manifestation of the blazing desire to change the old order. It was fascinating. It was then that Kunti’s face withered.

  ‘Challenging the hegemony of the Kurus is not a straightforward task, Princess of Panchala. The most crucial thing needed to achieve this is unity,’ Kunti paused and turned to face Draupadi. ‘Be the force that binds them to each other, Draupadi. I know you have it in you.’

  ‘Mother Kunti,’ Draupadi spoke, not attempting to hide her scepticism now. ‘You have been an illustrious mother. But what you’re asking me to do is something no mother-in-law has asked of her daughter-in-law. I have some conditions too.’ Her stern demand impressed Kunti, who beamed in response and asked her to continue. ‘The social ridicule or slander that will follow is of little consequence to me as I have made this choice. But your sons must honour my choice at all times. I will live with only one of the brothers for a stipulated period, say, a year. The other four cannot desire me as a wife during that time.’

  Draupadi paused for Kunti’s reaction. But the older woman simply nodded. Draupadi was aware that her demand was not a small one, but it was the only way she could enforce a routine in her marital life, which would soon be ridden with complications. She expected Kunti to talk to her sons once before promising on their behalf. But when Kunti nodded like she had almost expected this condition, Draupadi felt better about the situation.

  ‘I assured you even before you consented, Princess Draupadi. My sons would never let you down,’ Kunti beamed. In that curve of her lips, Draupadi saw the woman who was once the empress of Bharata.

  Eleven

  The Wedding

  Draupadi’s fingers pensively rubbed against each other. And against the soft silk that covered the bridal bed. The wedding ceremony had been unique. Her husbands, Draupadi had noticed, had looked at her with varying emotions—tenderness, awe, disbelief, and perhaps, love. She laughed to herself. Considering the situation, it would take a long time before she found love. Kunti’s truth about the five brothers kept ringing in her ears. She knew she sat upon a throne of immense power.