Draupadi- the Tale of an Empress

by Saiswaroopa Iyer

  The guards outside the entrance of the courtroom were also surprised when Draupadi stormed in. She saw her father and brothers stop their conversation abruptly to look at her.

  ‘Father!’ she screamed.

  Drupada opened his arms to take her into a comforting embrace. What Draupadi missed was his discrete nod to Satyajit. Draupadi sat on his lap and turned to face her brothers, all of them sporting a smile. Fake smiles to fool her into thinking that everything was fine. Shikhandi’s smile faded earlier than the others. Something told her that everything was not all right.

  ‘Go back to bed, little one,’ Drupada kissed her on the forehead and looked at Satyajit who came forward. ‘You must sleep now. Else, the boys will go off to ride the horses at dawn without you,’ Drupada added with a grin.

  Draupadi could not protest. She studied Dhrishtadyumna’s face and then Shikhandi’s, letting Satyajit lead her away. There was an undercurrent of sibling rivalry between the older princes of Panchala and she was not a stranger to it. But today, it seemed much graver than anything that had happened before. ‘Tell me the truth, Satyajit,’ she pleaded. ‘Did they fight again?’

  Satyajit shook his head and tried to smile her question away. Halfway through the corridor, behind the courtroom that led to the inner compartments, Draupadi loosened herself from his grip. ‘Something is wrong! Isn’t it, Satyajit?’

  The youngest prince of Panchala sighed. He could not lie to her. She wielded a strange power over the men of the family. Many had dismissed the trait by calling it the typical pampering of the youngest child, something that doubled in magnitude if the last child was a girl after three boys. But Draupadi was very different from a pampered princess. Satyajit feared she would sulk if he lied to her and she found out about it. She was bound to know sooner or later.

  ‘Listen to me, little sister,’ he knelt down, holding her arms. ‘Shikhandi is going away. For good.’ Satyajit saw her pupils dilate and lips part. He held her tighter. ‘We can’t do anything about it. He risked doing something stupid. Stupid enough to earn us the wrath of Hastinapura.’

  To his relief, Draupadi did not make a dash towards the courtroom again. But her limbs froze, and so did her eyes, till tears fell from them.

  ‘Will the armies of Hastinapura attack us?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Satyajit assured. ‘Not if they know that Shikhandi was banished for his folly.’

  ‘Can we not meet him ever? Ever?’

  Satyajit thought quickly. Secretly, he liked Shikhandi more than Dhrishtadyumna. He felt Draupadi shared the sentiment. But there was little they could do now. Dhrishtadyumna would not be of much help. He pursed his lips for a while, wishing he had a solution. ‘Guru Upayaja might know. He is sure to watch over Shikhandi.’

  ‘Can we ask Guru Upayaja to help us meet Shikhandi?’ Draupadi’s voice broke at the end.

  ‘As soon as this matter dies down,’ Satyajit assured her. He saw her rush to the latticed window that overlooked the courtroom, just in time to see Shikhandi leave the courtroom. He shared a glance with Draupadi and they rushed to the terrace of the palace to see the departing figure of Shikhandi move towards the gates.

  ‘I hate Hastinapura. I hate everyone associated with that place!’ Draupadi hit her fist against the wall.

  ‘Not a word about Hastinapura!’ Satyajit covered her lips with his right palm. ‘I beg you, Draupadi.’

  More tears flowed from her eyes. Wrath and grief alternated on her tender face. Satyajit himself was in no position to console the child.

  ‘What did Shikhandi do? Why can’t father save him?’

  ‘Something got into him!’ Satyajit wrung his hands. He dreaded telling her the details of what Shikhandi had done in the frenzied belief that he was the reincarnation of a mad princess of the past.

  ‘Reincarnation of whom?’

  ‘Amba of Kashi,’ Satyajit whispered.

  Satyajit told her the bizarre stories of the past that he had heard the previous day. They were about the princess of Kashi who had been in love with someone else, but had been abducted by Bhishma—the patriarch of Hastinapura—for his brother. The headstrong princess had protested the wedding, citing that her heart belonged to someone else. But when Bhishma had sent her back to her lover, it had been futile as the false pride of the man had come in the way of accepting his beloved. The norms of the day had left Amba at the mercy of Bhishma who had also refused to marry her because of his vow of celibacy. She had then spent the rest of her life trying to woo warriors, kings and sages, to kill Bhishma—as revenge.

  Satyajit then recounted the various speculations about whom she had approached. ‘Father still remembers the day she came to our Kampilya. She was in her sixties, spent with rage and frustration. But the feeling of vengeance had only grown with her age. Mother was pregnant with Shikhandi then and had fainted, hearing Amba’s scream for revenge,’ Satyajit narrated what Guru Upayaja had told him.

  ‘Amba wanted Father to fight Bhishma?’ Draupadi frowned.

  Satyajit nodded. Draupadi guessed that Drupada had rejected her plea, which had made her curse his family.

  ‘She cursed the unborn Shikhandi first. Then, she threatened to kill herself so that she could be born in our household to take revenge on Bhishma. Father asked his guards to take her away. A few days later, her corpse was found in the outskirts of Panchala, in a half-burnt state, allegedly attempting some ritual that had gone wrong.’

  Satyajit bit his lip, realizing he had gone too far in narrating the details. But he saw her listen in quiet pain instead of shock.

  ‘But what did Shikhandi do to bring the past back?’

  ‘He started believing that he indeed is the reincarnation of Amba…’ Satyajit tried, unsuccessfully, to shield the last bit of detail from her. ‘We can no longer call him our…brother.’

  Two

  The Defeat

  Three years later…

  Satyajit suppressed a groan when Draupadi applied the medicine over his wounded arm. The burning sensation, however, did not dampen his elation, or that of Dhrishtadyumna. They had returned victorious. Draupadi looked longingly at their battered armours. Her own armour lay aside, as if it had come from the forge the day before. Dhrishtadyumna laughed, sensing her desire. ‘Not while we are alive, little sister.’ He kissed her on the forehead. It was a rare act of affection and Draupadi gauged that her older brother must have been overjoyed to express his love this way. ‘In fact, those Kuru princes proved to be disappointing opponents.’

  ‘Why did they attack us in the first place?’ Draupadi asked. She had just learnt from Acharya Upayaja that the neighbours on the banks of Ganga had been Panchala’s allies.

  Dhrishtadyumna shrugged carelessly. ‘Their senses had taken leave of them, I guess.’ After a loud chuckle, he looked at her. ‘I am sure the poor descendants of Kurus now have a reason to feel ashamed every time this incident is thought of.’

  Not satisfied by his rhetoric, Draupadi looked at Satyajit. But before the younger prince of Panchala could oblige her, the attendants announced the entry of King Drupada. The king of Panchala was in an even better mood than his sons. ‘Now now, where is the embodiment of all my good fortunes?’ he grinned, looking at Draupadi, who ran into his arms. Over thirteen autumns, she was still his youngest, and he held her as he had when she was a toddler.

  ‘What should we do with the prisoners, Father?’ Dhrishtadyumna asked, earning a frown from Satyajit for worrying over tasks when celebrations were due.

  ‘Feed them well tonight and send them back home wiser,’ Drupada guffawed. ‘Perhaps the cooks at the Kuru kitchens did not feed those poor boys well. Why would they? Their parents, the king and queen of Hastinapura, are blind to the world. The servants must have the time of their lives there! This also explains the folly of the boys!’

  Draupadi looked at her brothers chuckling at Drupada’s rhetoric. But nothing explained why the princes of Hastinapura had attacked Panchala. It was not surprising that her father and br
others had won the battle with ease. The inexperienced princes lacked in all aspects, right from strategizing a battle to fighting in one. She heard her father and brothers discuss the battle in detail; at times, their voices betrayed their feeling of triumph.

  The palace maids appeared, carrying sweetmeats in enormous plates. Drupada’s eyes lit up on seeing the arrangements for the celebration. He brushed Draupadi’s hair tenderly. ‘So, you’ve assumed control of the palace in our absence, little one.’

  Draupadi nodded, pleased. It meant a lot when the compliment came from her father. Drupada was not a tough taskmaster. But he expected one to be committed to the tasks and deliver as promised.

  ‘Even the arrangements at the temple of Lord Mahadeva for the evening worship are done, Father,’ Draupadi beamed. ‘I know that we share the moments of joy with Him before we celebrate publicly.’

  ‘As you wish, Your Highness!’ Drupada bowed in mock courtesy and laughed when she frowned. ‘After all, you are my daughter, Draupadi. I expect you to adhere to what we stand for.’

  Drupada and his sons went for a quick bath before starting for the temple of Mahadeva, at the outskirts of Kampilya, the capital of Panchala. The spacious temple premises had been cleared for the evening worship. Drupada and his children descended from their chariot and entered the temple, accompanied by minimal security. Drupada had learned from his ancestors that one never went to the temple of Mahadeva with royal pomp. The god believed in humility. Drupada himself was dressed in modest clothing and jewellery and carried just a sword. His children had done the same. The priest started the elaborate ritual while the royal family sat patiently, their eyes closed in gratitude and devotion.

  It was Satyajit who first felt the movement behind him. Opening his eyes, he found nothing. He turned back to participate in the puja. But something kept nagging him. Perhaps, it was just a remnant feeling from the battlefield.

  Suddenly, he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Turning left, he saw Dhrishtadyumna put a finger on his lips. There was surely someone else in the premises of the temple. Making no sound, the brothers shared a glance and rose to their feet. Grabbing their weapons, they hurried out of the garbhagriha—sanctum sanctorum—in search of the intruder.

  Draupadi felt a movement behind her and turned. Finding the boys missing, she shook Drupada. But the king of Panchala frowned at her and closed his eyes again.

  ‘The boys are not here, Father!’ she whispered, knowing that they would not leave a puja midway without a good reason.

  Drupada opened his eyes and felt for his sword beside him. Unsheathing the weapon, he pulled his daughter closer. Something indeed felt wrong. He was about to stop the priest and ask him if he had noticed anything unusual. But Drupada decided against it. If there was nothing, he would appear paranoid. He relaxed his hold on the weapon and waited for his sons. There was silence everywhere, except for the chanting of the priest.

  Then, many things happened at once.

  ‘Father!’ Draupadi shrieked when she saw a weapon pointed at Drupada’s neck. A strong hand pulled her away from her father’s side, and she saw two boys—one as young as herself, and the other, a bit older but giant-like. They held Drupada by his arms and pinned him down. Draupadi struggled against the strong grip, calling out to Satyajit and Dhrishtadyumna. But she could hear shouts and clangs of blades outside. The sons of Drupada were also engaged in a tussle!

  Draupadi dug her teeth into the one who held her and bit hard. The hands clenched her more tightly, but did not let go of her. ‘Shhh! You will not be harmed, Princess.’

  Frowning, Draupadi pushed hard, digging her nails into his hands, and almost managed to break away. But he held her arm before she could get far enough to raise an alarm. To her dismay, she saw Drupada, overpowered by the two boys, being taken out of the temple.

  ‘Let us go, Eldest,’ one of them called out.

  Then, the hands let go of her. Grunting hard, she attacked her captor, taking her sword. But he caught it and beamed, patting her cheeks. ‘You father must be proud of you, Princess. But now, be wise and go home.’ The kindness in his voice caught her unawares. Taking advantage of her daze, he slipped away, following his younger brothers.

  Recovering from the daze, Draupadi rushed out, towards the great bell in the courtyard. There was no trace of Satyajit or Dhrishtadyumna. She wondered if they had been captured as well. Even then, they would not have crossed the border of Kampilya. She could still raise an alarm, directing the soldiers in to protect Drupada. But before she could ring the bell, a hand clasped over her mouth. Draupadi fought back, but recognized the touch. More than the strength of the person, shock overcame her. She felt angrier with him than with the strange boys who had captured Drupada. In fact, they had been able to do it only because of this…

  Traitor!

  Three

  Drona and Drupada

  ‘What is happening?’ Satyajit’s voice was frantic. He got no response from Dhrishtadyumna who paced across the hall, waiting for the generals and the wise Upayaja to join them for the emergency council. The brothers, in their desperation, had not noticed the stoic Draupadi who was thinking of something else.

  ‘For all their morals, the Kurus turned out to be backstabbing rats!’ Satyajit added and then turned to the entrance when Upayaja entered. Dhrishtadyumna collapsed on his seat, a multitude of speculations clouding his mind. With the king of Panchala captured by the Kurus, they were soon going to face high demands. In the light of the events of the past few days, chances of retaining his life seemed bleak.

  ‘Crown Prince Dhrishtadyumna, Prince Satyajit, Princess Draupadi! Not the time to panic,’ Upayaja counselled. ‘A war with the Kurus will only cause more damage to the already questionable relationship.’

  ‘Why was he captured when we had nothing against the Kurus, Acharya?’ Draupadi asked, her calmness contradicting her brothers’ emotions.

  ‘The capture was a result of the whimsical demand of the Kuru preceptor Dronacharya,’ Upayaja narrated. ‘In his younger days, your illustrious father and the warrior Brahmin Drona were friends, seeking tutelage under Bhagavan Rama of the Bhargavas. In one of his boyish moods, your father had promised to share half of his kingdom with Drona.’ He paused, seeing the look of disbelief on Dhrishtadyumna’s face.

  ‘Obviously, the promise was not kept when Drona turned up at Panchala’s door to claim his “share”. I was one of those who advised the king against keeping such ridiculous “promises”,’ Upayaja recounted. ‘But the king went overboard in ridiculing the Brahmin over his unrealistic expectations. That did not go well.’

  ‘But Dronacharya must have nursed his anger for long enough to respond this way,’ remarked a surprised Draupadi. Upayaja could not help but smile at her perceptiveness—something that the boys did not possess. ‘His offer to allocate land for a gurukul and extend patronage for life came after the damage was already done to the Brahmin’s ego.’

  Dhrishtadyumna’s impatient grunt drew their attention. ‘Those upstart Kuru princes had come to avenge their beloved “guru”. We taught them a lesson for life. But this has to be the result of treachery.’

  Draupadi looked at him, eager to share what she had discovered during her fateful encounter with Drona’s disciples. Before words could escape her lips, a sense of foreboding stopped her.

  If she spoke the truth, she knew things would get worse.

  ‘The Kuru elders are reasonable people, who will be open to negotiation,’ Upayaja’s counsel interrupted her thoughts. ‘Besides, I think we badly need someone to be back with us this moment.’

  Draupadi turned towards the door. Satyajit and Dhrishtadyumna too looked out for the solution Upayaja was hinting at. The brothers were shocked when a familiar figure strode in. So shocked that they failed to notice Draupadi’s lack of enthusiasm.

  ‘Shikhandi!’ Satyajit rushed down the couple of steps and threw his arms around the long-lost sibling. Even the usually hostile Dhrishtadyumna came forward in an open we
lcome.

  ‘A very unfortunate occurrence indeed!’ the eldest child of Drupada spoke even before he took the seat offered by Dhrishtadyumna.

  ‘Where were you all these days?’ Satyajit enquired.

  ‘Hastinapura. In disguise, of course!’ Shikhandi replied, fatigue showing in the darkness under his eyes. He saw Satyajit and Dhrishtadyumna look at him with renewed hope.

  Like he could save their father.

  ‘As soon as I heard the news, I had to reveal myself to the Kuru elder, Vidura. He assured me that the royal council of Hastinapura had nothing to do with this capture and he would urge Guru Drona to release our father,’ Shikhandi’s words were hurried. The confidence in his eyes, however, evaporated when he met Draupadi’s unforgiving gaze. He broke away from the guilt that hit him and looked at Satyajit. ‘However, it is the noble Vidura’s well-meant advice that we part with a principality of Panchala as a token apology and make peace with Drona.’

  ‘No way!’ Dhrishtadyumna cried. ‘We should demand that our father be released without conditions!’

  ‘It is not a condition, brother. And when will you start appreciating the nuance here?’ Shikhandi chided. Probably, for the first time in his life, he prevailed over the otherwise favoured Dhrishtadyumna. ‘Say, we convince the Kurus to release our father. Say, the good Kurus even manage to do that. In return, that would only anger Drona who will leave them in a moment, and possibly join a common enemy. Maybe Jarasandha of Magadha,’ Shikhandi’s voice assumed a new level of authority with every sentence. The ensuing silence only encouraged him. ‘And that military teacher knows secrets that the Kurus hold dear. Like the strengths and weaknesses of each of their princes, defence strategies and what not!’

  Dhrishtadyumna was about to say something when Upayaja intervened. ‘And we need to be careful because if things happen as per Shikhandi’s speculations, Drona’s angry exit will damage both our kingdoms.’