‘The descendants of Kurus even managed to break the Yadava confederacy into two!’ Draupadi remarked, her face reflecting the anguish that Krishna had suppressed within himself.
‘People make their choices, Sakhi,’ he beamed. He had distanced himself from these squabbles. ‘At times, a conflict proves greatly useful in serving one’s own interests. At times, it gives people the excuse to claim their own stakes and fight their own conflicts from the shadows.’
‘Your father, the king of Panchala, offered to send his priest as the emissary to Hastinapura after the wedding of Abhimanyu,’ Krishna informed her.
Draupadi laughed. ‘Like an emissary would make a difference, Krishna! Had they been receptive to diplomacy, they would not have attacked Matsya like a gang of robbers to smoke us out of our disguise. And my father is not a fool to not have assessed that,’ she pointed out. ‘The emissary must be a ruse. This priest is going to collect information about the preparations in the Kuru capital and convey it back to us.’
Krishna’s fists curled for a moment. ‘It looks like it has come to the worst. Doesn’t it?’
‘At times, we have to give up the present to secure something for the future,’ Draupadi sighed, staring into space. ‘If it turns into a final confrontation, I have a favour to ask of you, Sakha. Don’t fight on the battlefield.’
‘Why so, Sakhi?’ Krishna’s eyes were devoid of all emotions.
Draupadi leaned back against the pile of cushions behind her and gazed at the high ceiling. ‘You will fight to end it all and that will lead to a terror the world is not prepared to see. That is not the Krishna I want to see.’ Training her eyes back to meet his, she felt her heart miss a bit at what she saw in his eyes. A glimpse of the terror he would unleash if he took up a weapon.
‘Instead, let us all divide our responsibilities!’ she briefly assumed the air of the empress that he used to tease her about in their younger days and then turned solemn. ‘Fatiguing as it is, I have remained the driving force behind the five brothers, and you, the guiding force. We both know they are great as doers. They excel in execution. Let them fight it to the end. I dread disturbing this balance between us, Sakha!’
Krishna’s eyes betrayed admiration—at the fondness she had displayed, even while taking the toughest decision, manoeuvring through the delicate knots of relationships, polity, and something that risked extinction in the present circumstances—dharma. Then his eyes turned grave. Graver than she had ever seen them before. ‘War, if and when it comes to that, needs us to subject our willpower to the worst of tests, Sakhi.’ Lowering his tone, he added, ‘Yudhishtira is not yet ready for that!’
Draupadi nodded and wrung her hands. ‘He gets caught in resisting the inevitable.’ She then reminded him about the multiple times during their exile when Yudhishtira himself had warned her of a violent war that would unleash horror. She smiled and saw Krishna smile too.
He had thought of a way out!
The wedding of Abhimanyu and Uttara was an event that brought together every family that cared for the five brothers under one roof. It was a much-awaited celebration, and brought great cheer. Though sceptical of the future, the bride and groom began to work on their own relationship. The fact that the elders were too preoccupied with the political uncertainty gave them the time and space to adapt to each other.
As predicted, Drupada’s priest carried out the diplomatic mission and returned with the message that the sons of Dhritarashtra were rejecting the Pandavas’ claim to the empire. Some of the reasons cited were flimsy and inaccurate, like their accusation that Arjuna had come out of incognito before the term of exile. However, multiple astrologers who knew calculations of time had dismissed this allegation.
It boiled down to each side canvassing the length and breadth of Bharatavarsha, trying to raise forces that they hoped would intimidate the other side. For many kings who were obliged to one of the two sides due to marital bonds, it was a fairly simple decision to make. But a grave dilemma was faced by those kings who were related to both sides. Yudhishtira resolved to reach out to every ally. After all, they had been ready to surround Hastinapura and raze it to the ground thirteen years ago.
‘Thirteen years is a long time. We might not have the support of even half of them,’ Nakula had voiced his apprehension then. His fears had come true and the support to the sons of Dhritarashtra had increased with time. Some with marital alliance, some with military campaigns, some with diplomatic outreach, Hastinapura had managed to garner a steady support for itself. However, the loyal allies of the sons of Pandu had also stayed on. The five brothers travelled again to all corners of Bharatavarsha, at times facing bizarre and twisted narratives of what had taken place in the Jayanta Sabha.
The most ridiculous one that Draupadi heard was from a warlord of the southern provinces who had changed his loyalties citing his respect for women and disappointment with Yudhishtira as the latter had gambled away his wife as if she was his property. It didn’t make sense that he had then sided with those who had dragged her by her hair to the sabha, had called her characterless, ordered her disrobing, and had wanted her to sit naked upon their laps. She had been a witness to how her husbands had behaved with the wife of the enemy when she had been defenceless—the argument did not make sense.
‘Don’t even bother convincing the imbecile!’ she hissed at an equally perplexed Sahadeva. ‘Those who change loyalties with twisted arguments of dharma and then pretend to take the moral high ground aren’t worth fighting by our side. Remember to kill him on the very first day and tell him that it is the punishment for daring to side with those barbarians, taking my name as an excuse!’
‘He is not worth fighting by our side. And he is not even worth your anger, Draupadi,’ Sahadeva smiled, brushing her cheeks that had flushed in rage.
‘They are the pseudo guardians of morality, Sahadeva. These low lives behave like flag bearers of morality while no aspect of that gets inside their hard skulls. The earth is better off without them!’
‘By Goddess Gauri, I haven’t seen you ever curse Duryodhana the way you are lashing out at the nameless bloke, Elder Sister,’ Subhadra held Draupadi’s shaking arm.
‘They are using my name and the ordeal I faced as an excuse to side with my enemy against me, Subhadra! How vicious can one get?’
‘More like sold out,’ Subhadra shrugged, ‘possibly to some gold thrown by Duryodhana. As you said, such “flag bearers” of—what was that—“respect for women” actually end up harming our kind if trusted.’ Eager to change the topic, she turned to Sahadeva. ‘Isn’t Arjuna expected soon?’
‘He should have returned from Dwaraka by now,’ Sahadeva thought aloud and walked up to the spacious western balcony, expecting to see his brother return.
‘Subhadra, I thought you would have liked to accompany Arjuna to Dwaraka,’ Draupadi asked.
Subhadra’s face twisted in anguish. ‘I have been there for thirteen long years, Elder Sister,’ she started, suppressing her tears. ‘They have been ungrateful to my brother. How will they remember me, his sister! Anyway, I sent a message that I shall step into Dwaraka only after seeing my husband destroy the enemy. They will understand and side with him if they want to please me.’
Neither Draupadi nor Sahadeva said anything, each of them trying to imagine how Subhadra must have battled the intrigues at her own natal home. It was easier to battle an enemy.
How could a woman take it when her own family turned against her?
A guard broke their silence. Arjuna had returned. With Krishna and his dear mentee, Satyaki, followed by a division of Satyaki’s private army, which by no means was small in size or valour. Draupadi sighed with relief.
Later during the day, she heard Yudhishtira express surprise at Krishna’s sudden decision to not wield a weapon during the war.
‘Did he not promise you that day, that each of your tears would claim a life?’
‘That was his way of warning me to not shed more tears, Yudhishtira,�
�� Draupadi replied with a nod. She decided against disclosing her discussion with Krishna.
‘Possibly because a large contingent of the Yadava warriors have also joined Duryodhana under the leadership of Kritavarma,’ Yudhishtira was still trying to reason. ‘Krishna had once risked everything—his life, his reputation—to save them all from the wrath of Jarasandha. How can he lift a weapon against the ones he saved?’ he asked Draupadi, who listened, betraying no emotions. ‘It would be unfair of us to even expect him to do that, Draupadi. How did I turn this selfish?’
The lines of trouble lingered on Yudhishtira’s forehead even after the conversation veered to other issues, mainly pertaining to the logistics of war. Strategizing for a battle was something in which Yudhishtira indulged with all his heart and soul, something that retained Draupadi’s awe even after over two decades of their wedding. But this time, Yudhishtira kept returning to the topic of Krishna’s abstinence from fighting.
‘That is why Krishna attempted to secure a peaceful resolution one last time, Samragni.’
‘Did he?’ Draupadi asked. This was new to her.
‘He did! A last attempt to save his people on both sides. The least I can do is make his task easier by offering a compromise! Draupadi, we transformed a land that was barren and wild into a magnificent province and built what became the capital of all of Bharata. We don’t require an empire. We can do with a confederacy of five principalities!’
Draupadi looked up, shock rendering her speechless for a long moment.
Was this the same Yudhishtira who had once asked her to prepare for the worst, with a chilling certainty?
‘Did you say compromise, Samrat?’
But by that time, Yudhishtira was already on his feet. ‘Five principalities would do. Let the four of them enjoy autonomy without being under the obligation to do as I bid. Everyone’s suffered enough,’ he left the room without seeking her approval—one of the rare times.
‘What in the name of all gods was that?’ she exclaimed and looked at Sahadeva who had been a mute listener to their conversation all this time.
Sahadeva had nothing to say either.
‘Tell me I dreamt it all! Tell me it is some apparition impersonating Yudhishtira!’
‘Draupadi, calm down,’ he held her arm in a bid to comfort her. But it was beyond him. All he could do was follow Yudhishtira and try undoing any damage his eldest would wreak again in the name of some meaningless compromise.
It was a painful couple of weeks for Draupadi. When the war stood at their threshold, with a number of loyal allies ready to offer their kingdoms, wealth and even lives to see Yudhishtira reinstated as the emperor again, the eldest Pandava had resorted to some self-deprecating compromise in the name of ‘statesmanship’!
Complicating the situation further, Krishna had gone to Hastinapura, carrying that pointless message.
As if anyone in that court of barbarians and imbeciles would know to respect the stance! Men can be so disappointing.
More than six weeks after Krishna had left Upaplavya, the messengers came, conveying that Krishna’s return journey had ‘failed’ to secure peace. What he had to endure at the sabha at Hastinapura was beyond disturbing.
‘Brutes! Monsters!’ Yudhishtira snapped. He dismissed the messenger after he informed him that Krishna would reach Upaplavya by dawn. ‘If war is what they want, they will get it. And they will not live to even regret it, Draupadi!’
Draupadi stared at the sudden transformation and chose to not say anything. She was already resigned to the fact that her best friend was at times beyond her understanding. But it looked like her husband of two decades was the same! For the rest of the evening, she saw Yudhishtira strategize with his brothers and brothers-in-law in a fury that even surprised them.
‘We need to see where the sun rises tomorrow. I bet it must be in the west!’ Bhima remarked, suppressing a mischievous chuckle. He could hardly conceal his jubilation at Yudhishtira’s transformation. ‘So, it took a Krishna and another heap of insults upon him for the eldest to set his heart upon war!’
Krishna had talked about Yudhishtira’s heart not being in the war. Now that had changed! In her mind’s eye, she saw the two sides face each other in the battlefield.
She had been told that Kurukshetra would be the venue.
Thirty-five
Night Before the War
The camps at Kurukshetra swarmed with soldiers, charioteers, caretakers, doctors, attendants, and animals. Horses, mules, elephants and even bullocks, used to pull the carts of supplies, made each camp swell in size. It seemed as if a huge portion of life on earth had assembled there.
To kill or die in the name of dharma!
Draupadi felt a shiver down her spine when she imagined the first clash between these two seas of armies. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the earth might quake! A loud round of cheer from the foot soldiers in the camp startled her. The principal warriors of the Pandava camp had returned from the final meeting where the code had been decided. It was a wise decision to choose Drishtadyumna as the commander-in-chief. Known for his ruthlessness on the battlefield, Drishtadyumna, unlike his brothers-in-law, was not related to anyone on the other side. Nostalgic sentiments or emotions were not something that would slow him down.
She walked through the ranks of soldiers, noting their upbeat mood. They were talking about enjoying the night to the fullest for no one knew if they would see another night. Draupadi felt her bosom tighten.
If she felt this way, what would the five brothers feel on the following day when they saw half of their relatives waiting to kill them or die by their hands?
With Yudhishtira calling her to lead the ceremonial worship offered to Goddess Durga to seek her blessings for victory, she brushed her tears away and hurried to where they waited for her. Desire for victory, revenge, fame, recognition, and justice surfaced on the faces of each of the warriors in the camp.
Grant us contentment. Grant us strength. Grant us intelligence.
Grant us courage to fight on when the enemy gains.
Grant us compassion when we better the enemy.
Above all, grant us the unsullied heart and endless vigour.
May we prove worthy of Your blessing to be victorious.
May we fight for dharma, to uphold all that is fair and just!
Those who had the ability to compose sung their hymns to the Goddess, praising the Supreme Feminine who took on the demonic elements that once threatened the life and order of balance in the world. She was a manifestation of their cumulative energies, endeavours, and ambitions. She was what sustained them. She was what drove them. She was everything—the daughter, the beloved, the mother. She was the desire, the means, and the end. She would drink the blood of the monsters who threatened everything she had sworn to protect.
The stories of ancient legends, described with embellishments of devotional exaggeration, never failed to hold the listeners in awe. With Her blessings, they would go to battle the next day.
Draupadi walked over to the tents where her brothers and sons slept and checked if they had kept their weapons within their reach, lest the need arose. To her disappointment, most of them had not. Draupadi conveyed her displeasure to Prativindhya who was the only alert warrior by that time, despite an overdose of wine.
‘Pray, calm down, Mother!’ Prativindhya protested. ‘Like you expect the soldiers on the other side to break in here in the dead of the night and attack us. That would be flouting the code of war the very day it was made!’
‘Like you expect them to follow any codes! After what they did…’ Draupadi paused mid-sentence, not wanting to remind him of the bitter memory all over again.
‘We shall not let you down, Mother. Please get some sleep now, I beg you,’ Prativindhya pleaded.
Draupadi saw him collapse on the bed and kept his dagger by his side. It seemed like a huge mistake to have let the children mingle with the Panchala princes. When Prativindhya had insisted on postponing
his wedding until after the war, she had not pressed him further. But now, when she saw Abhimanyu with Uttara, sober and mindful before the big day, she suddenly felt unsure about involving the children in the bloodbath that would follow. But keeping them away, she knew, was not a solution either. Only two warriors in the land of Bharatavarsha were abstaining from the war—Balarama and Rukma, Rukmini’s brother. She did not want the world to remember her sons along with the two. With another fond glance at her five children, Draupadi forced herself to walk away.
To her surprise, she found the tent of Yudhishtira empty. Concerned, she hurried to search for him. The tents of the other four Pandavas were empty as well. At last, she found them all together by a fire lit on the banks of the lake.
‘How will you face the battle tomorrow without a good sleep?’ she asked.
Yudhishtira’s response was a detached nod. He moved aside on the boulder he sat on, making space for her.
‘Anything of concern, Samrat?’ she relaxed only after seeing all the five shake their heads.
Why aren’t you all sleeping?
The question remained on her face.
‘The wait of fourteen years has come down to a single night, Samragni,’ Yudhishtira replied, staring into the flame at the centre. ‘But battles don’t leave one the same. Especially, battles of this magnitude, which bring almost all the warriors, kings, warlords, and soldiers of Bharata to the cusp of killing or dying. This might be the last time we will see each other as we are, our spirits unscarred by whatever tomorrow holds in store.’
‘Battles scar only those who either fight for selfish ends or those who have a narrow understanding of dharma, Samrat,’ Draupadi protested. ‘I trust none of you are after vengeance or have to be reminded of the nuances of dharma.’ Considering their faces devoid of any expression, she continued, ‘If vengeance was all we wanted, we could have extracted it the day Bhanumati begged us to save Duryodhana from the Gandharvas.’ She smiled. ‘Or when Arjuna faced the Kuru host and overwhelmed them single-handedly. We were not short of opportunities to pay them back.’
Draupadi- the Tale of an Empress Page 20
