I am... DRAUPADI (Continued)

DRAUPADI (Continued)

"They say that in my previous birth, I was the daughter of a Brahmin. I remained unmarried, and in my longing for a husband, I performed severe penance to Lord Shiva. When he appeared before me, I pleaded, **'Grant me a husband,'** not once, but five times. And so, in this birth, I was destined to have five husbands."

That was Sage Vyasa's explanation.

As I looked at my father, who had been overjoyed that Arjuna had become his son-in-law, I wondered if perhaps this truly was the reason behind my destiny.

My father, too, opposed the idea of my becoming the wife of all five Pandavas. But after hearing Vyasa's words, he fell silent.

What could anyone do against destiny?

And so, I was married.

The greatest warriors of Aryavarta became my husbands.

I believed that this was the greatest trial life had in store for me.

I was wrong.

A far greater agony was waiting.

---

The day news arrived that the Kauravas had invited Yudhishthira to a game of dice, an unexplainable fear settled in my heart.

Something felt terribly wrong.

Soon, a maid rushed into my chambers with word that the game had begun in the royal assembly.

My anxiety deepened.

One by one, Yudhishthira wagered everything.

His wealth.

His kingdom.

His brothers.

Even then, though I was disturbed, I could do nothing.

But when I learned that **I too had been staked...**

My world stood still.

At that very moment, while I was in my chambers observing my monthly seclusion, Dushasana stormed in.

I trembled.

No matter how fiercely I resisted, he seized me by my hair and dragged me like a helpless animal through the corridors of the palace.

I struggled with every ounce of strength I possessed.

Yet I was thrown into the centre of the royal court.

I, who had always appeared before the world adorned with dignity and grace, now stood with dishevelled hair, sweat upon my face, and humiliation consuming every breath.

The first faces I searched for were those of my husbands.

Their heads were bowed.

Not one of them spoke.

Then Duryodhana laughed.

With cruel delight, he ordered Dushasana to strip me before the assembled court.

What greater disgrace could there be?

I pleaded with my mighty husbands.

"Protect me."

Silence.

I turned to Grandsire Bhishma.

He lowered his head.

I looked toward the blind King Dhritarashtra.

He had become deaf to justice as well.

I sought help from my revered teacher, Drona.

He too remained silent.

And then...

Dushasana laid his hands upon my sari.

Who was left for me now?

When even those who had vowed to protect me abandoned me...

In that moment of utter helplessness, only one name arose within my heart.

**Vasudeva.**

My Lord.

My dearest friend.

My eternal refuge.

I raised both my hands and surrendered completely.

"You alone are my protector."

What happened next cannot be explained.

Whether it was miracle, grace, or divine compassion, my honour was preserved.

That day...

My heart became a volcano.

A blazing fire that would never again be extinguished.

---

Yet I do not condemn all men.

With time, I understood the helplessness of my husbands.

They too were bound by dharma, by circumstance, by their own vows and failures.

That is why I followed them into exile without resentment.

Can anyone truly imagine the state of my heart then?

From that day onward, I left my hair unbound.

It would remain so until it was bathed in the blood of Dushasana.

That was my vow.

Even the forest gave me no peace.

The wicked Jayadratha tried to abduct me.

During our year in disguise, Keechaka relentlessly tormented me.

Both eventually met the punishment they deserved at the hands of my husbands.

But the Kauravas still lived.

I had been born from the sacred fire of vengeance.

Now that fire truly awakened within me.

I waited.

I waited for the day of war.

At last, it came.

When Bhima fulfilled his vow and Dushasana's blood touched my hair, a part of the fire within me was finally quenched.

And when Duryodhana fell with his thigh shattered, my heart found a measure of peace.

The Kauravas were gone.

The kingdom was ours.

Everywhere there was celebration.

Victory.

Triumph.

But not within me.

---

The day I ascended the throne as Empress, there was no joy in my heart.

I could think only of my sons.

My beloved children.

Slaughtered in their sleep by Ashwatthama.

As their memories tore through my soul, how could I rejoice in a crown?

How could a grieving mother celebrate a kingdom?

Still, sorrow could not become an excuse to abandon duty.

For the welfare of the people, I fulfilled my responsibilities.

Time passed.

Eventually, we renounced the kingdom and began our final journey toward the Himalayas, leaving behind all worldly attachments.

After enduring so much suffering, I believed heaven surely awaited me.

But destiny had one final lesson.

I was the first to fall.

They said it was because my love for Arjuna was greater than my affection for my other husbands.

Was that my fault?

Was loving the man who first won my heart such an unforgivable sin?

I do not know.

I was born a princess.

I lived as an empress.

The world praised me as a woman of incomparable beauty.

Yet nowhere along the path of my life did I ever find lasting peace.

I am Draupadi.

May no woman ever be born to endure the destiny that I bore.

May no heart ever suffer as deeply as mine.

And had I not been blessed with a friend like **Vasudeva Krishna**...

I often wonder...

What would have become of this Draupadi?