Epic Retold: The Mahabharata in Tweets (12 page)

Duryodhana laughs. ‘Spoken like a loser, Yudhistira!’ he mocks. ‘If you accept defeat, we can end this humiliation.’

Sakuni interjects, ‘Let us stop. Yudhistira has nothing more to pledge anyway.’

Yudhistira’s voice cuts through the hall. ‘My wealth is not exhausted yet! The astounding archer, Arjuna. I offer him next.’

I look at Dritarashtra. The blind king is leaning forward, his dead eyes devouring the site of play. I am certain he is smiling.

Sakuni wins Arjuna too. As my younger brother moves to stand by the twins, I hear Uncle Vidura’s voice.

‘Stop this atrocity! Or this clan will be ruined by it!’

Sakuni pretends not to hear. Looking to where I stand, he tells Yudhistira, ‘You have more wealth. There still remains mighty Bhima!’

Did my brother agree? He must have, for I see him throwing the dice again.

An instant later, Sakuni roars. ‘I win! Does the great emperor have anything more to pledge?’

Yudhistira looks at us. I see fear in his eyes. And shame. He turns to Sakuni.

‘I offer myself now. If I win, I take back my brothers. If I lose, I will be your slave.’

I know the outcome even before Sakuni throws. Yudhistira slumps, his defeat now complete.

Sakuni is whispering something to Duryodhana, whose face brightens. Sakuni addresses Yudhistira:

‘It seems you have forgotten something, Yudhistira. Your greatest treasure. Draupadi.’

The spectators fall silent. Then there are protests from around the hall, much anger at Duryodhana.

Yudhistira’s voice silences all. ‘I will play. I offer my dearest wife. If I win, I take back everything, everything I have lost.’

I hear the dice rattling across the board. Twice. Then, thundering silence.

Duryodhana speaks, ‘Bring her here now. Let the wife of the Pandavas meet her new master.’

THE GAMBLER

EPISODE 16

TWEETS 71

It is Arjuna who stays me when I rise determinedly.

‘This is not the time for outbursts,’ he says, holding my arm. ‘The elders cannot let this happen. Wait.’

I see Uncle Vidura addressing Dritarashtra. His whole body is shaking. He says, pointing to Duryodhana:

‘This son of yours will destroy this clan! He will turn Hastinapur into a cremation ground if you do not stop this madness!’

The blind king’s response is too soft for me to hear. But Duryodhana’s voice rings clear as he orders a servant, ‘Bring me Draupadi!’

Around us, noble kings watch with only token protest. Righteousness is writ on many faces, but secretly, they wait to see our humiliation.

I look at Yudhistira. He sits unmoving. Opposite him, Karna and Duryodhana are talking in hushed tones.

The servant returns alone. As he stands shaking, palms together, Karna asks, ‘What did she say?’

‘The queen wants to know the order of the pledges,’ the servant says. ‘She wants to know if the king pledged himself or her first.

‘She also inquired if the wise kings and noble rulers here thought it was justifiable to allow such a pledge.’

The spectators look at each other, uneasy. I see a dark, middle-aged ruler approach Bhishma and say something. Bhishma listens intently.

Duryodhana shouts, ‘A maid has no right to ask such questions! Bring her here now.’

Quivering, the servant stands there, praying for an intervention. When his eyes meet mine, he looks away fearfully.

‘Dushasana, this idiot is afraid,’ Duryodhana says. ‘You go bring her!’

Dushasana walks indoors, a pleased look on his face. The spectators appear frozen to their seats. Duryodhana paces restlessly.

A collective gasp escapes the assemblage when Dushasana returns. He has Draupadi. He holds her by her hair.

Knocking aside Dushasana’s arm, Draupadi steps forth. Hair undone, covered only by a light garment, she stands in a room full of vultures.

Even in her shame, she holds her head high. Her voice falters only a little as she addresses the elders.

‘Why have I been dragged so into a hall of men?’ she asks, holding her garment from slipping. ‘Will you suffer this outrage in silence?’

I see Bhishma speaking urgently to Dritarashtra. The middle-aged king I had noticed before stands near, conversing with Uncle Vidura.

Draupadi looks around at the audience. No one dares meet her gaze. When it rests on the huddled Yudhistira, contempt flares on her face.

Then her eyes rest on me, hold mine.

‘This is us now—slaves!’ I tell her. ‘Because our king, the great Yudhistira, wills it so. Because his word is above all else.’

The look on Draupadi’s face burns my soul. It is shame, more than grief or anger, that makes me turn on Yudhistira.

’Even pimps who drink and gamble and live off their women,’ I say, ‘even they don’t stake their women for another throw of dice!’

Yudhistira’s silence only makes me boil over. ‘Sahadeva, bring me fire. Let me burn these hands before I do something I will regret.’

I feel Arjuna’s hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me. Just then, Vikarna, one of the Kaurava brothers, speaks up:

‘Nobody has answered the queen’s question. Can someone who is already a slave pawn a free woman? I say Draupadi is no slave!’

Karna responds angrily, ‘Vikarna, Duryodhana is your elder brother. How dare you question his authority?’

I have never taken note of this young cousin of mine, but perhaps I should have. Fearless in the face of Karna’s wrath, Vikarna retorts:

‘Duryodhana is my brother, Karna, this is my clan. And I say, to drag a woman, half-naked, into an assembly of men is a great wrong.’

‘Enough, Vikarna!’ Duryodhana cuts in. Karna turns to him, ‘Slaves have no right to wear royal robes. Strip them!’

Yudhistira silently takes off his upper garment. His ornaments have already been stripped. Nakula, Sahadeva, Arjuna and I follow suit.

At a signal from Karna, Dushasana grabs Draupadi’s garment. I surge forward despite myself, pushing aside Karna who gets in between.

‘Hear me, all of you,’ I thunder. ‘For this, I swear, I will break open this man’s chest one day. For this I will drink his blood!

‘Stop now, and I will spare the rest of your sons!’

Dushasana hesitates, fearing I will attack. Then, feeling the gaze of the spectators, he tugs again at Draupadi’s garment.

The silk slips through his uncertain fingers. Dushasana stumbles. I see him trip on the middle-aged king’s foot and fall on his back.

‘Draupadi’s question still stands,’ the king says calmly. There is something familiar about him that my distraught mind fails to place.

‘There are many wise men here,’ the king is saying, ‘but no one has yet answered whether Yudhistira had the right to pawn her.’

Everyone looks at Uncle Vidura and Bhishma. Bhishma is the first to respond.

‘A man’s word is his honour,’ he says. ‘So Yudhistira needs to decide if Draupadi was pledged or not.’

Wise men? If wisdom is supporting a wrong with the right words, Bhishma certainly is wise.

Duryodhana looks pleased. ‘Let the other Pandavas and Draupadi say Yudhistira had no right over them,’ he says. ‘I will free them all.’

Draupadi does not wait for an answer. Thrusting Dushasana aside, she falls at the feet of the intervening king.

He raises her gently. Murmuring something, he walks her to where Dritarashtra sits.

In the noise and confusion, I do not hear her words. But the old man, who had sat through everything with nary a protest, finally speaks:

‘This child is a daughter to me. She is free.’

Draupadi speaks to him again. Dritarashtra says, ‘I also declare her husbands, the sons of my brother Pandu, free.

‘The treasures and kingdom that Yudhistira lost will remain with my son, Duryodhana.’

Draupadi touches Dritarashtra’s feet. Then, without looking at us, head held high, she walks out of the hall. One by one, we follow.

Outside, Visoka has arranged chariots. We have no kingdom to return to. But we cannot linger in Hastinapur.

Draupadi is already seated in the lead chariot, with Mother beside her. Silent, they stare into the distance.

Yudhistira makes as if to get in with them. When neither moves, he climbs into another chariot behind. Just then, a messenger comes running.

He says, bowing, ‘Another game has been arranged, if the king is willing.’

Sahadeva jumps out and approaches Yudhistira excitedly. ‘Don’t!’ he says. ‘You cannot win against that crooked Sakuni!’

I see the wheels turning in the gambler’s mind. A chance to win what he has lost! Yudhistira asks, ‘Who invites us?’

The messenger says, ‘Maharaja Dritarashtra. He said it is a way to right this injustice.’

I look at Mother’s face. I see resignation.

As Yudhistira sits undecided, Arjuna orders the charioteers to move out.

‘Stop!’ Yudhistira says.

He gets down, walks back into the palace. Nakula and Sahadeva follow. Mother and Draupadi sit in the chariot.

Leaving Arjuna with them, I head for an empty corner of the palace. ‘Bring me liquor,’ I order an attendant.

Nakula and Sahadeva take turns to keep me informed. I do not stop drinking when I hear Yudhistira is winning.

Nor when I hear he is losing.

When it is over, it is Sahadeva who comes. He sits across me for a long time without speaking.

‘Exiled to the forests for twelve years,’ he says at last. ‘Then we have to live in disguise in our own land for one year.

‘If we are recognized during that one year, it is back to the forest for another twelve years. How do you like that?’

I do not react.

‘I have one thing to ask of you, brother,’ Sahadeva says. ‘When you kill the Kauravas and their puppets, leave that cheating Sakuni to me.’

Hugging my younger brother close, I get up. I have nothing to say.

KAMYAKA

EPISODE 17

TWEETS 79

The rains pour down after we come to live in Kamyaka. The forests here are more beautiful, with flowering trees and plenty of small game.

Uncle Vidura has taken Mother with him. He had accompanied us from Hastinapur, staying with us for the first few months of our exile.