Epic Retold: The Mahabharata in Tweets (8 page)

He is my bitter enemy, but I cannot help but admire the way Karna approaches the challenge. If he is nervous, I do not see it.

His arm and shoulders tense as he lifts the bow. But no stress shows on his face. Then, in one fluid motion, he strings it.

Accepting the arrow an attendant offers, Karna slowly angles the bow. Silence smothers the hall.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Draupadi whispering urgently to her twin. Drishtadyumna steps forward.

‘Stop!’

As all eyes turn to him, Drishtadyumna addresses Karna. ‘This contest is for kshatriyas only, king.’

Karna’s eyes flash fire. The arrow he had ready is now pointing at the prince’s chest. Without losing equanimity, Drishtadyumna says:

‘My sister will not accept anyone of lower caste. I must ask you not to continue.’

Karna’s face is no longer impassive. It burns like the sun. I see his fingers tighten on the bowstring, I see Drishtadyumna’s drawn sword.

In that moment, when her brother’s life hangs in the balance, Draupadi speaks. Softly, but it stills her suitor’s hand.

‘Wait!’ she says, stepping in front of Drishtadyumna. I marvel at her composure as she faces Karna, her eyes holding his effortlessly.

Her voice is firm, unyielding as flint. ‘Before you shed blood for me, king, tell me your clan. Who is your father?

‘Surely a maiden has the right to know her suitor?’

What is your clan? Who is your father? Once again, I see Karna wilt under those questions. Once again, I feel sorry for my bitter foe.

When he throws down the bow, it sounds like a thunderclap. As Karna heads straight for the door, I see Draupadi watching.

For a long time, nobody steps into the arena. Yudhistira looks at the bow, then shakes his head. There is disappointment in his eyes.

‘Go,’ I tell Arjuna. ‘This is your day.’

ARJUNA’S DAY

EPISODE 10

TWEETS 61

When the crowd notices Arjuna, there is laughter. With his hair in a topknot and his brow smeared with holy ash, he does not look an archer.

Arjuna takes his time with the bow. Surprised applause rings out as he slowly raises it, using an off-centre grip to correct its imbalance.

Carefully, Arjuna reaches for the string attached to one end and, in one swift motion, loops it across. The bow remains steady in his hand.

When he pulls the string back, I see the bow bucking. Arjuna pauses, his arm muscles taut, struggling to bring it under control.

It seems like ages before he succeeds. The brahmins in front have stood up. As I jump to my feet, there are shouts from the audience.

Arjuna has hit the target.

The next moments are a whirl. While the spectators stand in shocked silence, Draupadi walks up to my smiling brother. He bows his head.

The garland catches in Arjuna’s topknot before Draupadi gets it around his neck. Laughter from the princess. My brother looks mesmerized.

Recovering, the spectators begin to applaud. Before it takes hold, though, there is commotion.

Raised voices. Duryodhana and some other kings have surrounded Drupada and Drishtadyumna.

‘You said this was only for kshatriyas,’ Duryodhana is yelling. ‘What right has this brahmin to contest then?’

An elderly brahmin next to me shouts: ‘Brahmins are of higher caste than any kshatriya. He has the right!’

Seeing Drishtadyumna signal to his army chieftain, I rush forward. Several people fall as I push my way past to where Arjuna stands.

Pulling out a long pole used to hold up decorations, I roar at the kings: ‘Talk to me if you are unwilling to accept my brother as winner!’

Among those who rush me is Sakuni. The one who hatched the plan to burn us alive in Varanavata.

I grab him by the throat, slap him hard. With great satisfaction, I watch him fall. As I advance with the pole, the agitators give ground.

Duryodhana is attending to Sakuni. As he looks up, I see a flash of recognition in his eyes. No, cousin, the Pandavas are not dead.

I tell Arjuna to make his way to the door with his bride. Turning to Drishtadyumna, I say, ‘A chariot! We must leave now!’

Behind me I hear Arjuna bidding a hurried farewell to Drupada. ‘We will return soon,’ he says. ‘Trust me, no harm will befall the princess.’

Outside, a chariot is waiting. I look around for Yudhistira and the twins. They are not among those spilling out of the wedding hall.

While Arjuna helps Draupadi in, I grab the reins from the charioteer. The crowd scatters as I whip the horses and drive straight through.

Behind, I hear the twang of bowstrings. A few tired arrows fall into the chariot.

Meeting no resistance, we speed through the streets, out of the city gates. Draupadi looks at me doubtfully when I stop the chariot.

‘You are safe,’ I tell her. ‘We are not alone.’

We head towards the village where we had agreed to meet after the contest. Draupadi walks between us, holding Arjuna’s arm.

Yudhistira and the twins are not there when we reach the village. An awkward silence falls as we wait for them.

Seeing Draupadi’s questioning look, Arjuna says, ‘You needn’t worry, Princess. We are—’

‘I think I know,’ Draupadi says. ‘Arjuna, the third of the Pandavas. Father was certain you would come.’

Laughter wells in the eyes that look at me. ‘You must be Bhimasena, the second brother. Brahmins do not brawl in wedding halls!’

I smile at the princess. I cannot fault her logic.

It is not long before Yudhistira and the twins arrive. Knowing Mother would be waiting for news, we set off immediately.

The journey back takes much longer. Draupadi, unused to walking on harsh ground, is limping by the time we turn the last corner.

The door of the house we are staying in is shut. Mother must be in the backyard. Asking everyone to wait, I walk in.

‘Mother, you will be pleased,’ I call out. ‘Look what we got today!’

Mother responds, ‘Whatever it is, share it among the five of you.’

Arjuna, who has followed me in, bursts out laughing. ‘Our alms today is the Panchala princess, Mother!’

‘I guessed, child,’ Mother says, coming forward to welcome Draupadi.

‘And I meant what I said.’

Arjuna smiles uncertainly. I frown. What does Mother mean?

I discover what Mother meant later that evening. As I sit by the stream nearby, my feet in the clear water, I sense someone approaching.

It is Yudhistira. ‘Krishna and Balarama visited,’ he says, sitting down next to me. ‘Were you here all the time?’

After a few minutes of silence, he adds, ‘What Mother said about sharing today’s alms, we must not dismiss it without thought.

‘Our alliance will strengthen five-fold if Draupadi weds us all. Even Krishna thinks so.’

I look at him with marvel. Only Yudhistira could say something so preposterous this reasonably. I wait for him to cite the scriptures.

‘Actually, it is not as strange as it sounds,’ he says. ‘Have you not heard the story of Jatila? She was wedded to seven sages. So—’

‘So what?’ I ask sharply. ‘Why should we do something simply because someone did it ages ago?

‘And Draupadi? Have you sought her opinion on this wonderful idea?’

‘Krishna spoke to her,’ Yudhistira says, avoiding my eyes. ‘He spoke to Arjuna too.’

‘And how does Arjuna feel about sharing his bride with his brothers?’

‘He understands.’

I get up angrily. ‘If it is all settled, go ahead, brother! You can get Krishna to persuade everyone that polyandry is good, but not me.

‘I already have a wife—and possibly a child. Mother might not think they are good enough for our clan, but count me out of this alliance.’

I turn away, feeling bitter. First Hidimbi, now Draupadi. Pawns in the Pandava game for power. What does it matter what the pawns feel?

‘Bhima, wait!’

‘I did not encourage this,’ Yudhistira says. ‘Mother asked Krishna to speak to Draupadi and Arjuna. I ... I can understand her reason.’

Noticing my silence, he continues, ‘Since boyhood, the Kauravas have tried to decimate us. We survived their treachery only for one reason.

‘We stood united. All five of us. But now, Mother fears Draupadi could threaten our unity. She could cause jealousy.’

When I fail to respond, Yudhistira says, ‘Mother is right. I ... I covet her, my brother’s wife. So do the twins, who are but boys!’

To be a force, to get back what is rightfully ours, the Pandavas must stay together. Nothing must come between us.

‘Draupadi is our weakness now,’ Yudhistira says. ‘This marriage will make her our strength.’

Yudhistira can make anything sound righteous! I who left my pregnant wife at Mother’s command—who am I to question this wish?

I walk away silently. One more wrong, what does it matter now?

THE LOST QUEST

EPISODE 11

TWEETS 69

I sit on the steps leading down to the Ganga, waiting for the evening breeze to dry the last water drops off me. I still cannot decide.

This is my second day in this town of weavers near Kashi, its crowded, grimy streets resplendent with rich silk merchandise.

I must move on. I must forget the face I saw fleetingly and carry on with the journey that has brought me here.

But my quest, this wanderlust—what is it for but to find what I had left behind?

Months have elapsed since I left our new home in Khandava. Months since I became husband to Draupadi, the wife of my younger brother.

The proud Panchala princess had met my eyes only once on that occasion—momentarily, when I took her hand to walk around the sacred fire.

I wilted before the accusation I saw in that quick glance. Princess—yet a pawn!

But Yudhistira’s—and Mother’s—calculations proved right: the alliance brought a swift end to our impoverished lives.

Messengers came from Hastinapur. Apparently the blind king was overjoyed we had not perished in the fire. He wanted us to return.

Our spies brought news that Duryodhana was brooding after the elders overruled his idea of attacking the Panchalas to get to us.