“My life will change tomorrow. It will never be the same after one of the suitors would string the bow and pierce the eye of the fish. I can feel my heart throbbing. I feel restless.” Panchali thought to herself as she took a deep breath and twisted on the bed. It was already midnight, the magical light of the sun was creeping in from the window. The summer breeze was warm, caressing the princess’ tanned skin. She was afraid but excited for this new journey. Though she will miss her parents, her brother, her palace, and every moment she spent here, she knew that her life was more than this. Deep within she always knew that her purpose was greater than just being a princess, a sister, or a daughter.
The air was engulfed with chantings of slokas and the smoke of the ceremonial fire. The Brahmanas were chanting the mantras tuned with the devotional notes of the sitar and the tabla. The guards were beating their drums in synchronization as the guests and suitors stepped into the hall, each blazing with pride and a broad confident smile. Kings and sages from all over the continent had blessed the occasion with their presence. Panchali stood still, veiled behind the curtains, her eyes searching for the man she would soon be the wife of. Her maids were singing and laughing, her father bowing low to welcome the great sage Vyasa.
“sister, take deep breaths. It will all be fine” said Dhristadyumna, rushing to make the arrangements for the Swayamvar to begin.
“Thanks, Dhri” whispered Panchali to herself.
The moments passed quickly as the crowd turned silent, every eye fixed upon the curtain that hid the princess.
“The daughter of the king of Panchal- Draupadi” announced Dhristadyumna with energy that echoed love and proudness. The curtains flew upon. Draupadi took a deep breath and with tender confidence smiled and bowed low, folding her hands in the traditional namaste. The suitors were enchanted by the beauty, grace, and confidence of the princess.
“With the permission of the great sage Vyasa, we begin the Swayamvar.” declared Dhristadyumna. As he stated the rules of the competition, Draupadi’s gaze wandered into the crowd. Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met the eyes of Krishna. He smiled at her and nodded, assuring her of his presence. “Krishna, I am afraid,” she thought to herself, smiling back at her friend.
The loud cheers of the crowd broke her silence. The kings had begun raising from their seats and stepping ahead to lift the bow. She clutched her saree tightly, her heart nervous. The suitors had to pierce the fish in the air by looking down at its reflection in the water. The task was difficult, impossible for ordinary men to accomplish. It was designed for the man everyone hoped would marry Draupadi. The greatest archer of Bharatvarsh- Arjun.
As the kings failed, returning to their seats with crushed pride, Panchali’s mind grew uneasy. Arjun wasn’t here. There were rumors of the death of the Pandavas. Will she live unmarried considering the inability of the kings to accomplish the task? Or will the kings protest and declare war against Panchal for setting up the competition so unrealistic? The whispers raised and the cheers subsided.
Panchali’s head bent low in dismay. She closed her eyes, remembering the words Krishna said to her yesterday as she expressed her fear and nervousness to him. “Krishnaa (fondly Krishna called Draupadi – Krishnaa) tomorrow will be a day that would change history. You do not have to be nervous, Arjun will come. But you must remember, the honor of your family and the daughter of Panchal lies in your hand. A moment will come when you must rise and speak cause only you will have the power to do so. Your heart would tend to protest against your words but for Dharma, you must break all the barriers of your heart and say it”.
She opened her eyes, Karna, the king of Anga and the greatest ally of Duryodhan looked straight into her eyes. His eyes were pulling Panchali into him, speaking stories that hid deep within him. She knew what Krishna meant yesterday but she also knew that he must get a chance. He was the only man who could defeat Arjun. His muscular body hid his tender heart, calling out to Panchali with love and respect. “I cannot do this to him.” she thought to herself. Raising from her throne, her heart called out to her, whispering words that said ‘this man would protect you. He would love and respect you. Look into his eyes. You know it. He desires your love and respect. Do not disrespect him in the entire assembly of kings. Stop Panchali’
“But I must” she thought to herself.
“I will not marry a sutputra (son of a chariot driver)” she announced loud and clear in the assembly. Her eyes were fixed on Karna who bent low and walked away. She knew that she had hurt him. She wanted to tell him how much she respected him. That deep within she wanted to be with him. To read his eyes and to spend her life with him but was tied in the chains of society. “I am sorry Karna” she whispered.
Her mind fell silent. She regretted her words. The crowd was going restless, the kings drawing up their swords, ready to rebel.
“I wish to try” echoed the voice of a Brahmin from the crowd. Draupadi glanced at him but had now given up. She nodded and retreated to the silence of her heart.
“Krishnaa” whispered Krishna, disturbing Panchali from her thoughts. She looked up, the Brahmin looking at her, the crowd cheering and the kings whispering curses in rebellion. Krishna was standing beside the Brahmin, his mischievous smile restoring faith in Panchali’s mind. She walked down the hall, her heart racing. Hiding her pain deep within her, she smiled at the Brahmin, who looked more like a warrior. The scars of the battle ran all over his muscular arm. His face was gleaming with confidence, his hands roughly holding the garland as if it were holding a heavy bow. The maids were whispering of the beauty of the man and the way he had mesmerized the assembly by perfectly arching his body and raising the bow. As Panchali stepped ahead onto the marriage platform, she looked at Krishna who nodded at her. Looking back at her husband, she raised her garland and placed it around the Brahmin’s shoulders. The Brahmin then raised his arms and placed the garland around Panchali, softly smiling and assuring his wife of his love and respect for her. Trumpets roared, and flowers fell upon the couple as the crowd danced and whispered blessings. “Arjun, is it you?” thought Draupadi to herself.
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