Skip to main content

Draupadi’s Dream


Draupadi wants to beget a daughter by Karna. Bilingual poet [Malayalam and English] K Sachidanandan has written a very short story in the latest edition of the Malayalam weekly, Mathrubhumi. Titled Draupadi’s Soliloquy, the story is an implicit lament on the current state of affairs in India.

No woman can accept her fate with resignation when she has five valiant and virtuous husbands and yet has to stand disrobed in front of a couple of malevolent men who have usurped all powers through means more foul than fair.

Of what value is Yudhishthira’s dharma? Draupadi laments. Arjuna’s famed valour is in vain now. Even the devotion of mighty Bheema serves no purpose. Nakula’s dutifulness and Sahadeva’s courtesy are all futile virtues in this royal court where villainous characters have put on the robes of heroes.

What I want is Karna, Draupadi laments to herself. She has seen the flame that burns fiercely in the eyes of Karna. She has felt the ardour of the passion that fumes in Karna’s bosom. Karna can sacrifice not only his kavacha-kundla but also his very self, if she stands in need of it. Let Karna the Outcast come.

I want a daughter by Karna, Draupadi says. To herself. In the world that is driven by a handful of vicious men, how loud can a woman utter her wishes?

Draupadi wants a daughter who will be a harbinger of a new era in which no woman will be disrobed in royal court that is sustained through manipulations and machinations. I want a daughter who will liberate women from men. A daughter who will liberate my husbands from their macho egos. I want a daughter who will liberate my sons from their ancient hubris.

Draupadi wants a daughter who will be able to laugh happily in the world of men. Not stand disrobed by political chicanery.

A daughter whose heart will have abundant tenderness. Also harshness if needed. A daughter who knows that sacrifice is not only a woman’s duty. A daughter who won’t have to beg for a Krishna’s magnanimity. She will be the Sun’s descendant. From her will a new earth emerge. A new earth where all that exists will be sacred: trees and rivers and hills and valleys and caterpillars and butterflies and… 


Comments

  1. Replies
    1. Sachidanandan's original is a lot more beautiful. This is my way of looking at Draupadi through Sachidanandan's story.

      Delete
  2. That's a nice take - sometimes we don't question the mythology enough - the only thing we can do is be rational and ask questions - whether it is history of mythology, it has to adapt to our time - the morals of an old era might not be valid anymore - glad to see and hear about a book that questions that and makes us think

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Not a book, Vinay. It's just a short story. But there are books on this. Let me suggest one here:
      https://matheikal.blogspot.com/2016/03/the-palace-of-illusions-review.html

      Delete
  3. If it weren't for some mythical stories, we wouldn't have understood whats and whys

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, one purpose of myth is to help us make sense of reality.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

Ayodhya: Kingdom of Sorrows

T he Sarayu carried more tears than water. Ayodhya was a sad kingdom. Dasaratha was a good king. He upheld dharma – justice and morality – as best as he could. The citizens were apparently happy. Then, one day, it all changed. One person is enough to change the destiny of a whole kingdom. Who was that one person? Some say it was Kaikeyi, one of the three official wives of Dasaratha. Some others say it was Manthara, Kaikeyi’s chief maid. Manthara was a hunchback. She was the caretaker of Kaikeyi right from the latter’s childhood; foster mother, so to say, because Kaikeyi had no mother. The absence of maternal influence can distort a girl child’s personality. With a foster mother like Manthara, the distortion can be really bad. Manthara was cunning, selfish, and morally ambiguous. A severe physical deformity can make one worse than all that. Manthara was as devious and manipulative as a woman could be in a men’s world. Add to that all the jealousy and ambition that insecure peo...

Liberated

Fiction - parable Vijay was familiar enough with soil and the stones it turns up to realise that he had struck something rare.   It was a tiny stone, a pitch black speck not larger than the tip of his little finger. It turned up from the intestine of the earth while Vijay was digging a pit for the biogas plant. Anand, the scientist from the village, got the stone analysed in his lab and assured, “It is a rare object.   A compound of carbonic acid and magnesium.” Anand and his fellow scientists believed that it must be a fragment of a meteoroid that hit the earth millions of years ago.   “Very rare indeed,” concluded the scientist. Now, it’s plain commonsense that something that’s very rare indeed must be very valuable too. All the more so if it came from the heavens. So Vijay got the village goldsmith to set it on a gold ring.   Vijay wore the ring proudly on his ring finger. Nobody, in the village, however bothered to pay any homage to Vijay’s...

Bharata: The Ascetic King

Bharata is disillusioned yet again. His brother, Rama the ideal man, Maryada Purushottam , is making yet another grotesque demand. Sita Devi has to prove her purity now, years after the Agni Pariksha she arranged for herself long ago in Lanka itself. Now, when she has been living for years far away from Rama with her two sons Luva and Kusha in the paternal care of no less a saint than Valmiki himself! What has happened to Rama? Bharata sits on the bank of the Sarayu with tears welling up in his eyes. Give me an answer, Sarayu, he said. Sarayu accepted Bharata’s tears too. She was used to absorbing tears. How many times has Rama come and sat upon this very same bank and wept too? Life is sorrow, Sarayu muttered to Bharata. Even if you are royal descendants of divinity itself. Rama had brought the children Luva and Kusha to Ayodhya on the day of the Ashvamedha Yagna which he was conducting in order to reaffirm his sovereignty and legitimacy over his kingdom. He didn’t know they w...

Chitrakoot: Antithesis of Ayodhya

Illustration by MS Copilot Designer Chitrakoot is all that Ayodhya is not. It is the land of serenity and spiritual bliss. Here there is no hankering after luxury and worldly delights. Memory and desire don’t intertwine here producing sorrow after sorrow. Situated in a dense forest, Chitrakoot is an abode of simplicity and austerity. Ayodhya’s composite hungers have no place here. Let Ayodhya keep its opulence and splendour, its ambitions and dreams. And its sorrows as well. Chitrakoot is a place for saints like Atri and Anasuya. Atri is one of the Saptarishis and a Manasputra of Brahma. Brahma created the Saptarishis through his mind to help maintain cosmic order and spread wisdom. Anasuya is his wife, one of the most chaste and virtuous women in Hindu mythology. Her virtues were so powerful that she could transmute the great Trimurti of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva into infants when they came to test her chastity. Chitrakoot is the place where asceticism towers above even divinit...