It was asked why Draupadi fell first
as she slipped from those craggy peaks
That were the stairs to the heavens.
Was it her mocking laughter
at duryodhana's clumsiness when
he failed to discern the earth from water
in the bewitching halls of Indraprastha?
The laughter that was ascribed to her alone.
The laughter that rang in his ears for eternity
and justified that blinding rage and burnt
the dreams of an entire nation to cinders.
Or, was it the dogged refusal,
actually orchestrated by Krsna,
to allow the guileless son of a charioteer
break the shackles of a formidable caste system
and participate in her star-studded svayambara.
The refusal that was ascribed to her alone.
The refusal that seared his noble heart so
that he rejoiced at a helpless woman's shame
and further alienated a brother from his kin.
Was it because of her assent so shameless
to be a bride to five husbands?
A sin so great in Dharamshastras and yet
She dared to swagger with great pride.
An assent ascribed to her alone
An assent which made bawdy men eye her
like a golden prize that could be won in a game of dice.
Or, was it her incessant rants that made
her husbands lose their sleep as she
berated them endlessly and for thirteen years
walked about with the long untied hair
that thirsted for Kaurava blood.
Those ceaseless rants ascribed to her alone.
The rants that led to killing of Kith and kin
in this epic tale of carnage.
No, it wasn't the hatred that burnt
in the furnace heart of the Yajnaseni
but, was love that undid her finally.
It was the love for one man,
that outshone the affection for the other four.
The ache for that greatest archer,
who caught her wild eye at her svayambara.
The passion for that disguised brahmin youth
whose neck she adorned with a garland of marigold flowers.
The desire for the third kunti-putra
who brought her dreamy-eyed home,
only to share her with his brothers at his mother's command.
The devotion to that obedient Pandava brother
who agreed to the divine plan that granted
them merely one in five years of wedded bliss.
The pining for the surrogate son of Indra
who deliberately broke the nuptial agreement
And wandered away for twelve years to dally with other wives
The longing for that cousin of Krsna
Who broke the oath to her
And brought back a beeming Subhadra home.
The yearning for the slave of Duryodhana
who hung his head in shame with his brothers
As her heart broke in to a million pieces.
The preference for the man who turned woman,
Who couldn't show his valour when Kichak
lusted for her in the last days of disguised exile.
The suffering for that slayer of Bhisma and Karna
Who procrastinated in the battlefield and cared
more for his valour than ever for her love.
- Neha Bansal
