Not Samragini Draupadi But Just Krishnaa

This pain of mine

"Bhool jao"

"Bhool jao...bhool jao...bhool jao,"
She muttered again and again and again. The cool air from the river hit her cotton saree wrapped body creating goosebumps but she felt nothing. Her eyes closed and she laid her head on the wall trying to stop her cries.

"Sabko Mera krodh dikhayi de rha hai...lekin kisiko...kisiko mera dard nhi dikhayi de rha hai," She sniffed.

How can she forget?

And how can they think that she can forget?

She, the princess of Panchal, the mother of upapandavas, the chief wife of Pandavas and empress of Aryabhatta was dragged like mere animal in the Dyut Sabha.

"Aur sab mujhe swarthi kehna chahte hain.Duniya mein mujhse bada swarthi toh ho hi nhi skta. Kyun? Kyunki mene nyay manga. Mera nyay mangna galat lekin ek stree ko sabha ke beech mein la kar nhi usko ghasit kar la ke uska apman karna ek dum sahi. Arre cheerharan hi toh Kiya hai usne. Konsa bada paap hai," She laughed out loudly.

"Arre jab aurat hi dusre aurat ka dard nhi samjh skti toh mardo se kya asha rakhna?" She spoke bitterly. She recalled maharani Gandhari asking her to forgive them because they were her brother in law's equivalent to sons. A bitter taste came in her mouth as she thought of that. Sons. Yes sons do drag their mother or elder sister in a meeting full of men and insult them. Insult her husbands. If she had sons like that then she would have drowned herself along with them. Let the world be free of those adharmis.

"Bhool jao" she whispered bitterly.

"Bada asaan hota hai bhoolna. Bada asaan hota hai yeh bhulna ki ek paraya mard uss samay tumhara kamre mein ghusa jab tum ek hi vastra mein thi. Usse bhi asaan hota hai yeh bhulna ki usne tumhari saree aur kesh khichke tumhe jagah jagah patka. Yeh dekhna ki kese das aur dasiyan yeh sab dekh rhi hoti hain. Samragni ka apman dekh rhi hoti hain."
She could still feel of those ugly whispers and judgemental stares of those servants as some casted pity and other gave her mocking looks. She the empress of Aryabhatta was afterall dragged like a mere animal in the hallway. Tears stringed her eyes as she recalled all of it. The stares of those Adharmis in the Dyut Sabha. Those man looking at her when they were pulling her clothes out. Lust dripping out of their eyes as they laughed mockingly at her. She scratched her body again and again to remove those stares but nothing. A woman whom none has seen after marriage was stripped down naked in a sabha. She gripped her clothes tightly to herself.

"Aur galat Kiya bhi kya usne. Bs keval ek stree ko nivastra karne ki chesta ki. Woh bhi bas ek ese sabha mein jahan purush the. Jinme se kuch mere pita saman the."

A sob broke free. She could feel the mocking look of Duryodhana as he sat down.'meri jangha pe betho dasi Draupadi'
Everyone was laughing at her. She closed her ears as she started hearing those mocking words again and again.
"Dasi...Dasi...Dasi"

"Aur kya farak padta hai wese bhi ki mene vastra pehne hai ki nhi hai."

She whispered as she recalled the words of Angaraj Karn as he ordered her Cheerharan. She remembered begging everyone. Asking her question. But nobody answered. Because no one knew the answer. They only knew one thing. Their so called fake Dharma and to supress a woman by showing their fragile male ego and strength.

"Kya farak padta hai ki Aaj mein thi kal koi aur hoga. Ki Kalyug mein striyon ke saath isse bura byavaahar Kiya jaega. Stree hi toh hai. Zindagi barbaad Hui toh koi nhi aur bhi streeyan hain."

She spoke emotionalessly as she had once read about Kalyug. Raping woman. Raping girls who had not even know how to speak. Raping woman who were their grandmother's age. Domestic violence. Almost bringing them on the brink of death.

Her lips curled up in disgust.

Society will blame you for war.
Someone had told her that, didn't they?

Will they blame woman for Rape? For murder? For domestic violence?

They would.

Her lips curled up again as she recalled
Gandhari and Bhanumati. They already did that, didn't they? That she is a family breaker.

She closed her eyes in anger as she recalled Bhanumati and other Kauravasangini laughing at her when she departed in her tattered clothes. Those women whom she had so adoringly received were nothing more than snakes.

"Why does it matter if I can't forget it? Why does it matter if a woman can't forgive? It's her fault that she is selfish, arrogant and unkind. Cunning too because she will be the cause of great war,"

Not Sakuni who planned it all. But her. Why? Because she chose to stand for herself and for million of women who would succumb to same situations. She is selfish to choose her and others self respect but they aren't selfish to hide behind their crimes. To separate a mother from her children. They are not selfish for stealing their land. No!

She is selfish.

Afterall forgetting a mere incident of getting dragged by hair during your mensuration, getting insulted among people, getting almost disrobbed is normal. Feeling stares of people, their dirty dirty whisperings is normal. After all she is a....

Why is she making a big deal of it? She should learn to live with it afterall.

A sarcastic laugh left her lips as they curled up in a smirk.

Call her selfish but she can't forget!

She can't even remove the feeling of wondering eyes. The arrogant voice calling her Dasi. Ordering her to sit on someone's lap infront of her husbands among a sabha. Calling her a...a whore. She can't forget the hands pulling the single cloth in the sabha. The helplessness she felt.

"Bhik maangi. Jawab maanga. Lekin tutch janwaron ki tarah unhone mera apman kiya. Mere saare Swami wahan bethe the. Lekin kisine bhi meri sahayata nhi kii. Sab chup chap bethke tamasha dekhte rahe. Lekin jab tamasha dekhni ki baari meri hai toh sabko Annay lg rha hai."

She recalled her sons. Her Prativindhya who wouldn't sleep without her. Her Satanika who would run around doing mischief and then gluing himself to her for the whole day. Her Sutsom who wouldn't eat if she wouldn't feed him and make him his favourite food item. Her Shrutsena who would lie on her lap and tell her everything he learned everyday. Her youngest Shrutakarma who would walk holding her pallu almost everywhere. To find Shrutakarma you would have to find Draupadi.

Twelve years. Twelve years since she saw them. Will they still acknowledge her as their mother? Will they still call her ma? Or would anyone else take her place in their hearts? What if they are disgusted to be her son, the woman who was almost stripped down naked?That ugly feeling clawed itself in her heart. She couldn't see any of them grow into a fine young man. Oh! How much she had planned. But nothing.

She would be a stranger to them. To her own sons.

She found it difficult to breathe. Her sons...her life breathe.

Could they give her back the time with her sons?

Nothing. They can't give her back whatever she lost. This pain is hers...only hers.

The pain of insult. The pain of being disrobbed. The pain of not being with her children. The pain of seeing her husbands getting insulted.

The pain of hers.