My Days in Mahabharat

Indescribable it was!

Indraprastha

The day was windy.
Or should I say the day was stormy.

Dry, arduous, husky, driech winds of Bhadra month were in a fashion of spiraling, swirling and howling; like a whirlpool of emotions, unfathomed pain and natural elevation. No. There was no sign of lightning, thundering or even rain. It was just windy and stormy, but much horrifying.

Looks like the god of wind was already celebrating the birth of his son's son.

Carnage ensued. Trees were swaying wildly, weeds uprooting, branches withering, the velvety cerulean hued curtains claiming the bejeweled ceilings, brass and copper carafes rolling and falling with a swing of harsh winds and Panchali was screaming in infinite pain.

A competition was going on, storms promising to bellow and level the mightiest; Draupadi's screams groaning in pain, which is indescribable.

Who won? Draupadi. Every jiff and moment, her blood curling yells sent chills down my spines.

Is this childbirth? The pain they say is unbearable?

Yes, it was my maiden experience. I was witnessing this nature's elusive and mesmerizing phenomenon got the first time. Not in kaliyug too. I was just three years ten months old when my younger sister was born and my uncle took me on a road trip as soon as my mother got her labor pain. When I came back, I was happy to have a baby sister. My Janhvi! “So a fairy gave her to you muma?” a small and unacknowledged to the reality Simran believed in fairies.

I've never in my lifetime got the picture; a woman giving birth to a baby.

Here, in dwaparyug, during the time of eldest's son, Vin, Prativindhya, I was scheduled to accompany the agrarian chief to the commoners area, fetching a tally of rabi crop production. When I returned to the palace, the sight was to behold. Draupadi holding a fragile baby in her arms and Yudhishthir sitting beside her caressing his palms on baby's temple whilst lingering a kiss on Draupadi's forhead.

During the time of the eldest twin's son, Nik, Shatanik, I was down with a high fever, that I wasn't able to walk of weakness. Despite my constant whining and pleas, Nakul gave me a maypop extract which is a natural sedative. As per ayurvati, it was the due date of Draupadi and I wanted to be with her because I wasn't able to at Vin's time. “You need rest” before engrossing in a sleep these were the only words I could hear from Nakul's mouth. Later, when I woke up in the evening after sleeping in the morning, the vista was to frame. Nakul was holding a winsome baby in his right arm as he massaged Panchali's forhead with his left, as the two most beautiful ones of the time adored the most beautiful child.

The elderly woman from my time used say giving birth is like breaking twenty bones at a time.

Twenty bones at a time? You fucking kill me.

Mata Kunti was inside the chamber. "Have strength putri" her only words that were faintly audible outside the grand doors. A force of gynaeacs and ayurvati were exiting and entering the chamber with various roots, seeds, extracts, carafes, bowls of hot and cold water in brisk motions.

Nakul and Sahdev were adamant to, provide certain medicines to ease their wife. But, can they interfere in the mysticism of God's natural process?

Yudhishthir's and Arjun's eyes were fixed to their brother, Bheem who was marching on the marble floor from the past prahar. “Bheem relax” Jyesth's words were unsuccessful in soothing the growth of consternation. “Bhrata Bheem. Panchali is a warrior. She and the child will be fine” Arjun endeavored his hand to peace out his brother.

And I

I could only hear Draupadi's hair raising screams of pain. They say it's the most beautiful experience. The most blissful feeling. The most ecstatic moment. What about the saline drops of anxious sweat swarming the body? The tightening of core and sore gut? The shrivelling muscles and dry bones which feel like cracking each second? The contraction of uterus muscles? The infinite stretching of birth canal? The groin pain in thighs and cramping abdomen?

No. It's scary.

I can't imagine. Am I fearful of this most utopian sentiment? I love children, then how can I even. . .? They nurture a living being inside them for nine months and after going through a substitute of almost syncope or getting killed, maybe. . .

A cuckoo song. A dawn melody. A thalassic mist. A nublivagant zephyr.

“Bheem, y-you've become a father my son. Panchali she-she gave birth to a boy” Mata brusquely came outside the chamber standing on the door post, she was breathing heavily, as she grinned ear to ear announcing the heart balm. Bheem rushed inside the chamber in no time, unaware and ignoring everyone present in the room.

I could only stare at the family.

Yudhishthir instructing messengers to call upon the royal astrologer. Arjun examining the various gifts, memoirs and carts which have arrived for the birth of third prince. Nakul and Sahdev were occupied with the ayurvati, making various medicines in long lists for Draupadi. Mata was in the temple, for shivlinga veneration which was prearranged as a wish of healthy birth.

I looked out of the window. The howling storms were now soothing breezes. The livid black sky was now azure ether. The withering trees no longer swayed in harshness but in a melody. The velvety curtains settled at an angle of the window pane, as if blocking any misfortune or harm to touch the baby.

Draupadi's knackered head deluged in sweat was rested on Bheem's broad shoulder who had his toned arm curled around her forearm. As they sat, their laps made a plunge and soft mattress for the baby, which was much healthier and bigger than Vin and Nik.

"Simran come here, why are you standing there?” Draupadi called out in a tired voice. Five hours of pain. “Do come and watch this notorious one, who troubled his mother a lot” Bheem beckoned me to get inside not moving his gaze from the child.

The bluish black hair were of Draupadi. That smile and lines of grin around his corneas resembled Bheem. The dark brown iris were just like Panchali, but the almond shaped eyes were on Vrikodar. No doubt, his strength will be just like his father but his compassion will be just like his mother.

“Have you decide a name Bheem?” I whispered, enthralled by the endearing and adorable specimen before my eyes, squirming in his parents' laps.

Draupadi raised her gaze to her husband who was already looking at her, then they both looked at me smiling in gaiety.

“Sutasoma” Bheem declared proudly giving a soft peck on his son's cheek who cachinnated. “When I look at him Aarya, all that pain washes away. It was all worth it, that I am blessed with this eudaimonia, my contented happiness. My Sutasoma” Draupadi slightly caressed the baby's temple and his tiny nose.

It was all worth it. The pain was all worth it. Indeed. It isn't scary but you don't know it until you feel it. Childbirth gives you unbelievable sights, indescribable feelings and infinite emotions.

"Hey! Hi Sutasom! actually, Hi Som!" I gently pinched his cheeks as he tittered holding my finger in his tender and tiny fist.