The Chronicles of Draupadi The personal journals of Draupadi, the heroine of the epic 'Mahabharat'. ________________________________________________________________________ Certain elements in the story may appear random to those who are not acquainted with the 'Mahabharat', the epic tale of the struggle and battle between two powerful families over a kingdom, a story which is an important part of the Hindu mythology (mythology or history?). Translated by Prinsep, James; at the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Calcutta, 1838. Explanations and definitions are presented as endnotes. Translations and comments are within . This is an extract from the journal of Draupadi, real name Krishna. The original is estimated to be several thousands of years old, and what survives is taken from a faithfully rewritten account from a distant descendant of Dhaumya, her family priest. This is her account of how Duryodhan, the Kuru prince, plotted with the help of his uncle Shakuni to deprive their cousins the Pandavs of their kingdom and their rights, and traces the story of her husband, the pandavas, from the time they lost everything at the gamble, to their time in exile. The story is at odds with the official version of the Mahabharata, as age and the egos of the learned managed to layer the facts with white lies and half-truths to change it to its present accepted version. My swayamvar has been organised by father with great fanfare. There was a great show of marital prowess by a princely bunch: Yadavs, Kurus, Kosalas, and Sindhus, even Sakas and Yavanas from faraway lands. The first day has been mostly a dull demonstration of wielding of astras and sastras and chariot riding (exciting). There was much clamour of swords striking shields ceremoniously; arrows whistling onto targets and the shrieks and trumpets of horses and elephants. The long drawn event did not really hold my interest too long. I told Kumud(i)to prepare a hot bath for me so that I could get over my sleepiness. For I would need to stay awake for tomorrow's credential presentation. Today has been a day that I wish I was never born. I have seen princes and kings present their claims and talk about their capabilities, as if they were the mighty trinity themselves. "I can uproot bael trees with my hands." "My toenails are more precious than diamonds". Even: "My linga is mightier than an elephant's trunk!" Father nearly went purple with rage at that. Only his considerable patience and our age old customs prevented him from throwing out the insufferable foreign prince out. Perhaps only two contenders stood out - The king of Ang, Karn, who is rumoured to be a charioteer's son, and an inscrutable Brahmin whose arms and visage are most unbrahminlike. Karn would make a good husband. He's not good looking, but unlike most others, is capable at arms. Where he lacks in looks, he makes up with his bearing. Perhaps I shall ask Kumud to fuck him in his bedchambers tonight, and tell me how good he is. And he'll need to be real good to satisfy her. The other, the Brahmin, is mysterious ... I don't even remember his name. I am willing to bet a precious toenail that there is something more to him. I'm married! Can't believe my luck. I have taken five husbands for myself. A motley bunch of brothers, but I can't wait to check them out. Go slow Krishna, you need to conquer them mind and body. The final day of the swayamvar had a ridiculous contest of shooting a pole mounted wooden fish in the eye, by looking at its reflection in a pool of water directly below. The idea is convoluted but actually quite easy, if you are a practised archer. Perhaps father saw me doing the same in the practice grounds, and wished to betroth me to a warrior my equal in calibre ... Many self-proclaimed giants and warriors tried that day. Many weren't even capable of holding a bow properly, their arms wavering and shoulders bending under the weight of the bow. If only the gods had put muscles in arms rather than on mouths, would this land be blessed with true warriors. Karn was up to the challenge, but I told him that I wouldn't take him for husband. The proud warrior left the arena fuming. [Comments from the translator: Only later would Draupadi realise how affronted Karn really was, and how it would affect the course of history.] I didn't really want to do that, but I couldn't really openly say that Karn was not to my liking. I had my report from Kumud, who said "Your grace, Karn would only live a few weeks, given your stamina, aggression and prowess in the bed. Perhaps if there were four more of him ... " When I hold the bow up, my shoulder is steady, as is my head. The arrow has to fly in a line, from where your eye starts to where the target is. And you see the target, just the target. That's how the resolute Brahmin ignored all the sniggers and insults from the assembled princes and approached the task at hand. He never even glanced up, and pierced the eye with a smooth draw of the bow and a quick release. There were howls of discontent; princes got up with swords and daggers. No one would however complain, since killing a Brahman attracted severe penalties. My father looked at me with apprehension. I nodded and accepted the impassive Brahmin as my husband. Our journey to the forest, to where his brothers and mother were, took three days. I wanted to fuck this introverted and dashing Brahmin with the toned arms on the bullock cart itself, but with a lot of self-control he asked me to wait till we met with the family. That's when I came to know that he was the famed archer warrior Arjun, son of king Pandu. I also spied my brother Dhrishta following us. The poor fellow is so concerned about me. I met the Pandav brothers outside their humble dwelling in the forest. They were staying incognito to counter political vengeance from their cousins. Noble of birth, they could not hide their excitement at seeing me up front. Yudhistir with his steely resolve, yet a flush coming to his cheeks ... The muscled Bhim, wringing his hands ... The smaller twins standing pretty and sweet, barely able to restrain their jumping! Shortly, Yudhistir led us to the cottage, where my mother in law Pritha, also known as Mata Kunti, sat preparing garlands. Oddly, she was sitting facing away from the door. When Yudhistir entered and said, "Mata, see what we've got," she said (with a smile we couldn't have seen) "Oh! Then share it amongst yourselves!" Yudhistir was embarrassed and explained the situation of Arjun winning my hand in the Swayamvar. "Oh!" She said, " ... but a mother's words to her children can't be taken back." She had a satisfied look on her face as she said that. Today I realised that women themselves are the bane of women in this land. They scheme, plot and fight to gain sway over the men folk. Little do they realise that they are condemning themselves to ignominy in history. My gurus, Jaya and Upajaya, have not only tutored me in the martial arts, but also in the finer aspects of politics, statesmanship and strategy. I turned this around in my favour. I said "Mata, it will be my honour. I shall today take these five brothers as husbands. They will wed me and I will spend time with them all." "Draupadi, are you a palace courtesan? You cannot have multiple husbands. It is so deemed in the Vedas(ii)". I said, "Mata, the virtuous lady Jatala of the Gowthama race married the seven sages. Marisa, the daughter of the Apsara Pramlocha and Rishi Kandu, was betrothed to the ten Prachet brothers. Her son was the illustrious king Daksh." "Once a Rishi's daughter underwent great penance to gratify the lord Sankar. The God, pleased by her worship, granted her a boon. The chaste maiden repeatedly asked him for a husband with all good qualities. Sankar blessed her, saying that since she has asked five times, she would have five husbands. Thus it is written in the Garud Puran.(iii)". I silenced my mother in law and got her to bless (albeit reluctantly) the new bride. Inwardly, I was so excited. I had five brothers as husbands, all of different hues and types. Naughty thoughts played in my mind, as to how I would take each of them. The announcer ran to my chambers, "Your Grace ... " he said, catching his breath, "He's coming ... " "Who?" I asked. "Prince Duhshasan, your Grace ... " I was stunned. Anyone who was not a part of my chamber had to ask permission to come in. Even if it were my own husbands. The guards held Duhshasan's squad at bay. When he saw me, he shouted: "Come, you Daasi , it is time for you to go to your master." I gave a stare that would wither a Banyan tree. Cowering, he said ... "You are to come immediately with me to the great hall of kings." "It is not for you to command or even suggest where I am to go, haughty and uncouth prince. I will come at my pace." Misgivings played out in my head as I went to the hall of kings - where a game of Pacheesi(iv) was being played out between my husbands and their cousins, the Kurus. It had so transpired that Yudhistir, normally the most sensible of my husbands, had in desperation, gambled away not only his wealth and kingdom, but also his brothers and himself. Not realising how he'd been cheated, he also gambled me away. So I was now technically a Daasin, a servant of the victors. Duryodhan, the eldest Kuru prince, had already asked my husbands to disrobe and stand in the manner of slaves. He taunted the younger brothers to give up Yudhistir, who had gambled them all away. They stood there mutely, looking down. What fools I have married! Karn then diverted the attention to me. He said: "Now that Draupadi is a Daasi, she can marry a Kuru prince. If she can live with five husbands, she can have a sixth, or a seventh, or a hundred and five of them." The Kuru brothers broke into laughter. There were jeers and catcalls. All this happening in front of the elders of Hastinapur. Then Duryodhan told Duhshasan: "See how the whore stands ... she still thinks she is a princess. Let us all see how she looks. Take off her sari. Let us all have a glimpse of this woman who once dared to mock us." With nearly a hundred voices backing him, Duhshasan was emboldened enough to reach out and grab the pallu of my sari. I gripped the pallu and planted my feet there. The yellow sari had an inlay of gold and copper fibres, so it was quite strong and wouldn't tear. Duhshasan pulled and jerked to dislodge my grip, but I held firm. Was he thinking that he would be able to defeat me in this game of tug? Beads of sweat had coated Duhshasan's forehead and nose. He changed position and tried his level best. He might as well have been trying to pull down a castle wall. Then he to dislodge me with quick pulls from different angles. He ran around me, trying to unwrap the sari, or cause it to get entangled around my wrist. The fool. I only had to turn around to counter his angle. The strain on my arm was not too much, but my perfectly muscled forearms and biceps were taut with definition. The veins lining them gave ample hints of the power I had. Duhshasan was embarrassed now and very afraid too. He was jumping like a langur and screaming to disorient me. It was getting exasperating. Finally, I decided that I need to lose this fellow. As he made a jump sideways, I turned and gave the sari such a pull that Duhshasan couldn't manage to retain balance and sprawled face down at my feet. The court was silent. Duhshasan's chest was heaving with exertion and shame. "O King!" I addressed Dhritarashtr, the father of the Kurus. "Is this how a princess of the family is to be treated?" "We won her in a fair game of dice, father. We can do with her as we please!" Said Duryodhan. Saying so, he bared his hairy thigh and slapped it, saying: "Come daasi, sit here and give me pleasure." "How can I be treated like a daasi? Does Yudhistir have the moral right to gamble me away? Where is the courtesy of the great hall? Does even a daasi get disrobed in this manner?" I gave the assembly a discourse on how the great kings treated women with courtesy. And how by such acts, the entire clan had been brought to disrepute. On the entreaties of Queen Gandhari and Vikarn, one of the Kuru brothers, it was decided that the results of the game would be annulled, and a fresh game played tomorrow. The loser would go onto an exile of thirteen years, the last year of which would be incognito. Tonight I called Yudhistir to my chamber and chastised him. I have used a whip to make his butt raw with wounds, so that he would remember what consequences await him if he loses tomorrow. The twelve years - selected adventures ... we set out with heavy hearts. I wanted to kill my husband for losing the match again. We are marching west, towards the river Sarasvati. Yudhistir intends to reach the forest of Kamyaka, where many Brahmans and ascetics reside. I have left my five sons with my father. I will miss them sorely, as they will miss their mother. But they need to grow up to be fine strong men and warriors. ... This is truly a beautiful place, abounding in animals and birds of all sorts. There are many medicinal plants and varieties of fruit, so the ascetics who live here are truly not wanting for food. ... Our cottage is now complete. Yudhistir spends time with travelling and residing mendicants, discussing with them the scriptures and arguing about Dharma. I fear with no one to guide him, he would while away his remaining days in such discussions. Bhim frets and rants about Duryodhan and Duhshasan, swearing to kill them. But mostly he eats. And can that man eat! The quiet Arjun spends time hunting. At least he is gainfully occupied. The twins entertain us with song and dance, which they are good at. I am worried about this. What will happen to us after thirteen years in exile? Are we to return to Hastinapura like worn out villagers, only to be killed by the Kurus? I must do something about this. Last night I thought about galvanising my husbands to action. Today, after the morning meal, I spoke with the family at length. I have convinced the moping Arjun to go to the Himalayas, to Mount Kailas, and learn the secrets of celestial weapons. Bhim is under a strict diet, I've got him chopping trees so that he gets back in shape. I need his shoulders to be strong so that he will be able to shatter Duryodhan's bare thigh when we meet in battle. Yudhistir is not the battling type, so I am going to teach him how to throw the spear. He will never be able to match my prowess in this, but at least would be able to hold his own in battle. I've asked Bhim to whittle out practice swords for the twins. I will teach them how to wield swords ... Our largely peaceful and routine life was mightily disturbed today. A few days before he left for Kailas, Arjun had intercepted and killed a Rakshas called Saardul. The rakshas had been terrorising the old ascetics and killing them. After his death, a great wailing had erupted from the forest, like a hundred jackals calling out together. Today, a beautiful woman called Sim came to our cottage. She wanted to take me to an old Durga temple deep in the forest. Since I can take care of myself, I let my husbands continue their training and followed Sim deep into the forest. After a while, I realised she was taking me to the denser parts where more rakshasas reside. I confronted her and she turned into her true form, a demon. Her name was Simhika. Her hair was more like a lions' mane. Sharp claws appeared in place of shapely hands. Rough hair grew on her body. She jumped on me, intending to bite and claw, but I held her off, but with difficulty. The demon was strong and sinewy, but raw strength can be countered with leverage. My gurus had ensured that I learnt grappling as well. Soon I had her pinned down and submissive. She said she was the wife of the demon Arjun had slain. She had been driven by grief, as well as by the urgings of her brother, another demon called Kirmir. She warned me that Kirmir would not spare the Pandavs, especially, Bhim, who had killed his brother Bakasur and friend Hidimb. Now Sahadev had seen me leaving, and had followed us discretely. As I let go of Simhika and she got up, Sahadev charged at her and slashed with his sword. It was too late to stop him; he had cut her breasts and face. She lay in a pool of blood, her life draining out of her. I finally managed to yank the sword out of his hand and slapped him with the back of my hand. The fool thought that he'd saved me. With sorrow, I went to Simhika and snapped her neck to relieve her suffering. "But I saved you!" cried Sahadev, as I twisted his ear. "You fool, go run and get your brothers, we have a deadly battle coming upon us. Run!" Sahadev ran. I turned back to see storm clouds gathering, and made my way back to the cottage. I described the incident to Dhaumya, our head priest, and Yudhistir. It was decided that we will have to hold off Kirmir with guile and mantra , until Bhim came back from his daily chores. Soon, a dark cloud appeared, taking the form of a hideous monster. It was Kirmir, of red eyes and hair. His very countenance was scary to say the least. He was accompanied by a host of smaller demons. The chants of Dhaumya gave us courage, and the monster hesitated. I stepped forward and spoke with Kirmir, who revealed that he knew we were responsible for the deaths of Bakasur, Hidimb and Simhika. He sorely wanted to kill us all, Bhim first. I parried him with questions of my own, gaining time until Bhim was there. The battle was intense. Both broke off branches and used them as clubs. The strong rakhsas hurled rocks and boulders as well. It was good that Bhim had begun training. His conditioned body took all the attacks well, and he landed telling blows. Suddenly, a lesser demon attacked Bhim's knees from behind. He lost his balance and fell. Kirmir took the opportunity to raise a boulder and smash Bhim's head. But I picked up the club discarded by Bhim, and smote him fiercely on his neck. The monster collapsed dead. At this, his host fled, and darkness seemed to lessen. I helped Bhim to his feet, and tended his injuries lovingly. Tonight I will reward him magnificently. ... Arjun has now been gone nearly five years. I miss my reticent husband. Not that the others are any bad, but Arjun is special for me. So we are setting off for the Himalayas to receive him and bring him back. ... The five years have made Arjun a skilled archer, armed with weapons of mass destruction: The Narayanastra, Pasupatastra and more. He has also blossomed as a lover - has a wife called Subhadra. That brings the count of his wives to four, including myself. Subhadra, the sister of the esteemed Sri Krishna, is a sweet girl, having many virtues. She is sharp, intelligent and well versed in law. I think we are going to make it off well ... ... we are back to our cottage in Kamyaka. Dhaumya is happy to see us, and has prepared a feast ... ...our twelfth year. They are ready, honed for battle. I have ensured my husbands don't have an inch of extra flab. And if they do, I make sure they get the extra exercise at night. Today the vile Jayadrath tried to abduct me. At least he tried to grab me with that intention. The vile king of Sindhu is also the husband of Duhshala, the sweet sister of the Kurus. The villain felt that he could just pick me up and leave. He doesn't know that I am also known as Agnijyotsna, that I am forged from fire. He grabbed me from behind and tried to pin me down. Since I am much taller than him, I hit him with my elbow on the head. He let me go and crouched, massaging his head. Then he tried to grab my legs, but I danced out of his way. My anklets played a tune as he lunged at me with frustration. Finally, I kicked him in the chest and he rolled over. "So, Jayadrath, what did you intend with that friendly approach of yours?" I asked him after I had planted a foot on his chest. He grunted and tried to get up, but a firm push from my foot made sure he didn't get up. Then he tried to get up, pushing with his legs and arms, thrusting with all his fairly strong body to push my foot off. But I kept him down, pinned with my foot on his chest. He heaved, cried and screamed. He tried to push off my foot with his hands. My foot remained on his chest. The balled muscle of my calf indicating the pressure that was making it hard for him to breathe. "You can't beat me, let alone take on my husbands. What was going on in your mind?" "I ... ahh..I..thought you would be..ahh ... sick and tired of staying in the forest ... you must be missing the comforts of the palace ... why not come with me?" As he said this, his push on my calves became a comforting rub, as he felt the hardness, and traced the lines of the muscles. A noticeable bulge appeared beneath his angavastra . I thought I should play with him a little. "Hear, O Jayadrath, about my husbands. The eldest, Yudhistir, is the wisest among men. His nobility and understanding of Dharma is second to none. Calm and composed he may be, but no better hurler of javelin you will find in the battlefield. He can kill an elephant with a spear." "Bhim, the second husband, of mighty countenance and power, is second to none when it comes to strength of body. He is the slayer of demons, the uprooter of trees. Entire armies quake when he comes. In rage, his mace can fell man, beast and demon alike." I pressed him even more. "I do not need to sing the virtues of Paarth, my husband Arjun. No other warrior comes close to him in wielding the bow and arrow. His bow is the divine Gandiv, and celestial weapons are for him to choose. Anger him, and chose the destruction of your clan." Jayadrath was now alarmed by recitation of my three husbands' prowess. And aroused as well. He was feeling my calf softly, tenderly, admiring my muscle. I liked it too. "Nakul and Sahadev are the wise and calm twins. They are well versed in astrology, medicine and battlefield tactics. Both are astute in the wielding of swords and well as other astras and sastras. In battle they are a formidable back up to the aforementioned three." I had now tired of Jayadrath's ministrations to my calf muscles. Lifting my foot, I kicked him on his temple, and he swooned. My husbands rushed to see the inert Jayadrath lying in the mud. He slowly revived. We debated as to what should be done with him, and Yudhistir said: "A Kshatriya, if he lays his hands on a married woman, who also happens to be a related clansperson, deserves death." These words were delivered by the authority on Dharma. But I argued: "He may deserve death, but remember, he is Duhshala's husband, the Kuru sister, who you also treat as your own. Do you want her bereaved?" "Then what do we do? Should we let him go? We should kill him" said Bhim. "No. Humiliate him, let him go back to his kingdom, and let him remember that he owes his life to our mercy." The obstinate Bhim shaved off Jayadrath's hair in clumps, and sent him scurrying with a kick to the backside. That fight has left me so horny. I want to fuck my husbands tonight. All of them. I want to make them scream, shout out my name in pleasure, in worship. I will start with Yudhistir, the calm one. It is so strange to see a man so composed, change into a slobbering, open mouthed beggar, as I make love to him. He is a king, a wise and noble one, but when he lies below me, pinned down by my arms and wrapped in my legs, he begs me, begs for release. He is also skilled with his tongue, the long and strong tongue with which he touches me inside. He begs me for Somras , by which he asks for my juices. I have plenty of that, especially after he coaxes it out of me with his tongue. Bhim, the tough one. Actually the tender one. He needs tender love. His arms can crush and squeeze any person in this world, and if he gets rough, I remind him that my legs are stronger. Yes, stronger than Bhim's mighty muscled arms. My legs are like iron maces. They can break a man into two. Or make him a man. After a long hard day trudging through the forest, there is nothing better than to fuck Bhim. He relieves all the tiredness. What can I say about Arjun? My 'Jishnu' (as I like to call him in private). He is the most skilled amongst my husbands. As Subhadra testifies, he aims to please. Possessed of good stamina, and all the tricks of the trade, Arjun is the one to have in your bed if it is an all night long lovefest you are looking forward to. Nakul and Sahadev, the sweetest, the most adorable husbands. Like children, they have required patience and nurturing to make them useful in bed. Nakul is the most perfect looking man I have ever seen. The most symmetrical face, limbs all in even proportion, a fair complexion, he is so adorable that many sages do not like him simply because their wives are filled with passion and lust when they see him. When I take him to bed, I think of him as a woman. I love to feel his soft chest (now somewhat toned with all that sword play), and caress him delicately. I like to squeeze that rounded rear of his. With both hands. When I get a little rough, he squeals, and I kiss to silence him. I love to part his soft thighs with mine, and pin his arms down. Then I thrust into him vigorously with abandon. How he squeals. After love making, he likes to snuggle in my arms. Sahadev is the naughty version of his brother. He loves a bit of punishment. He likes rough handling, to be spanked, arms twisted, legs wrapped around him. Sometimes I get a bit rough with him and he swoons. But I make sure he is OK. He is also the most acrobatic of the lot. That man can add a lot more postures to the venerable treatise of love written by Manu. ... This is the year of Agyatvas . We can't afford to be seen. If we are exposed by the Kurus, we will be forced to go into exile for another twelve years. I have laid out the plan before or motley group. Dhaumya has fleshed out the plan in great details. We will be going to King Virat's court, albeit separately. Yudhistir will be Kank, the learned Brahmin and skilled dice player. Bhim will be Vallabh, a skilled cook. Arjun, I had taken special care of. I had instructed him to grow his hair. He has also learnt exotic dance of various forms. Therefore he shall be the hijra dancer Brihanalla. As Granthik and Tantripal, keepers of the royal stables and cowsheds respectively, Nakul and Sahadev will conceal themselves usefully. I will be named Malini, and would be a sairindhri , serving Sudeshna the queen. ... We are ensconced comfortably. Yudhistir has the ears of king Virat. Bhim as Ballabh has impressed everyone with his cooking, especially of meats of all types. Brihanalla was at the receiving end of jokes, but has managed to win over the court dancers with his/her knowledge of dance, especially the erotic types. The twins are safely low profile. I believe the queen is quite impressed with me, and asks me a lot of questions. I need to be careful, lest she detect there is more to the serving maid that I am supposed to be. I know most of the courtesans look at me covetously, even the old king Virat. In this, I need to step most cautiously, for if the queen even suspects, I could be in danger of having to leave the court. Not a prospect I look forward to. ... The commander in chief Kichak has his sights on me. I see it in his eyes, I feel them following me. These days he makes flimsy excuses to come visit the queen, his sister, in her chambers. He asks for wine, and indulgently runs his eyes over my whole body ... ... Today he tried to grab me. I warned him off, saying that my husband is a Gandharv(v). I don't know how long I can hold him off. ... I told the queen that Kichak tried to take me by force. Instead of taking a stance, she tried to mitigate my misgivings by saying that he must be drunk, finally promising that she would tell him not to come to her chamber. ... I have been moved to Kichak's chambers. I am to serve wine to that despicable man ... . he tried to force himself on me again, but the providential arrival of Virat to his chambers allowed me to escape. Kichak is known to be a powerful man. Rumour has it that no man can defeat him in single combat. I have to plot his downfall. I have spoken with Bhim and Arjun; they will help me tonight to kill Kichak, which is the only way to get rid of this loathsome threat to our secret identities. Kichak came to the dancing room tonight, as promised. I had told him that I could not surrender to him in public, therefore it would have to be at night in the dancing hall, where no one would suspect such a dalliance. Bhim and Arjun were waiting, hidden. Bhim would have to do the job of killing Kichak, whereas Arjun would play the Mridang , to mask sounds of the scuffle. As Kichak stepped into the dark hall, he saw me sitting on the cushions at the opposite end. I had worn scant clothing, for I knew if I had to move fast, the dress of a sairindhri would hamper my movements. The short dress would also draw Kichak to me like a moth, making him less wary about the other dangers present. As luck would have it, the oaf Ballabh had had too much of food. He couldn't resist a belch, and was spotted. Ballabh rushed at him, but Kichak was on guard instantly. For a big man, he moved swiftly. In his rush, Ballabh stepped on a drumstick and slipped. He rushed headlong onto the pillar, where his head banged and he lay there in a swoon. This was getting more and more difficult, as Kichak had spotted Arjun also! I stood up, "Kichak, come dance with me. Brihanalla, play the Mridang. This is my dance." Kichak rushed at me: "So this fat cook is your Gandharv husband, is he? Or is it the napunsak dancer?" I countered, "Kichak, you foul mouthed lout, you who leer at women with disgusting intentions, tonight will be your last night." As he leapt at me, I rolled on my back and let him fly over me. He got up heavily and grabbed my legs. I hit him on the bridge of the nose with the heel of my hand. The bridge broke and his face was splattered with blood. I hit him hard with clenched fists and he retreated. Recouping, he said "Malini, O Malini! Had you only come to me coyly, I would not have hurt you. But now I will hurt you. I will rape you, again and again, until you wish for death. And then I will cast you out at the gates, and brand you a whore ... let us see which Gandharv comes to your rescue then!" "Kichak, I do not need a husband, neither man nor Gandharv, to protect myself. I will teach you such a lesson that people will remember for posterity the manner of your death!" We locked arms, in classic grappling pose. Were it a question of brute strength, Kichak would have won. With the knowledge of the art of grappling, I applied leverage and soon had his arm locked behind. The man struggled to twist and turn and break the lock. However, given my technique, and my not inconsiderable strength, his shoulder was straining. In a while, his ligaments gave away and the arm dislocated from the shoulder. I let him go then. "Arjun, increase the tempo a bit." I said. I stamped my feet to the tempo played out by Arjun. My anklets lending to the beats. Kichak swayed , trying to fight the pain and holding his shoulder. I had shown him the power of my arms, now it was the turn of my legs. I ran at him, feinted, and dodged a wild swing of his good arm. As he swung, I pushed and unbalanced him. He stumbled, and I tripped him to make him fall on his face. Quick as a cat, I pounced on him. With my knees like metal rams, I pounded his body. His back and sides took serious punishment. Turning his right ankle inwards, I stamped on his knee to break the joint. Kichak was now truly hobbled. Turning him around, I put my foot on his chest. Like Jayadrath before him, and like many other wrestlers in my father's capital, he was now finding it difficult to breathe. My foot, powered by my incredibly strong thighs and calves, were causing his rib cage to compress. With his good arm, he tried to push away my foot. Incredibly, like Jayadrath, and some others, his hand reached my muscular calf and began to rub it tenderly. The fight had gone out of him. Unlike Jayadrath and the others before, I couldn't let him go. Keeping my foot on his chest, I picked up his left leg and suddenly pushed it away from his body at an odd angle. He screamed, as the ligaments and tendons in his hip broke. I now sat on his belly, and was slapping his face again and again. He was in tears now. I raked my fingernails across his bare chest, bloodying it. Getting up, I leapt in the air and landed on his chest. That broke his ribcage. His lungs had ruptured and he was vomiting blood. If I left him like this, he would die slowly, perhaps in a few hours. But I was in a bloodlust. I understand now how men rage and fight and slaughter in the battlefield. The mridang player too was in a trance. With the same berserker rage, I used my legs to stomp his chest into a mass of bloodied organs and bone. Kichak was barely breathing. His eyes kept looking at me ... was it love? Sadness? I couldn't bear to see those eyes anymore. I stepped back and kicked his groin. The kick was so hard that his body was jerked a distance by the force. The eyes had rolled over, and the body was in its death throes. For good measure, I stomped on his thighs and arms, breaking a few bones here and there. A final kick to his face ended his life in an explosion of blood and teeth. The mridang ceased playing. I saw that Brihanalla had wet his/her privates. His expression of awe made me look at the polished metal wall. I saw there the reflection of the goddess of destruction. My legs and palms were red with blood. A fine spray of blood ran across my right cheek. Copious quantities of blood had splattered my bosom and my abdomen. I was the vision of destruction. I went up to Ballabh and put my foot on his chest, shaking him, trying to wake him up. I must have looked like Kali at that moment. I picked up the groggy Ballabh and led Brihanalla back to our chambers, where we cleaned up. Kichak's body was discovered the next morning. I confessed to queen Sudeshna that it was my Gandharv husband who had killed Kichak in a most brutal manner. That incident made the courtiers chary of even looking at me, so scared were they. Ballabh the cook has created a dish, a masterpiece of lentils, rice and mincemeat, all cooked together in clarified butter. The dish looks like a mash of all the ingredients. Some imaginative cook in the kitchen gave it the unofficial name of 'Kichak-di', a slang term for "like Kichak". ENDNOTES: i) Draupadi's maid and companion in her father's palace at Kamapilya, the capital of Panchala. ii) Vedas: The essential holy scriptures that are the base of the Hinduism philosophy. iii) Garud Puran: An epic that covers the conversation between Lord Vishnu and Garuda, the king of birds; One of the eighteen Purans, a part of Hindu philosophy. iv) Pacheesi: A game of dice, played with moving pieces. v) Gandharv: Celestial beings that act as messengers between the gods and humans. They are equally skilled in music and warfare. By Kavi Karmakar Email: kavikarmakar@yahoo.com Comments, reviews and suggestions are warmly invited.