381

CHAPTER THREE

ASSERTING THE DIFFERENCE

Draupadi has always been an exceptional figure. Her exceptionality is

rooted in various incidents and aspects that shape her life and personality, which

has earned her the tag of an unconventional woman. She does not generally belong

to the list of the traditionally revered women within the Indian cultural context.443

Sita enjoys a much greater socio-cultural appreciation than Draupadi for presenting

a normative model of proper feminine behaviour that is acceptable within a

patriarchal society. Draupadi, on the other hand, has earned cultural condemnation

and misogyny on account of her so called transgressive and unconventional

conduct. Sally J. Sutherland, in her article on the comparative study of these two

women characters from the epics rightly concludes:

Draupadi‘s [aggression] is directed outwards—towards her husbands,

especially Yudhisthira. But the tradition is uncomfortable with such
undisguised aggression, especially associated with a woman. Sita, on the
other hand, expresses her anger at her love object inwardly, and this manner
of handling aggression, i.e., through masochistic actions, appears to be more
socially normative in ancient and modern India for both men and women. 444

This chapter will consider Draupadi‘s ―difference‖ in the re-tellings chosen for this

research under three subheadings—the first including a cluster of three topics:

birth, beauty and marriage; the second pertaining to the question of her intellectual

attainments; and the third dealing with her relationship with other men apart from

her husbands, i.e. Krishna and Karna.

443
Draupadi, however is included in the list of ―panch-kanyas‖ whose name is considered to be
sacred as is evident from the following hymn:
―Ahalya, Draupadi, Kunti, Tara and Mandodari-
Invoking daily the virgins five.
Destroys the greatest failings.‖ Qtd in Pradip Bhattacharya, Panch-Kanya: The Five Virgins of
Indian Epics. (Calcutta: Writers Workshop, 2005), 11.
444
Sally J. Sutherland, ―Sita and Draupadi: Aggressive Behaviour and Female Role-Models in the
Sanskrit Epics.‖ Journal of the American Oriental Society 109.1 (1989), 79.
 382

BIRTH, BEAUTY, MARRIAGE

BIRTH

The exceptional nature of Draupadi‘s birth out of the sacrificial fire strikes

the very first note of her difference. She is born without the intervention of the

human, having neither a biological mother nor a father. She is ―ayonijasambhava,

not of woman born.‖445 The fact that she is ―nathavatianathbath‖ is also suggested

by her guardianless birth because it seems to introduce the motif of helplessness

and lack of protection that is going to govern her destiny. She does have ritual

parents but no real ones, just as despite having five husbands she is ultimately

without a lord, for none come to her aid at the moment of her greatest crisis. Kevin

Mc Grath draws our attention to the extreme exceptionality of Draupadi‘s birth by

pointing out the importance attaching to the absence of the biological parents,

especially the mother. In one of his footnotes in his book titled Strī: Feminine

Power in the Mahābhārata, he says, ―To be born without a human mother is a sign

of great inner strength and purity; usually this is a condition for males, as with

Drona or Krpa or Aurva, and is rare for women.‖446 The very nature of Draupadi‘s

birth marks her out as special and endows her with a kind of power that is

symbolically associated with men. One also has to keep in mind the fact that her

birth is the result of a sacrificial rite that is performed by the sage Yaja at the

behest of Drupad in order to wreak vengeance for the insult that he had received

from Drona, his one-time friend turned enemy.

445
Bhattacharya, Panch-Kanya 66.
446
Kevin McGrath, Strī: Feminine Power in the Mahābhārata. (New Delhi: Orient Blackswan,
2011), 118.
 383

The heavenly voice that is heard at the moment of Draupadi‘s birth

announces that she will cause the destruction of the Kshatriyas. The motif of

revenge frames her life from its very inception—being both the means and the end

of her birth. McGrath says in this context:

The prediction touches upon an aspect of Draupadī‘s character which is

thematically constant throughout the poem: that is, her wrathfulness and
fury, which lead to the ultimate holocaust at Kurukshetra. Draupadī has a
certain highly charged anger about her, which is unconditional and not to be
mitigated. Her lust for revenge is distinctive among the women of the
poem.447

Draupadi seems to be imprisoned within the logic and rhetoric of revenge that

pervades the epic. She does not enjoy the kind of complete life that is available to

the others. She seems to have been implanted at a particular juncture in the

narrative in order to fulfill the revenge motive.

There are also various myths associated with Draupadi‘s birth that tend to

establish a connection between this life and her previous births. In one of the

accounts, Vyasa says that in her previous birth, Draupadi was the daughter of an

ascetic, who, despite being beautiful was not able to procure a husband due to

some acts of her previous birth. She then engaged herself in the observance of

strict penance as a result of which lord Shiva was pleased and told her to ask for a

boon. She then asked for a husband who would be blessed with all

accomplishments. Granting her the wish, Shiva said that she would have five

husbands since she had repeated her prayer for a husband five times.448 In another

account related by Vyasa, Draupadi is the incarnation of Sri who is the goddess of

grace and the five Pandavas are the incarnations of the five Indras who were

447
Mc Grath 118.
448
Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXXI, Vol 1: 344-45. [The Mahabharata. Trans. Kisari
Mohan Ganguli. 12 vols. (New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal, 2001-07)]
 384

cursed to be born as humans by Shiva for their impertinence towards the Lord. It

was ordained by Shiva that Sri would become the common wife of the five Indras

reborn as the five Pandavas.449 In these epic accounts relating to Draupadi‘s

previous life, there is an attempt to provide a justification of her polyandrous

marriage. Her life seems to have come into being for the fulfillment of a certain

purpose.

The feminist re-tellings under consideration in this thesis try to address

some of the gaps in the epic narrative with regard to Draupadi‘s birth and what she

herself feels about it. Before proceeding to discuss their individual renderings, I

would like to mention that the texts of Mahasweta Devi and Shashi Deshpande

have been excluded from this discussion on Draupadi‘ birth as they do not make

any reference to the topic under consideration. As in the previous chapters, my

discussion will follow a chronological order, beginning with Irawati Karve‘s essay

on Draupadi in Yuganta.450

Irawati Karve, in her comparative study of the characters of the two epic

heroines, i.e. Sita and Draupadi, makes a reference to Draupadi‘s birth out of the

sacrificial altar. Both Sita and Draupadi are adopted rather than natural daughters

of their fathers, but Draupadi is distinct from Sita in that she is not a foundling like

the heroine of Ramayana. Draupadi and her brother are the desired products of a

ritual that was performed with the sole purpose of acquiring an offspring. Although

449
Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXLIX, Vol 1: 389-93
450
Irawati Karve, Yuganta: The End of an Epoch. Trans. Irawati Karve. (Hyderabad: Orient
Blackswan, 2007), 73-95.
 385

it is true that her emergence was rather superfluous since Drupad had wished for a

son who would take revenge upon Drona, it is nonetheless true that she was treated

with adoration at her parental home. Karve is right in pointing out that Draupadi

was known by several names, which seems to be an indication of her endeared

status. Not only is the name Draupadi associated with the name of her father, but

her other name, Yajnaseni, also follows the name of her father who had adopted

her from the fire. Karve does not add much to the epic story of Draupadi‘s birth

but the differences that she points out vis-à-vis Sita – especially with reference to

their respective births – help the readers to place the episode of the epic heroine‘s

birth in a refreshingly new perspective. Unlike Sita, who is almost like an orphan,

Draupadi‘s birth was the result of a yagna performed by her father. The name of

the Janaka who had adopted Sita is not known but the name of the Drupada who

had adopted Draupadi was Yajnasena. It thus becomes quite evident that Draupadi

is much more desired than Sita and has a much more rooted identity compared to

the heroine of the Ramayana.

Saoli Mitra‘s text451 does not offer much discussion with regard to

Draupadi‘s birth. Nevertheless, at the beginning of the performance, the kathak

sings about her birth in the following words. She says:

Drupad‘s cherished daughter, beloved princess,

Emerged a maiden from the fire of sacrifice;
She is Yagnaseni, Panchali is her name.
A woman from the Mahabharata, quite peerless. (Mitra 6)

451
Saoli Mitra, Five Lords, Yet None a Protector and Timeless Tales: Two Plays. Trans. Rita Datta,
Ipshita Chanda and Moushumi Bhowmik. (Kolkata: Stree-Bhatkal and Sen, 2006).
 386

The kathak knows that the story of Draupadi‘s birth is well-known and she

therefore chooses to be succinct about it.

Pratibha Ray‘s novel Yajnaseni452 has been stylistically framed as an

epistolary narrative where it begins with Draupadi finishing a letter that she has

written to her sakha Krishna. She feels the desperate urge to tell her own story and

she is confused about the beginning, for she says, ―From where shall I begin? My

birth? But my birth was an exception. I was born nubile. The sacrificial altar is my

mother. Yajnasena is my father. So I am Yajnaseni‖ (Ray 5). The consciousness of

being born in an extraordinary manner is reiterated time and again by Ray‘s

Draupadi. Questioning the motive behind her birth she says:

From even before birth, I was destined to avenge my father‘s insult! I was
going to be the weapon for preserving dharma on this earth and destroying
the wicked. It was for this that I was born. Should only woman be forced to
be the medium for preserving dharma and annihilating evil throughout the
ages? Is it woman who is the cause of creation and destruction? (Ray 8)

Draupadi in the epic is not seen as exercising her power of rhetoric with regard to

the question of her birth in an attempt to understand the implication behind it.

Ray‘s Draupadi questions her pre-destined role as the agent of the preservation of

dharma and relates it to the larger issue of gender whereby women have always

been constructed as the instruments for preserving the rule of law. She cites the

instance of the other epic heroine Sita, who was similarly used by the patriarchal

order to establish the rule of dharma but received nothing other than a life full of

misery and insult in return. Draupadi says:

Sita had to become the medium for the destruction of Lanka and the
establishment of Ram‘s rule. For this, she had to discard all the joys of her

452
Pratibha Ray, Yajnaseni: The Story of Draupadi. Trans. Pradip Bhattacharya. (New Delhi: Rupa,
2008).
 387

life and become a forest-dweller. Then, Ravan‘s lust imprisoned her in the
Ashok forest, insulted her, tormented her. Finally, dharma was established
on earth. The intention behind Lord Ram‘s birth was fulfilled. But
ultimately what did Sita get? The sentence of exile from Ram! Public test of
chastity! The earth cracked open at the calumny. To hide her sorrow, shame
and insults Sita sank into Earth‘s lap. (Ray 8)

She finds her own destiny to be somehow linked to that of Sita, for the latter‘s life

too was directed towards the attainment of a goal that had been predestined, i.e. the

establishment of dharma. The epic couches the incident of her birth within a

celebratory rhetoric where there is no room for this kind of a critical reflection. Her

deep sense of outrage at being reduced to a medium for fulfilling revenge is

represented incisively in Ray‘s narrative.

On another occasion, when Draupadi comes to know from Krishna that

Arjuna is going to be her husband, she feels angry at the thought that even though

she herself desired Krishna she would have to wed another man only because

Arjuna was the one capable of fulfilling her father‘s desire for revenge against

Drona. She asks:

But what of me? The garland I had been weaving since the morning to put
round Krishna‘s neck would have to be put round Arjun‘s. That too at
Krishna‘s behest! Did I have no wish of my own, no desire, no craving
simply because I was Yajnaseni—born of the sacrificial fire? My birth, life,
death—all were dictated by someone else. (Ray 23-24)

Draupadi feels disempowered by the conditions set upon her birth. She feels

crippled by the prophecy as it deprives her of agency and the free exercise of her

will. Her birth therefore imprisons her individuality within the circumscribing

limits set by the patriarchal theme of revenge. The desires of the flesh and blood

woman become less important than the motive of revenge that governs her life and

in a way haunts it. In other words, Draupadi‘s entire life gets scripted even before

she actually gets to live it. Ray‘s novel thus serves to uncover the real, human
 388

disappointments of Draupadi which remain submerged beneath her epic

characterization.

Vyasa uses the metaphor of the thread and the necklace to convince Drupad

of the polyandrous marriage that has been settled upon his daughter. He reminds

him of the momentous purpose of her birth and the need to keep the Pandavas

united, with Draupadi acting like the thread that strings the pearls into a necklace

and keeps them from falling apart. Draupadi‘s birth and the purpose behind it are

evoked by Vyasa to give sanction to the marriage of all the five Pandavas to

Draupadi. He says to Drupad in the novel:

King Drupad! Whether it be pearls or flowers, they have to be strung into

necklaces and garlands for adorning the neck of the deity....In the same
fashion, for the preservation of dharma in Aryavart today, it is necessary for
the five Pandavs to be strung together. Only your beautiful daughter
Krishnaa is capable of keeping them tied together. The flower-garland is
resplendent on the deity‘s neck but who can discount the significance of the
thread hidden in the flowers? Similarly, even if it is the five Pandavs who
will establish dharma in Aryavart, Krishnaa‘s noble role will be recorded in
sacred letters in the annals of time. The life of Krishnaa, who was born of
the sacrificial altar, is exceptional and incomparable. Then where is the
dilemma? (Ray 67-68)

Draupadi‘s birth and the prophecy made at the time of it determine the future

course of her life. Even the rationale of her marriage to the five Pandavas is traced

back to it. Ray‘s treatment of the question of Draupadi‘s birth is infused with a

critical touch and her heroine is therefore always conscious of the unusual role that

has been assigned to her by the atypical nature of her birth. Draupadi knows,

moreover, that her life will not be a bed of roses, for the unusual event of her birth

is a constant reminder of the exceptionality of the rest of her life which is yet to

come. After having garlanded Arjuna in the swayamvara she says:

All controversy was now at rest. Even if he was a poor Brahmin, it was with
this youth respected by Krishna that I would walk harmoniously on the path
of life. But was there any life free from conflict? And then my life, the life
 389

of one born of the spark created by the friction of wood and fire—how
could that be complete without conflict? (Ray 47)

Conflict is therefore inscribed at the very moment of her birth.

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni‘s novel453 begins with Draupadi demanding her

nurse to tell the story of her birth. Although this story had been told several times,

she insists on it being repeated again for, as she says, ―I think I liked it so much

because it made me feel special....‖ (Divakaruni 1). Unlike Ray‘s Draupadi who

feels burdened with the consciousness of the momentous nature of her birth,

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi draws a sense of power from the knowledge that her birth

was extraordinary. She says:

The story inspired me to make up fancy names for myself: Offering of

Vengeance, or the Unexpected One. But Dhai Ma [her nurse] puffed out her
cheeks at my tendency to drama, calling me the Girl Who Wasn‘t Invited.
Who knows, perhaps she was more accurate than I. (Divakaruni 1)

The interesting insertion of the truth behind Draupadi‘s birth in a moment of

apparent playfulness hints at the narrator‘s strategy of intended subversion of the

epic narrative through an unabashed revelation of truth. It is true that Drupad‘s

intention in organizing the sacrificial ceremony was to beget a son who would

avenge his insult at the hands of Drona, but it was also true that Draupadi had

emerged out of the flames after the much desired first-born son who was named

Dhristyadhyumna. Her unintended birth was therefore superfluous and not part of

Drupad‘s original structure of expectation. The narrator implicitly points to this by

making Dhai Ma give Draupadi the appellation of the ―Girl Who Wasn‘t Invited.‖

The epic narrative valorizes Draupadi‘s birth whereas Divakaruni deflates some of

its glory by drawing our attention to the fact that she was, after all, not wanted. The

453
Chitra Lekha Banerjee Divakaruni, The Palace of Illusions. (London: Picador-Macmillan,
2008).
 390

reversal of reading inaugurated by this shift of focus helps in shedding some of the

burden of extraordinariness that is constantly assigned to Draupadi‘s personhood

within the epic and which has made the consideration of the human side of her

personality difficult.

Divakaruni launches her Draupadi in a less formal setting to take away

some of the aura surrounding her birth. Rather than presenting her entrance into

this world as something grand, she makes Dhai Ma reminisce the clumsy manner

of her appearance. Dhai Ma says:

Even before we‘d finished cheering and clapping, even before your father
had a chance to greet your brother, you appeared. You were as dark as he
was fair, as hasty as he was calm. Coughing from the smoke, tripping over
the hem of your sari, grabbing for his hand and almost sending him
tumbling, too — (Divakaruni 4)

Apart from drawing attention to the cumbersome manner of Draupadi‘s emergence

from the altar, another significant subversion of the epic vendetta occurs when

Dhai Ma says that she is not very sure about the exact words of the prophecy that

was made at the time of her birth. The narrator here refuses to assign much

importance to what is considered to be the most decisive moment of origin of

Draupadi‘s life in the epic. The valence of the narrative then ceases to be directed

towards the single most important end that is determined for her life within the

epic, and the way is paved instead for a multi-dimensional approach that is

liberated from the necessity of conforming to the epic-dictated pattern of seeking

revenge.

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi longs for a life of action and she therefore wants the

garbled words of prophecy that she heard Dhai Ma repeat to come true. Unlike
 391

Ray‘s heroine she does not question the motive behind her birth; rather she wants

to become someone powerful enough to change the course of history. But what

really bothers her is her father‘s, i.e. Drupad‘s response to her birth, of which her

Dhai Ma has no knowledge. The memory of his reluctance to accept her gnaws her

with a sense of bitterness. Remembering it she says:

A gaunt, glittering man walked toward my brother and me as we stood hand

in hand. He held out his arms—but for my brother alone. It was only my
brother he meant to raise up to show his people. Only my brother that he
wanted. Dhri wouldn‘t let go of me, however, nor I of him. We clung
together so stubbornly that my father was forced to pick us both up together.
(Divakaruni 6)

The narrator has invested Draupadi with a distinct memory of her birth which is

rooted in an intensely personal context. One never gets to see this in the epic. A

little later Draupadi does acknowledge the fact that Drupad had been quite

generous to her in the later years but she says, ―But I couldn‘t forgive him that

initial rejection. Perhaps that was why, as I grew from a girl into a young woman, I

didn‘t trust him completely‖ (Divakaruni 6). Although Divakaruni‘s Draupadi does

not harbour any illusion about herself because of the extraordinary nature of her

birth, she finds the response of others around her a bit queer and hard to swallow.

She says:

Already the world I knew was splitting in two. The larger part, by far,
consisted of people like Sulochana [Drupad‘s wife] who couldn‘t see
beyond their little lives of mundane joys and sorrows. They suspected
anything that fell outside the boundaries of custom. They could, perhaps,
accept men like Dhri who were divinely born, to fulfil a destiny shaped by
the gods. But women? Especially women who might bring change, the way
a storm brings destruction of lightning? All my life, they would shun me.
But the next time, I promised myself as I wiped my angry tears, I would be
prepared. (Divakaruni 32)

Divakaruni makes her Draupadi conscious of the aberration that has been caused

by her exceptional birth and the price that she will have to pay for it.
 392

BEAUTY

It is well-known that Draupadi happens to be different in her beauty from

the rest of the women in the epic. First of all, she does not conform to the

stereotypical definition of a beautiful woman. Draupadi‘s beauty is of an

unconventional kind, since it departs from the traditional association of feminine

beauty with a fair skin. The dark skinned woman who emerges out of the

sacrificial fire is named Krishna on account of her complexion. Secondly, verses in

the Mahabharata abound in the description of the beauty of Draupadi‘s form, and

not only of her figure. Uniquely in the case of Draupadi, the darkness of her

complexion adds to her beauty—as is evident from numerous references in the

epic itself. For example there is a meticulous description of her beauty at the

moment of her birth:

And there arose, after this from the centre of the sacrificial platform, a
daughter also, called Panchali, who, blest with great good fortune, was
exceedingly handsome. Her eyes were black, and large as lotus petals, her
complexion was dark, and her locks were blue and curly. Her nails were
beautifully convex, and bright as burnished copper; her eye-brows were fair,
and bosom was deep. Indeed she resembled the veritable daughter of a
celestial born among men. Her body gave out fragrance like that of a blue
lotus, perceivable from a distance of full two miles. Her beauty was such
that she had no equal on earth.454

This passage alludes to the other-worldly nature of her beauty and thereby

distances Draupadi from the realm of ordinary humanity. Each part of her body is

catalogued and its beauty is described in great detail.

Draupadi‘s beauty is mentioned again as a reason for her polyandrous

marriage, as none of the five Pandavas can resist their desire for her. The epic poet

says:

454
Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXIX, Vol 1: 341-42.
 393

As the ravishing beauty of Panchali who had been modelled by the Creator
himself, was superior to that of all other women on earth, it could captivate
the heart of every creature. And Yudhishtira, the son of Kunti, beholding his
younger brothers, understood what was passing in their minds....And the
king, then, for fear of a division amongst the brothers, addressing all of
them said, ‗The auspicious Draupadi shall be the common wife of us all.‘455

Such is the power of her beauty that Yudhishthira perceives it as a threat to the

brothers‘ unity if her body is not collectively appropriated. Women have been

traditionally cast in the image of the femme fatale who is dexterous at using her

physical charms and sexuality to manipulate men and to distract them from the

path of righteousness. Beauty then is the crucial component in the seductive appeal

of a woman. The epic is full of such caveats where men are advised to stay away

from women. In one such verse, Bhishma says to Yudhishthira:

By their nature, women are kshetra, and men are kshetrajna [soul] in respect
of attributes. For this reason, persons of wisdom should not pursue women
especial (among other objects of the world). Indeed, women are like
frightful mantra-powers. They stupefy persons reft of wisdom. They are
sunk in the attribute of Passion. They are the eternal embodiment of the
senses.456

One can discern here the train of misogynist thought that is directed against

women in Indian scriptures. So when Yudhishthira sees the fire of passion burning

in the eyes of his brothers for Draupadi, he immediately decides to make her the

common wife, lest there should arise a discord amongst them. Draupadi‘s beauty

no longer remains merely a physical attribute; it gets subtly integrated into the

discourse of patriarchal legitimation of right over a woman‘s body that sees

woman‘s beauty as a destabilizing agent in a man‘s psyche. The polyandrous

marriage of Draupadi to all five brothers becomes an attempt to neutralize the

seductive appeal of her body so that patriarchal agents can appropriate it for their

political ends.

455
Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXLIII, Vol 1: 381.
456
Mbh, Ganguli, Santi Parva, Part II, Section CCXIII, Vol 9: 97.
 394

Allusions to Draupadi‘s beauty are again made at the time when

Yudhishthira stakes her during the dice-match. He pawns her like any other

commodity and ironically lists all her merits in these words even while doing so:

With Draupadi at stake, who is neither short nor tall, neither spare nor
corpulent, and who is possessed of blue curly locks, I will now play with
thee. Possessed of eyes like the leaves of the autumn lotus, and fragrant also
as the autumn lotus, equal in beauty unto her (Lakshmi) who delighteth in
autumn lotuses, and unto Sree herself in symmetry and every grace she is
such a woman as a man may desire for wife in respect of her fitness for the
acquisition of virtue and pleasure and wealth....Her face too, when covered
with sweat, looketh as the lotus or the jasmine. Of slender waist like that of
the wasp, of long flowing locks, of red lips, and of body without down, is
the princess of Panchala.457

The real Draupadi seems to be lost in this inventory of physical attributes. Her

beauty effaces her personality; or rather the way her beauty is delineated here

results in the complete obfuscation of her individuality. Draupadi herself never

articulates her own feelings vis-à-vis the question of her beauty in the epic. It is the

men who keep talking about her in terms of her beauty, thereby reducing all her

attributes to the one-dimensional essence of being beautiful. The other aspects of

her personality get subsumed under this single banner. The feminist re-tellings

tend to frame this issue within a different matrix, thereby allowing their

protagonist to critically engage with this issue and voice her feelings regarding the

problem of her beauty.

Every crisis of Draupadi‘s life seems to be indirectly precipitated by the

exceptional beauty of her form. Jayadratha is captivated by her looks as he spots

her on his journey for the purpose of marriage to the kingdom of Salva through the

Kamyaka forest. The epic passage is worth quoting here in full:

And the prince [Jayadratha] halted in the woods of Kamyaka. And in that
secluded place, he found the beautiful Draupadi, the beloved and celebrated

457
Mbh, Ganguli, Sabha Parva, Section LXIV, Vol 2: 124.
 395

wife of the Pandavas, standing at the threshold of the hermitage. And she
looked grand in the superb beauty of her form, and seemed to shed a lustre
on the woodland around, like the lightning illuminating masses of dark
clouds. And they who saw her asked themselves, ―Is this an Apsara, or a
daughter of the gods, or a celestial phantom?‖ And with this thought, their
hands also joined together. They stood gazing on the perfect and faultless
beauty of her form. And Jayadratha, the king of Sindhu, and the son of
Vriddhakshatra, struck with amazement at the sight of that lady of faultless
beauty, was seized with an evil intention.458

Draupadi‘s beauty is unparalleled. People are struck with a sense of awe at her

form. She also evokes irresistible passion in the hearts of men. Her beauty is

therefore seen as inspiring both reverence and erotic desire. This is a quality that is

often associated with the figure of the mother goddess worshipped in the form of

Shakti where her maternal and benevolent instincts are seen as coexistent with her

sexual and destructive prowess. Draupadi‘s beauty is never dissociated from the

underlying discourse of revenge that frames her life from the beginning till the

end. That is perhaps the reason why her beauty is often perceived as a threat which

is capable of wreaking destruction.

An anxiety bordering on similar lines is expressed by the Queen of the

Virata kingdom, Sudeshna, when Draupadi proposes to offer her services as a maid

to the royal household. Struck by the extraordinary beauty of her form, Sudeshna

says:

I would keep thee upon my head itself, if the doubt did not cross my mind
that the king himself would be attracted towards thee with his whole heart.
Attracted by thy beauty, the females of the royal household and my maids
are looking at thee. What male person then is there that can resist thy
attraction? Surely, O thou of well-rounded hips, O damsel of exquisite
charms, beholding thy form of superhuman beauty, king Virata is sure to
forsake me, and will turn to thee with his whole heart. O thou of faultless
limbs, O thou that art endued with large eyes casting quick glances, he upon
whom thou wilt look with desire is sure to be stricken. O thou of sweet
smiles, O thou that possessest a faultless form, he that will behold thee
constantly will surely catch the flame. Even as a person that climbs up a tree
for compassing his own destruction, even as the crab conceives for her own
458
Mbh, Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section CCLXII, Vol 3: 518.
 396

ruin, I may, O thou of sweet smiles, bring destruction upon myself by

harbouring thee.459

Sudeshna‘s worries are not very different from that of Yudhishthira expressed

earlier.460 Whereas he feared disunity among his brothers, she feels insecure about

her husband. She feels threatened by the superior beauty of Draupadi and fears that

her husband might abandon her for this woman. Draupadi‘s beauty therefore acts

as an obstacle to inter-women bonding, for the other woman here feels inferior and

insecure in her presence. It is responsible for sparking off rivalry among women—

a rivalry that is ironically rooted in the question of claiming a greater desirability

amongst men. Here too the discourse of women‘s beauty gets subsumed within the

ideological apparatus upon which the patriarchal system rests.

Sudeshna‘s fears however do come true albeit with a difference. Instead of

her husband, it is her brother Keechaka who happens to behold Draupadi in her

disguise and feels irresistibly attracted by her beauty. Like Jayadratha, he too

wants to possess her and is struck with erotic passion at her sight. He goes to

Sudeshna enquiring after the identity of the woman whom he so eagerly desires to

possess. He asks:

This beauteous lady had never before been seen by me in king Virata‘s
abode. This damsel maddens me with her beauty, even as a new wine
maddens one with its fragrance. Tell me, who is this graceful and
captivating lady possessed of the beauty of a goddess, and who she is,
and whence she hath come. Surely grinding my heart, she has reduced
me to subjection. It seems to me that (save her) there is no other

459
Mbh, Ganguli, Virata Parva, Section IX, Vol 4: 16-17.
460
As the lavishing beauty of Panchali who had been modelled by the Creator himself, was superior
to that of all other women on earth, it could captivate the heart of every creature. And Yudhishthira,
the son of Kunti, beholding his younger brothers, understood what was passing in their minds. And
that bull among men immediately recollected the words of Krishna-Dwaipayana. And the king,
then, from fear of a division amongst the brothers, addressing all of them said, ―The auspicious
Draupadi shall be the common wife of us all.‖ (Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXLIII, Vol 1:
381)
 397

medicine for my illness. O, this fair hand-maid of thine seemeth to me

to be possessed of the beauty of a goddess.461

It is quite clear in Keechaka‘s utterance that he is unable to restrain himself at the

sight of Draupadi as he compares her beauty to that of a goddess. He even talks of

losing his sanity at her sight which seems to have an intoxicating effect upon him.

The beauty of the woman who resembles a goddess is thus seen as capable of

depriving a man of his rational faculty and launching him on the path of craziness.

He also speaks of himself as being afflicted with illness and considers sexual union

with her as the only remedy. The language used by Keechaka to talk about his

passion-struck state is typical of lovers whose sense of balance and judgement

seem to be momentarily lost at the sight of their beloved. The difference in

Keechaka‘s state is that he does not long for Draupadi in the capacity of a lover but

as a lustful man whose only motive is to seek sexual favours from the object of his

desire. Beauty in this case, as in the case of Jayadratha, evokes male lust rather

than any tender feeling of love. Draupadi‘s beauty therefore becomes a source of

trouble as it draws a lot of unwanted male attention which puts her in severe crisis

more than once in her life.

Keechaka addresses Draupadi with an extensive eulogy of her beauteous

form that carries strong sexual innuendoes. He says:

Both thy bosoms, so beautiful and well-developed and endued with

unrivalled gracefulness and deep and well-rounded breasts and without any
space between them, are certainly worthy of being decked with garlands of
gold. Resembling O thou of fair eye-brows, are even as the whips of Kama
that are urging me forward, O thou of sweet smiles, O damsel of slender
waist, beholding that waist of thine marked with four wrinkles and
measuring but a span, and slightly stooping forward because of the weight
of thy breasts, and also looking on those graceful hips of thine broad as the

461
Mbh, Ganguli, Virata Parva, Section XIV, Vol 4: 23.
 398

banks of a river, the incurable fever of desire, O beauteous lady, afflicteth

me sore.462

Keechaka‘s words are unequivocal in their evocation of a highly charged sexual

appeal and his contemplation of Draupadi‘s beauty is associated with an

anticipated fulfillment of sexual desire. The note of aesthetic appraisal however

cannot be missed in his praise of her bodily form—however sinister his intentions

might be. This is an instance of Draupadi‘s beauty acting as a threat to her integrity

by attracting unsolicited male attention.

There is however a very significant episode where we see Draupadi herself

making use of her beauty and sexual appeal to coax Bheema into taking revenge

on Keechaka for his misdemeanour. She goes to him in the middle of the night and

uses her sexual power to entice him. The passage in the epic which describes this

scene is poignant in its use of a potent sexual imagery:

And Krishna of sweet smiles, finding Bhimasena in the cooking apartments,

approached him with the eagerness of a three-year old cow brought up in the
woods, approaching a powerful bull, in her first season, or of a she-crane
living by the water-side approaching her mate in the pairing season.463

Deprived of all other ways of seeking revenge, Draupadi has to ultimately resort to

the strategic use of her beauty. For women, quite often, it becomes the last resort

and the only available agency of negotiating with men. Beauty is seen here in its

empowering aspect. Having thus considered the question of Draupadi‘s beauty as

treated within the epic, the following discussion will take up a detailed

examination of the treatment of this topic in the re-tellings. It will however be

462
Mbh, Ganguli, Virata Parva, Section XIV, Vol 4: 24.
463
Mbh, Ganguli, Virata Parva, Section XVII, Vol 4: 30.
 399

important to mention that Shashi Deshpande does not dwell directly on the

question of Draupadi‘s beauty in her short story and hence it is not taken up in the

ensuing discussion.

Irawati Karve in her essay on Draupadi in Yuganta makes sparse reference to

Draupadi‘s beauty. At one place she only says that Arjuna‘s success in the archery

test had made the Pandavas win not only ―a beautiful wife but also powerful allies‖

(Karve 77). The focus of Karve‘s essay is more on the socio-historical dimension

of the epic and Draupadi‘s position within it. The next text in order of chronology

is Mahasweta Devi‘s short story ―Draupadi.‖464 Devi too refrains from speaking on

the subject of beauty, perhaps because she lays greater emphasis on the identity of

the protagonist as a woman whose looks are immaterial. It is her sex as a female

and her gender as a woman that brings disaster upon the namesake of Draupadi,

irrespective of her beauty. Beauty ceases to function as the single most governing

factor in cases where women are subjected to sexual exploitation.

The narrator of Saoli Mitra‘s text, the kathak, describes Draupadi‘s beauty

at some length. She takes pride in mentioning the dark colour of her skin. With the

help of dance gestures the kathak says, ―She‘s krishnaa, ebony-skinned...‖ (Mitra,

Five Lords 6). Echoing the account of the Mahabharata, she continues:

She is fragrant like the lotus...It is said that her fragrance scented the air for
miles. Her eyes are large and dark as a bumble bee.
She is tall and graceful.
She has beautiful hair, untied, it seems like a cascading
Stream...
She is incomparable... (Mitra, Five Lords 7)
464
Mahasweta Devi, Breast Stories. Trans. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. (Calcutta: Seagull Books,
1997), 19-38.
 400

The praise for Draupadi‘s unmatchable beauty is linked by the kathak to her luck.

She says, ―Peerless in her look, good people, and by the irony of the Gods, peerless

in her luck too‖ (Mitra 6). The extraordinariness of Draupadi‘s physical beauty is

matched with her own extraordinary status as the one who has ―five lords, yet none

a protector.‖ The valorisation of her beauty thus gets couched in a rhetoric of

irony.

Pratibha Ray‘s Draupadi gives an extended description of her beauty as it

was praised and spoken of at the time of her birth. The epic passage describing

Draupadi‘s beauty gets reverberated in her words as she speaks of the praise of her

own form. She makes the moment of her birth more dramatic by talking of how

some of the sages began to swoon at her sight and time came to a standstill.

Draupadi says:

I am not describing the beauty of my own form. People said so. Father‘s
court poets were exclaiming, ―Dark beauty, Shyama! However much you
may describe her beauty, so much is left out. Even after composing poems
all through life one will not find a simile for this incomparable loveliness.
Krishnaa is herself her own simile‖! (Ray 7)

The word that is used in the epic to describe the darkness of her complexion is

Krishnaa. The word ―Shyama‖ too carries a similar meaning. Draupadi is repeating

the words in which her beauty had come to be publicly praised ever since she was

born, but it makes her all the more self-conscious about her appearance.

When the time of her meeting with Krishna is drawing near, Ray‘s

Draupadi gets extremely perturbed at the thought of appearing before the man of

whom she has heard so much. Unable to decide upon the correct attire and

ornaments, she expresses her dissatisfaction with her own form. Draupadi says:
 401

Again and again I was standing before the mirror changing my saris,
changing my ornaments. Nothing would satisfy me. I was thinking: if it was
for facing such lovely eyes that I had been born, then why did the creator
not give me a more agreeable appearance? (Ray 20-21)

The feeling of being beautiful or otherwise arises more intensely in the presence of

the gaze of the other. Jean Paul Sartre in his work Being and Nothingness has

extensively discussed the sense of shame and self-consciousness that is evoked

within the individual as a result of the effect that the other‘s look has on the

subject. He says:

By the mere appearance of the Other, I am put in the position of passing

judgement on myself as on an object, for it is as an object that I appear to
the Other....Shame is by nature recognition. I recognize that I am as the
Other sees me.465

Although Sartre‘s discussion of this issue takes place in the context of existential

phenomenology, yet his contention is true for all debates about the relation

between the self and the other. So when the woman sees the man as the Other, she

feels intimidated by his gaze and the Other (in this case the man) is responsible for

making her feel alienated from her own body. The question of woman‘s beauty too

is based on a similar theoretical premise which presupposes that her desire to

enhance her beauty tends to grow stronger when she is confronted by the

scrutinizing gaze of the male other. The fear of disapproval or rejection by men

drives women to subject themselves to a rigorous beauty regime. Ray‘s Draupadi

is in awe of the male other i.e. Krishna, in front of whom she wants to appear her

best. While Draupadi‘s sense of inadequacy makes her complain about her

appearance, her sakhi Nitambini adores the beauty of her form and boosts up her

spirits by saying, ―‗Whom the creator has created from beauty itself, what need

does she have of ornaments, dresses, finery?‘‖ (Ray 21). Ray‘s representation of

465
Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness. Trans. Hazel E. Barnes. (New York: Washington
Square Press, 1992), 302.
 402

Draupadi‘s anxiety about her appearance poses the question of beauty as being

more subjective than is recognized in the Mahabharata.

The question of beauty arises once again in Ray‘s narrative just before

Draupadi‘s swayamvara. Contemplating her situation just moments before her

swayamvara Draupadi says, ―But I would have to appear in front of everyone for it

was my swayamvar. I would be on display before all. My beauty and radiance

would spur the competitors on‖ (Ray 39). She realizes her status as a commodity

which is put on display to be assessed while her beauty acts as the provoking

agent. At the same time, however, it is during her swayamavara that Draupadi

realizes the full extent of her charm that the beauty of her dark complexion exudes.

Speaking about the way in which she had been adorned in white diamonds by her

sakhis and finding her appearance beautiful in her own eyes she says, ―How

attractive and enchanting dark complexion could be I realised only that day after

seeing myself‖ (Ray 39). Her brother greets the arrived guests and enumerates his

sister‘s qualities in his welcome address. He says, ―This is my sister, Krishnaa, the

eminently desirable one. You have all seen her beauty. She is the finest beauty of

all Aryavart. She is also endowed with all desirable qualities‖ (Ray 40). He

literally panders her to the guests by adopting the stance and rhetoric of a

salesman. Woman‘s beauty gets commodified as an item that is advertised in front

of the prospective grooms.

When the Pandavas arrive home with the newly wedded Draupadi,

Yudhishthira announces their arrival to Kunti in ambiguous terms, thereby falling

 403

into the dilemma of honouring her instruction of dividing whatever they have

brought equally amongst themselves. Draupadi questions his motive and says:

Mother was bound to say before opening the door that the beautiful object
should be enjoyed equally by all the five brothers. That was why he
[Yudhishtira] had used such words. Perhaps, like others, he too had been
infatuated with my beauty and had conspired in this fashion to obtain me!
The other brothers would also have been attracted to me. Therefore, why
would they let such an opportunity slip from their grasp? (Ray 58-59)

The fact that Yudhishthira deliberately wanted to elicit such a response from Kunti

so that he could use it as a ground to mask his real intentions is rightly suspected

by Ray‘s Draupadi. She is able to discern the effect that her beauty has had on the

brothers, including Yudhishthira who, despite his image as the morally upright

man, is found to be failing and resorting to unethical means to possess her.

The question of beauty takes a different turn when Ray‘s Draupadi begins

to feel extremely insecure on learning about Arjuna‘s marriage to Subhadra. As the

news of his irresistible attraction and his eventual abduction of Subhadra reaches

her, Draupadi‘s faith in her own beauty gets shaken. She grows anxious about her

position as she fears competition from Arjuna‘s new wife who she has heard is

exceptionally beautiful. Draupadi wonders, ―After such a love-marriage, what need

had Phalguni of Krishnaa? Krishnaa was dark. What beauty could be hers?

Subhadra was said to be fair like the Kaumudi flower‖ (Ray 199). She suffers from

a crisis of confidence owing to the darkness of her complexion, which is a

manifestation of the popular preference for fair-skinned women. Draupadi

confesses that the appearance of Subhadra has destroyed the pride that she had

taken in her beauty:

In Indraprasth, if Subhadra remained before Phalguni‘s eyes, then he would

not even look at me even by mistake. Up till now I was proud of my beauty
and personality. I had thought that after winning me no man would fall in
 404

love with another woman. No woman of this world could be compared to

me. What was my fault in this pride? From my birth, whoever had seen me
had invariably been enchanted, would be prepared even to lay down his life
to win me. (Ray 199)

Such then is the response of Ray‘s heroine. Beauty becomes the point of rivalry

between the two women who are co-wives. Draupadi feels threatened in the wake

of her anticipated displacement from the unrivalled position that she used to enjoy

in the heart of Arjuna.

Ray devotes one entire chapter466 to the contemplation of the question of

beauty, where Draupadi is seen as lamenting her fate. She feels that the source of

all her misery lies in her beauty. Draupadi observes:

At the root of all our suffering, insult, the exile of the Pandavs, loss of
kingdom, was the frustration of winning a beautiful woman. That woman
was myself—Krishnaa!...But what was my fault except being beautiful?
Sometimes I would pray, ―O Lord, instead of this beautiful body give me
peace, give my husbands peace, return peace to Aryavart. Taking all my
beauty make the earth beautiful, make the human heart beautiful!‖...I saw
that on account of prayer and celibacy my complexion was improving....I
was becoming even more beautiful. It was as though fate was deliberately
pouring out all the beauty over me alone, to torment me. (Ray 324)

She perceives her beauty as a curse that is responsible for ruining their lives and

hence prays to get rid of it. It is her beauty that comes in the way of her seeking

employment as a hair-dresser to Queen Sudeshna (Ray 334). One can thus discern

that Pratibha Ray treats the question of beauty from multiple dimensions, making

her Draupadi vocal about her pride as well as her anxieties and apprehensions that

emanate from the consciousness of being ―beautiful.‖

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni‘s Draupadi is a true rebel. She refuses to

blindly submit to convention and questions the stereotypical definition of beauty

466
Ray, Chapter 44, 324.
 405

where it is more often than not equated with a fair skin. Arriving at her own

realization of what it means to be beautiful, Divakaruni‘s Draupadi brings about a

paradigm shift in the way the whole question of beauty is usually perceived.

Speaking of the attempts that were made to improve her complexion to which she

had most reluctantly to submit, Draupadi says:

In a society that looked down its patrician nose on anything except milk-
and-almond hues, this was considered most unfortunate, especially for a
girl. I paid for it by spending hour upon excruciating hour being slathered in
skin-whitening unguents and scrubbed with numerous exfoliants by my
industrious nurse. (Divakaruni 8)

She feels that the similarity of the skin-colour is responsible for her close bonding

with Krishna, since both of them are dark. Unsure about her ability to fulfill the

prophecy that was made at the time of her birth, Draupadi comments, ―When I was

fourteen, I gathered up enough courage to ask Krishna if he thought that a princess

afflicted with a skin so dark that people termed it blue was capable of changing

history. He smiled‖ (Divakaruni 8). Krishna‘s answer initiates Draupadi‘s change

of perception vis-à-vis her own self, culminating in the realization that she too is

beautiful. He tells her, ―‗A problem becomes a problem only if you believe it to be

so. And often others see you as you see yourself‘‖ (Divakaruni 9).

The anxiousness whether one is beautiful or not often takes deep root

within a woman‘s psyche. Women‘s beauty often gets associated with the question

of acceptance for they feel that their lives are validated only if men accept them,

and beauty functions as an important criterion for acceptance or rejection by men.

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi awakens to a realization of her own beauty on one occasion

when the royal family goes in its annual procession to the Shiva temple. Her Dhai

Ma has draped her in a beautiful sari and Draupadi feels no sense of inadequacy
 406

this time unlike the previous occasions when she would be gripped with a feeling

of inferiority. Things change forever as she tells herself, ―I, too am beautiful‖

(Divakaruni 9). Draupadi convinces herself:

I, too, am beautiful, I told myself, holding Krishna‘s words in my mind. I

tried the same gestures and found them surprisingly easy. When
noblewomen caught up and complimented me on my looks, I thanked them
as though I was used to such praise. People stood back, deferential, as I
passed….A visiting bard stared at me admiringly. Later, he would make up
a song about my unique comeliness. The song caught public fancy; other
songs followed; word travelled to many kingdoms about the amazing
princess of Panchaal, as mesmerizing as the ceremonial flames she was born
from. Overnight, I who had been shunned for my strangeness became a
celebrated beauty! (Divakaruni 9-10)

Rather than talk about beauty as an attribute that Draupadi was born with,

Divakaruni presents her Draupadi as arriving at an inner realization of her beauty

as part of a process of growing self-esteem. Beauty gets redefined as an intrinsic

value that imparts self-confidence; it no longer remains confined to physical

parameters. This constitutes a significant departure from the epic‘s treatment of the

question of beauty. While Draupadi acquires a sense of pride in her beauty, her

brother gives expression to the customary patriarchal anxiety about beautiful

women. He tells her that she is so beautiful that it might land her in trouble some

day:

The problem with you is, you‘re too pretty for your own good. It‘ll get you
into trouble with men sooner or later, if you‘re not careful. No wonder
Father‘s been worrying about what to do with you. (Divakaruni 25)

Draupadi, however, is quite surprised to hear such comments from her brother,

who had never expressed such conservative opinion before. Divakaruni shows how

women‘s beauty is constructed as both a virtue and a curse within the patriarchal

discourse. Beautiful women are seen as attracting both worthy suitors and lustful

glances. This confusion embedded in the discourse of women‘s beauty makes it a

deeply problematic aspect of femininity.

 407

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi speaks rather ironically about the general obsession

of women to beautify themselves and retain their beauty. She talks about her

companions who would make special efforts to protect their skin from getting

tanned under the sun. She used to feel annoyed with their tantrums as they huddled

beneath the umbrellas for protection. Draupadi herself is attracted by the charms of

the summer season and loves to spend time outdoors, not caring a bit for the

damage that the scorching sun might wreak upon her already dark complexion.

Mocking at the attempts of the other girls to preserve the fairness of their skin,

Draupadi says, ―This pitiless sun—even with a canopy, it was so bad for the skin!

They‘d have to spend hours soaked in yoghurt and turmeric paste to counter its

ravages‖ (Divakaruni 53). Draupadi does not endorse the common remedies that

women often apply to improve their skin colour. She voices her strong disapproval

of such practices that tend to curb women‘s freedom of movement for fear of

becoming darker in the colour of their skin. Divakaruni takes a critical stance

towards the patriarchal construction of women‘s beauty by making her Draupadi

unwilling to accept the conventional wisdom regarding it. Rather than submit to

the stereotypical definition of feminine beauty, she is shown as arriving at an

alternative understanding of what constitutes true beauty.

MARRIAGE

The next issue under consideration is Draupadi‘s marriage. The epic‘s

representation of Draupadi‘s marriage occurs in the Swayamvara Parva which is a

subsection of the first Book i.e. the Adi Parva. The swayamvara is the first

occasion when we get to see Draupadi after her emergence from the sacrificial

altar. A detailed description is given about the elaborate arrangements that were
 408

made for the purpose and it is only after a considerable length of time that

Draupadi makes her appearance before the arrived guests. The sense of a spectacle

that is eagerly awaited is therefore meticulously built up by the epic poet. The

reason behind such a strategy might be to highlight the extraordinariness of the

occasion and its impact on the subsequent course of action. It also serves to

construct Draupadi‘s identity as special so that the whole enterprise of the

swayamvara and the difficulty of the test can be justified. It is on the sixteenth day

of the celebrations that Draupadi makes her much awaited appearance in front of

the guests and suitors. The Pandavas have also arrived there in the guise of

Brahmins. They are struck with desire at the sight of the extremely beautiful and

resplendent Draupadi467 as she arrives in the hall, thereby giving a hint of the

forthcoming events.

When Karna rises to compete in the archery test that has been devised by

Drupad as a yardstick for making the choice of a bridegroom, knowing very well

that none other than Arjuna would be able to meet the challenge, Draupadi voices

her protest by saying that she cannot choose a low born person as her husband.468

She is shown as sharing the caste prejudice of her age, which was deeply

entrenched in the society of the epic times. The epic goes on to narrate the

consecutive failure of the royal heroes as they try their hands at the bow. It is then

that Arjuna rises to lift the bow. Amidst mixed feelings of doubt and praise

467
And the sons of Pritha also, of mighty arms, and the illustrious twin heroes, beholding Draupadi,
were all likewise struck by the shafts of Kama. (Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXXXIX, Vol
1: 374)
468
But seeing Karna, Draupadi loudly said, ―I will not select a Suta for my lord.‖ (Mbh, Ganguli,
Adi Parva, Section CLXXXIX, Vol 1: 374)
 409

expressed by the Brahmins, he succeeds in shooting the mark and Draupadi

becomes his wife:

And Arjuna the accomplisher of inconceivable feats, having won Draupadi

by his success in the amphitheatre, was saluted with reverence by all the
Brahmanas. And he soon after left the lists followed close by her who thus
became his wife.469

Unhappy about this development, the Kshatriyas rise in protest against Drupad for

having bestowed his daughter upon a Brahmin. The focus shifts from Draupadi to

the fight that breaks out between the Kshatriyas and two Pandavas – Bheema and

Arjuna, disguised as Brahmins. It is interesting to note that the swayamvara sabha

(assembly-hall) which had been built for the ceremony literally turns into a

battlefield soon after the winning of the archery test by Arjuna. In fact, the contest

that was implicit during the test becomes explicit later on. The woman around

whom the entire ceremony revolves remains important only till the moment of her

being claimed and owned. The significance of her existence therefore derives from

her status as the unclaimed and unmarried woman. The moment she is won by

Arjuna, the spectacle shifts from a mere display of individual heroism to a larger

caste conflict that takes the attention away from Draupadi as the immediate object.

She is no longer the ruling interest since she has already been ―won‖ by a man.

Thereafter there are other masculine interests that engage the narrative. The men

are always in the position of authority and their status as the controlling agents

determine the politics of representation. The irony is that in this whole brouhaha

over Draupadi, it is she herself who is missing as an individual subject, even

though she is shown to have exercised a negative choice in rejecting Karna. The

469
Mbh,Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXL, Vol 1: 376.
 410

epic‘s treatment of Draupadi‘s marriage does little justice to the portrayal of her

innermost feelings.

Having seen the might of Bheema and Arjuna, Krishna comes forward to

request the kings to stop the fight and declares that Draupadi has been justly won

by the Brahmin, whom he alone knows to be Arjuna. Soon after, the Pandavas

reach their cottage where they declare the newly married Draupadi as the ―alms‖

that they have brought for the day and Kunti, apparently unknowing, asks them to

enjoy their alms together.470 This command seals the fate of Draupadi as the need

to honour the words of Kunti reigns supreme in the mind of the Pandavas. Here the

epic provides one of the most significant examples of the devastating effects of

language. Had Yudhishthira not used the term ―alms,‖ Kunti might not have given

such a command. Whether the use of the term was deliberate or not has been

examined in the re-tellings, but its employment is suggestive of the way in which

Draupadi is again represented as a commodity. The crisis arising out of the need to

honour the mother‘s words lands all of them in a great dilemma as Draupadi had

been ―won‖ by Arjuna alone. On being asked by Yudhishthira to wed her, Arjuna

declines, saying that Draupadi should first be married to Yudhishthira, he being the

eldest, followed by Bheema, himself, Nakula and Sahadev. He says:

O king [Yudhishthira], do not make me a participator in sin. Thy behest is

not comfortable to virtue. That is the path followed by the sinful. Thou
shouldst wed first, then the strong-armed Bhima of inconceivable feats, then
myself, then Nakula, and last of all, Sahadeva endued with great activity.471

470
Vaisampayana said, ―Then those illustrious sons of Pritha, on returning to the potter‘s abode,
approached their mother. And those first of men represented Yajnaseni unto their mother as the
alms they had obtained that day. And Kunti who was there within the room and saw not her sons,
replied, saying, ‗Enjoy ye all (what ye have obtained).‖ (Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section
CLXLIII, Vol 1: 380)
471
Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXLIII, Vol 1: 381.
 411

On hearing these words of Arjuna, all the Pandavas turn their eyes on Draupadi

and they are struck with irresistible desire. On perceiving this, Yudhishthira

declares that she shall be the ―common wife‖ of all of them. However outrageous

this proposal may seem, his words are eventually agreed upon and even given

legitimacy by the account of Draupadi‘s previous birth as recounted by Vyasa.

When Yudhishthira approaches Drupad with this suggestion, the latter

strongly resists it by saying:

The practise is sinful in my opinion, being opposed to both usage and the
Vedas. O best of Brahmanas, nowhere have I seen many men having one
wife. The illustrious ones also of former ages never had such a usage
amongst them. The wise should never commit a sin. I, therefore, can never
make up my mind to act in this way. This practise always appeareth to me to
be of doubtful morality.472

Draupadi seems to be precariously positioned between the contradictory status of

the wife and the public woman or the prostitute. Ram Padarth Sharma, in his study

of women in Hindu literature, identifies the peculiarity of Draupadi‘s position as a

problem of representation and convincingly makes the following argument:

The problematic of Draupadi‘s anomalous marriage is basically a

problematic of correct representation. Torn between the contrary definitions
of wifehood and prostitution, the author of the Mahabharata ambiguates
(may be on purpose) on the question of Draupadi‘s union with five men at a
time. It would be nonsensical to describe such a union as marriage as it
would be blasphemous to call it prostitution. So to avoid the devil and the
deep sea, the author has to concoct a context to accommodate such a union
into the Indo-Aryan frame of reference....Critically examined, Draupadi‘s
marriage appears to be a case of wife-sharing—an arrangement mutually
agreed upon by all the Pandava Princes and as such something that Drupada
and his son are unable to resist. Draupadi emerges as the solitary epic
woman who is locked in this sort of identity crisis. Call her a wife or call her
a public woman, what you choose but you cannot identify a simplistic
definition for her simultaneous association with five formidable royal
brothers. This was the problem of the epic writer and this remains the
problem of the epic reader. Draupadi‘s tragedy is that she is neither a wife
nor a public woman even though she is both at a time.473

472
Mbh, Ganguli, Adi Parva, Section CLXLVIII, Vol 1: 388-89.
473
Ram Padarth Sharma, Women in Hindu Literature. (New Delhi: Gyan Publishing House, 1995),
203-04.
 412

This problematic status of Draupadi‘s marriage and her ambivalent chastity

render her susceptible to the barbed comments of Karna who calls her a public

woman in the midst of the assembly-hall and instructs Duhshashana to strip her.

Without any fault of her own, she has to bear the brunt of being castigated as a

prostitute. The Pandavas‘ reputation comes under threat as such allegations are

made against their common wife and on a later occasion Bheema himself

expresses his doubt about the status of the offspring which is to be begotten by

such a woman.474 It becomes quite evident that the epic poet rushes in with a

divine intervention to prevent her from getting publicly stripped, thereby making

ground for the alternative logic that had not Draupadi been ―chaste‖ she would not

have been rescued. The epic representation of Draupadi‘s marital status vis-à-vis

her chastity is therefore problematic since being the wife of the illustrious and

morally superior Pandavas she cannot be a public woman, and it is equally

problematic to put her on the same pedestal as the other epic heroine, Sita. There is

a patriarchal politics underlying the question of Draupadi‘s chastity because the

very debate surrounding the conflict between being chaste and unchaste has been

constructed by patriarchy in its attempt to control female sexuality. When Arjuna

takes several wives his reputation is never put under the scanner but Draupadi is

subjected to severe censure for no fault of hers. She had always wanted to be the

wife of only one man – Arjuna. It is her husbands who force her to accept the

polyandrous marriage for their own convenience and make her suffer a lifetime of

474
O Dhananjaya, it has been said by Devala three lights reside in every person, viz, offspring, acts
and learning, for from these three hath sprung creation. When life becometh extinct and the body
becometh impure and is cast off by relatives, these three become of service to every person. But the
light that is in us hath been dimmed by this act of insult to our wife. How, O Arjuna, can a son born
from this insulted wife of ours prove serviceable to us? (Mbh, Ganguli, Sabha Parva, Section LXXI,
Vol 2: 140)
 413

denouncement. Having examined the epic representation of the question of

marriage, my following discussion will now take up the consideration of this issue

in the various re-tellings.

Irawati Karve‘s text Yuganta: The End of an Epoch, deals with the question

of Draupadi‘s marriage in a slightly different manner. Karve lays down the ancient

rules with regard to marriage, kinship and the rights of succession according to

which the younger brother could not get married before the elder one. First, as

Karve points out, the elder brother could not perform the last rites of his parents

and the duties of a householder without getting married. Secondly, an elder brother

had no access to his younger brother‘s wife whereas the younger brother had rights

over the elder brother‘s wife. Therefore Karve justifies the polyandrous

arrangement by giving the following argument:

Thus the marriage of the younger brother before the elder deprived the elder
of his social, familial and religious rights, and for this reason such a
marriage was considered a sin. Had Arjuna married Draupadi first, his elder
brother could not have married her. On the other hand, Dharma as the elder
had the right to marry her though she had been won by Arjuna. (Karve 78)

Karve says that had Yudhishthira got married to Draupadi, then the rest of the four

brothers would have automatically got right over her according to the protocol of

the times but the epic seems to avoid this strategy. Instead, it is Vyasa who comes

up with the story of Draupadi‘s previous birth in order to justify her polyandrous

marriage so that any possibility of discord arising amongst them as a result of their

collective affection for her could be avoided.

Karve‘s argument is right when examined in the light of the incidents of

polyandry which seem to have been in practice since the Vedic ages. The Rigveda
 414

mentions the gods Asvins who are twins and who are shown as wooing Suryaa and

are ultimately successful in claiming her hand as their wife. The following verses

from the text serve to illustrate this:

The Daughter of the Sun your car ascended, first reaching as it were the goal
with coursers.
All Deities within their hearts assented, and ye, Nāsatyas, are close linked
with glory. (Rigveda 1.116.17)475

The Daughter of the Sun with all her glory, O ye Nāsatyas, chose your car to
bear her. (Rigveda 1.117.13)

The youthful Daughter of the Sun, delighting in you, ascended there your
chariot, Heroes. (Rigveda 1.118.5)

Aśvins, the car which you had yoked for glorious show your own two
voices urged directed to its goal.
Then she who came for friendship, Maid of noble birth, elected you as
Husbands, you to be her Lords. (Rigveda 1.119.5)

There is another reference to the Maruts who are also shown as being married to a

single wife, Rodasi:

Far off the brilliant, never-weary Maruts cling to the young Maid as a joint
possession.
The fierce Gods drave not Rodasī before them, but wished for her to grow
their friend and fellow. (Rigveda 1.167.4)

When chose immortal Rodasi to follow- she with loose tresses and heroic
spirit-
She climbed her servant's chariot, she like Surya with cloud-like motion and
refulgent aspect. (Rigveda 1.167.5)

Instances such as these serve to illustrate the fact that polyandry was not quite

uncommon, especially during the Vedic times, and the case of Draupadi‘s marriage

to the five Pandavas did have a precedent. Moreover, the custom of the elder‘s

brother‘s wife getting married to the younger brother also seems to have been in

vogue, as is quite evident in the system of the niyoga i.e. levirate, as is pointed out

by Karve. Karve therefore attempts to ground the polyandrous marriage of

475
The references from the Rigveda are from Ralph T.H. Griffith‘s translation. (The Hymns of the
Rigveda. Trans. Ralph T. H. Griffith. 1896. <[Link]>). The first numeral refers to
the book number, the second to the hymn number and the last to the verse number. For eg, Rigveda
1.116.17 refers to book number 1, hymn number 116 and verse number 17 respectively.
 415

Draupadi within a historical and socio-cultural perspective, thereby seeking to

justify the practice. This however does not alleviate the outrageousness of the act

that is perpetrated upon her.

While considering the question of marriage in Mahasweta Devi‘s short

story ―Draupadi,‖ the first thing that strikes the reader is the contrast between the

epic Draupadi and Mahasweta Devi‘s Draupadi/Dopdi, which is most pronounced

especially with regard to their respective marital status. Whereas the former was

forced into polyandry, the latter‘s distinction lies in her monogamous status.

Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak brings out this distinction in her foreword to the

English translation of the short story.476 The husbands of the epic Draupadi are

―legitimately pluralized‖477 by being appropriated within the frame of a

polyandrous marriage which is then problematized in Mahasweta Devi‘s short

story. Dopdi is married to Dulna Majhi—a monogamous marriage which seems to

counter the polyandrous status of the epic Draupadi. On the other hand, Spivak

rightly points out that despite being wedded to five husbands, Draupadi‘s position

is ―singular‖ in the sense that she is not coupled with a single man. This singularity

gets challenged in the short story where the monogamous Draupadi is firstly

shown as being involved in Naxalite activities and then as being gang raped. It

does not take much time to reverse her position from being a woman who is safely

ensconced within the folds of a monogamous marriage to that of woman who is

476
And in fact it is Draupadi who provides the only example of polyandry.…She is married to the
five sons of the impotent Pandu. Within a patriarchal and patronymic context, she is exceptional,
indeed, ‗singular‘ in the sense of odd, unpaired, and uncoupled. Her husbands, since they are
husbands rather than lovers, are legitimately pluralized….Mahasweta‘s story questions this
‗singularity‘ by placing Dopdi first in a comradely, activist, monogamous marriage and then in a
situation of multiple rape. (Spivak, Foreword 10)
477
Ibid.
 416

brutally subjected to gang rape. Another reading of her predicament poses a

serious threat to the so called legitimacy of the epic Draupadi‘s polyandrous

marriage. Mahasweta Devi takes the unasked question that underlies the marriage

in the epic and turns it into a situation of explicit sexual exploitation in her short

story, thereby making an ironic commentary on the plight of the original Draupadi.

Polyandry is a systematic ordering of what would otherwise have amounted to an

act of either rape or prostitution. The moment the rapists get re-designated as

husbands within a polyandrous arrangement the focus turns away from the woman.

The epic narrative therefore removes the possibility of any serious treatment of the

question of the sexual exploitation of Draupadi to which Mahasweta‘s short story

draws attention in an oblique manner.

Saoli Mitra‘s representation of Draupadi‘s marriage through the voice of

the kathak is critical of the patriarchal assumptions of the epic narrative. As

various suitors start arriving to stake their claims for Draupadi‘s hand on the

declaration of the swayamvara by Drupad, the kathak takes a dig at the pride and

inflated confidence of the royal guests who think that they will be able to ―win‖

Draupadi and claim her. She says:

Yes gentlemen! However tough the test may be, the self-confidence of their
royal highnesses is boundless, you see. They are men after all! Each thinks
he will come, conquer, slip on the garland, grab the bride and drag her off
with him. (Mitra, Five Lords 8)

Rather than sing encomiums in honour of the guests, the kathak chooses to expose

their foibles. Their image as heroic warriors is dashed to the ground in her

relentless and derisive mode of narration. She imitates the gait and gestures of

some of the kings as they enter the hall and adds a lot of humour to a scene that is

presented in a very somber manner in the epic. Thereafter she goes on to describe
 417

Draupadi‘s arrival and the mesmerizing effect that her presence has on the suitors.

As the Kshatriya suitors fail in their attempt, a Brahmin youth comes ahead to

make his attempt and we are told about Draupadi‘s instantaneous liking for this

man (Mitra, Five Lords 18). The epic does not talk about her feelings at this point

of time—the entire focus being on the narration of the ceremony from an

impersonal perspective. The kathak tells us of Draupadi‘s enhanced beauty at the

moment of garlanding Arjuna:

Draupadi‘s eyes sparkle; the sunlight filters through a gap in the canopy and
strikes her face, and the girl, as radiant as a flame, has grown doubly
alluring. She gazes, enthralled, at her new husband. (Mitra, Five Lords 18-
19)

Draupadi‘s disappointment arising from her later marriage to the rest of the

four brothers gets very poignantly registered when juxtaposed against her ecstasy

on getting married to Arjuna. Draupadi‘s joy remains unabated even after seeing

the apparently acute penury of the youth whose hand she holds to follow (Mitra,

Five Lords 21). The kathak speaks of her excessive delight in accepting him. She

deliberately draws the picture of Draupadi‘s supreme happiness in order to

emphasise her love for Arjuna—a point that has not received much attention in the

epic. Yet her true feelings get articulated in this re-telling where she seems to be

basking in the glory of her new-found happiness. As the Pandavas reach their

dwelling and call their mother, the kathak, enacting the role of Kunti, expresses

regret over the diktat that she had unknowingly pronounced regarding the equal

sharing of whatever it is that the Pandavas have brought. Despite her lament, it is

true that she had always wanted her sons to live their deserved life as kings and the

kathak therefore points out her hidden motive in giving an apparently unintentional

command to them. The kathak analyses thus:

 418

She [Kunti] had always felt that her sons are the sons of a king, that they
have been wronged. It was up to her to have them reinstated. And Kunti is
wise. She knows that disputes arise mainly over property and over women.
If her sons were to fall out with each other over a woman, how would they
recover their lost kingdom? Kunti looks at Draupadi again. (Mitra, Five
Lords 23)

Draupadi‘s fate is decided as Yudhishthira agrees to carry out Kunti‘s order

and the kathak says with a smile, clapping her hands in a gesture of sarcastic

mockery, ―So, everything was decided. But no one even thought of asking

Draupadi‖ (Mitra, Five Lords 24). The irony of the situation is thus underlined in

Mitra‘s text. What in the epic is stated in a very matter of fact manner gets

represented in a subversive way through the kathak‘s narration as she comments

upon the transformation of Draupadi into a commodity to be consumed by the five

brothers. She says, ―And, at the mediation of Vyasdev, Draupadi got married to all

the five Pandav brothers. Draupadi, the king‘s beloved daughter, became the

property of the Pandavs!‖ (Mitra, Five Lords 24). Commenting on the

contradictory status of Draupadi‘s chastity, the kathak says, ―Draupadi becomes a

virtuous wife, with five husbands‖ (Mitra, Five Lords 24). What she actually tries

to do is to draw attention to the double standards of the epic narrative, informed as

it is by a predominantly masculinist ideology, whereby a woman who sleeps with

more than one man is branded as unchaste whereas Draupadi‘s reputation, linked

with the name of her illustrious husbands, remains unsullied. Despite being the

wife of five men, Draupadi can be certified as chaste. The question of chastity

bothers patriarchy in a way that nothing else does and therefore the kathak‘s

utterance makes a mockery of the patriarchal construction of chastity, the

definition of which can be moulded according to the interests of men. The way in

which the decision is imposed on Draupadi without seeking her opinion also finds
 419

mention in the kathak‘s statement as she contemplates, ―Did she want this? Or

didn‘t she….No one knows, Good Sirs…‖ (Mitra, Five Lords 24).

The rule laid down about the polyandrous marriage of Draupadi gets

violated when Arjuna happens to enter her bedchamber while she is with

Yudhishthira, as a result of which he has to leave for twelve years‘ celibate exile in

the forest. The kathak mentions Draupadi‘s sorrow at not being able to spend time

with the man whom she loved the best and contrasts it with Arjuna‘s life in the

forest where he takes multiple wives. Male hypocrisy surrounding the rhetoric of

chastity is again exposed in the kathak‘s indictment of Arjuna‘s conduct. She says:

As for Arjun—he did not quite keep the vow of celibacy during his exile. It
seems the rule of abstinence applied only to living with Draupadi. Arjun did
not lack female company during his banishment. Ulupi, Chitrangada,
Subhadra... (Mitra, Five Lords 44)

The transgression of the rule regarding celibacy by Arjuna draws no flak from the

epic narrator but Mitra‘s re-telling grounds the epic narrative within a critical

framework whereby the patriarchal blindness of the epic vis-à-vis the question of

gender can be brought to light and criticized. The epic‘s treatment of the question

of chastity is revealed to be quite unjust to women, as is evident in the case of

Draupadi.

Pratibha Ray, in her novel Yajnaseni makes her Draupadi share her

innermost thoughts on the eve of her swayamvara. She does not seem to be struck

by a sense of anger at being intimated of the actual motive behind her

swayamvara. She comes to know about the difficult test planned to qualify Arjuna

who is her father‘s favourite as well as her desired husband, since no one else has

the requisite skill to pass the test. Draupadi‘s deep-rooted and unquestioning faith
 420

in Krishna makes her feel assured about the goodness of Arjuna as he happens to

be Krishna‘s sakha, i.e. a dear friend. Her mind has no qualms about accepting

Arjuna despite her awareness of the intention of Drupad behind securing him as his

son-in-law. It is her devotion for Krishna that dilutes any sense of anger that she

might otherwise have felt at the pre-determined course of events. Ray does not

represent Draupadi at this stage of the narrative as an angry woman who questions

or critiques the patriarchal motive governing her marriage. As the news of the

supposed demise of the Pandavas and their mother Kunti in the lac house reaches

Draupadi on the eve of her swayamvara, she gets extremely agitated at the thought

of having to remain unmarried for the rest of her life or getting married to someone

other than Arjuna. Since she considers herself already betrothed to Arjuna in her

mind, getting married to anyone else would amount to a violation of her honour

and chastity. Ray heightens the irony of the situation by making her Draupadi

extremely particular about the preservation of her honour which is going to be so

outrageously violated in the future course of events. She is shown as praying to the

idol of the Goddess Parvati just before her wedding:

Devi! Preserve my honour....If the person I have accepted in my heart as my

husband has been burnt to death, is that not an insult to me? Then what is
the point in my remaining alive? If anyone other than Arjun was successful
in passing the test, Father would accept him as son-in-law, but how can I
take him as husband? If there is truly something called dharma, then
preserve my dharma as a chaste wife. (Ray 36)

How this sincere prayer of Draupadi goes unheard becomes clear when examined

in the light of subsequent events.

Pratibha Ray‘s Draupadi speaks of her sense of unease on entering the

marriage hall—while her feelings are glossed over in the epic. The narrative then

proceeds to recount the trial of the arrived heroes; the dismissal of Karna as a
 421

potential suitor and the final piercing of the target by a Brahmin youth who is

actually Arjuna in disguise. Ray‘s Draupadi speaks of her dilemma as she is asked

to garland this youth for she is not aware of his true identity. She is struck by his

resemblance to Krishna and ultimately overcomes her hesitation by rationalizing

her thoughts. She hears an inner voice which seems to tell her that in marrying this

young man she will be marrying Arjuna, since Krishna is present in every living

being, including both Arjuna and this Brahmin youth. She says:

O Krishna! You are present in everyone, so it is you who must be in sakha

Arjun and this Brahmin youth. Therefore, he who is Arjun is also this brave
youth. In them it is you who are all. Therefore, in this Brahmin youth it is
Arjun whom I wed with all my heart and soul. (Ray 46)

Ray‘s representation of Draupadi‘s marriage is different in its emphasis on her

devotion to Krishna which guides her throughout the narrative. She emerges as a

devout believer whose acceptance of her fate is made easier on account of her

belief in Krishna as the controlling authority. The overarching discourse of bhakti

seems to take over as Draupadi‘s guiding principle in life. She is resigned to her

fate without any grudges.

Draupadi‘s anger surfaces at the idea of being a passive recipient of the

diktat of Kunti and Yudhishthira‘s readiness to abide by it. She questions the ethics

of such a decision which would amount to a violation of her dharma as a woman.

The question of chastity reigns supreme in her mind as she finds the Pandavas‘

proposal of sharing her as the common wife quite outrageous. Ray shows her

Draupadi as extremely perturbed at the thought of losing her status as a chaste

woman—a concern that makes her revolt against this decision in an emphatic

manner. She says:

 422

Why should I accept the other brothers as husbands? Would that not destroy
my dharma? The very idea was ridiculous: one woman to live as the wife of
five men! There would be no other such instance in the world. Why should I
silently bear such an insult? Was I a lifeless statue? Lust-crazed by my
beauty, bereft of reason and judgement, would these brothers impose upon
me their whimsical authority and should I accept that? (Ray 56)

The epic Draupadi‘s thoughts are never given any scope of expression even at this

critical juncture of the narrative when a palpably condemnable decision is taken

about her wifehood. Ray, on the contrary, chooses to make her Draupadi vocal at

this moment, even though prior to this event she has been portrayed as having a

calm and resigned temperament. Ray‘s Draupadi is able to recognize the real

reason behind this decision which, as she discerns, emanates from the brothers‘

irresistible attraction towards her exceptional beauty and charm. She gets acutely

worried about her predicament and finds herself in a quandary. Unable to resolve

upon the proper course of action, Draupadi asks:

Was it the integrity of my womanhood that was of greater moment to me or

the mother‘s word, the protection of my husband‘s and his brothers‘
dharma? To sacrifice myself for safeguarding the dharma of others—was
that my duty, or was it my duty to choose one husband for the sake of my
self-respect and happiness? This I could not make out! (Ray 60)

Draupadi contemplates on the conflict of interests that this situation has given

rise to and weighs the various options that are potentially available to her. She

keeps thinking of Krishna, who might have been able to rescue her from this

situation by suggesting the right course of action. Time and again Ray shows her

Draupadi as depending upon him in moments of crisis. Even in the Mahabharata

she falls back upon Krishna during the most critical moment of her life i.e. her

disrobing, but Ray gives a much more important space to Krishna in her

representation of Draupadi‘s devotion. He occupies a significant space in her life

both as a dear friend and as her saviour. As Draupadi reminisces about Krishna, he

appears on the scene with his brother Balaram. Kunti tells him about the dilemma
 423

that her command has given rise to and seeks his intervention. It is at this moment

that Draupadi becomes aware of the fact that the Brahmin youth is none other than

Arjuna in disguise and the rest of the brothers are the Pandavas in the presence of

their mother Kunti. The joy of this recognition, however, is soon forgotten in the

anxiety of the decision to be taken to resolve the crisis at hand. Krishna suggests

that the exceptional beauty of Draupadi is likely to be the cause of a future rift

between the brothers and advises that she get married to them for the preservation

of their unity. He also opines that the final decision has to be taken by Draupadi

herself. On hearing his words, Draupadi finds her vision cleared and decides in

favour of the polyandrous marriage to all the five brothers. She takes shelter in

philosophical rationalization to justify her decision.

Draupadi interprets her situation in terms of a conflict between the personal

and the universal—the personal being her reputation as a chaste woman and the

universal being the preservation of dharma. She chooses to sacrifice the personal

at the altar of the common good. Draupadi is thus shown as a woman who rises

beyond the trivial issue of personal reputation to contribute to the larger welfare of

the human community. The question of chastity, which even a little while ago had

seemed to be bothering her so much, recedes to the background to make way for a

greater cause. She says:

From Krishna‘s hint I had comprehended this much that for a greater cause
a lesser interest could be sacrificed. If I did not take five husbands then my
renown as a sati would increase, but thereby Mother‘s words would not be
honoured, the Pandavs would not be able to safeguard truth. The
establishment of dharma on earth would be hindered. Therefore, I should
sacrifice myself. (Ray 63)

Ray‘s Draupadi is shown as achieving a mental liberation from the narrow

understanding of chastity as it is defined within traditional patriarchal discourse.

 424

Krishna‘s words make her think differently and she gets prepared to abide by his

opinion. But Krishna too can be seen as acting as an agent of patriarchy by

positing the establishment of the theory of dharma as a more comprehensive goal.

To this end he manipulates Draupadi into surrendering to the political game which

can be accomplished only if the Pandavas remain united. There seems to be a

vicious circle at work here, whereby on the one hand Draupadi is made to

surrender her ―chastity‖ for a greater cause and on the other hand, a certain

mechanism is introduced in order to ensure that Draupadi regains her ―chastity‖

after her marriage to each of the brothers. There is a double standard at work here

which exposes the fact that patriarchy cannot be comfortable without the guarantee

of female chastity within the institution of marriage even if it happens to be a

consciously chosen arrangement of polyandry where not the wife, but the husbands

are given full right of choice.

Having contemplated the question of chastity and taken shelter in the

philosophy of the ultimate worthlessness of material objects, Ray‘s Draupadi

makes the following declaration about the futility of worrying about the

desecration of her body:

I Yajnaseni, born of the sacrificial altar for the preservation of dharma! If,
impelled by greed for this mortal body, heroes like the Pandavs had bound
themselves by a vow to their mother, then in their dharma-yajna let this
body become an oblation! In reality what was this body? From where did it
come and where did it go? What did I know? For I was not that body....No
one part of my body was Krishnaa. So let everyone be happy getting this
body. Let them be united. Why should I be an obstacle? This body made up
of five elements—fire, water, earth, air, ether—after offering it to five
husbands would I be able to remain a sati? What was the definition of sati? I
knew that remaining faithful to one‘s husband was chastity. So I would have
to remain faithful to five husbands. While offering myself to one, I would
have to surrender myself wholly. If I did not do so, I would be unchaste. I
thought—man‘s mind is so distrustful and so full of mysteries that it does
not itself know whether it is capable of surrendering itself fully to another or
not. Therefore, if for this reason I was called unchaste, that was nothing to
 425

grieve over. In having five brothers as husbands I would get Arjun too—this
was enough to remove all my depression and sorrow. (Ray 63)

In other words, she challenges the existing definition of a sati by reframing the

question of chastity in terms of spiritual fidelity. But Ray also shrewdly suggests

that Draupadi‘s joy at having acquired Arjuna is so great that she is ready to be

hailed as unchaste, even though she attempts a redefinition of the term sati by

suggesting the possibility of remaining chaste even after getting married to five

men.

Later on, as Draupadi‘s marriage to Yudhishthira gets solemnized, she

finds herself in a difficult situation because she cannot technically consummate her

marriage without getting married to the other four brothers. The discussion of these

minute details related to the problem arising from the polyandrous arrangement is

never initiated in the epic. Ray presents her heroine‘s predicament in a sympathetic

light as she makes Draupadi share her deeply-felt anxieties with the reader. On

getting married to Yudhishthira, Draupadi expresses her helplessness in these

words:

Before me stood my husband [Yudhishthira], the soul of righteousness,

serene, courageous, wise, Crown Prince of Hastinapur! Today was the first
night of our union. But I was unable to surrender myself at his feet. Till my
marriage was formalised with the others, I would have to preserve my
virginity intact. In no one‘s life had such a dilemma, such a peril, such a
terribly dangerous juncture arisen and it was unlikely that it would occur in
future either. (Ray 71)

Draupadi‘s awareness of being in an exceptionally difficult situation marks the

singularity of her position in which any woman is unlikely to find herself in future.

It brings out her misery in an extremely poignant manner in Ray‘s novel, while the

question of Draupadi‘s virginity is the sole issue that both perplexes and is

explained from the male point of view in the epic. The polyandrous marriage is
 426

announced as necessary and inevitable from the perspective of the Pandavas but

little thought is spared on its ramifications in the life of Draupadi. The

problematisation of Draupadi‘s chastity is represented by Ray in her narrative from

the woman‘s point of view. Ray disengages the question of chastity from its

patriarchal frame of reference by eschewing the discussion of its theoretical aspect

and choosing to emphasize its lived reality. Draupadi is shown as unable to

consummate her first marriage because of the fear of compromising her virginity

which has to be kept intact, not for her own self but for preserving the male-

inscribed code of chastity. It also goes a long way in representing Draupadi as a

woman who has tremendous control over her own self as well as her husbands. She

is shown as responsible for preserving her chastity through the first nights of all

her successive weddings, which means she has to effectively resist her own desire

as well as the possible advances of any husband who might lack self-control.

She finds herself in yet another difficulty on getting married to Bheema

who tells her all his likes and dislikes. He seems to be extremely demanding as a

husband, and makes her ponder, ―‗How shall I divide mind from body? How shall

I simultaneously satisfy Bhim‘s excessive hunger while discharging my

responsibilities towards my other four husbands properly?‘‖ (Ray 75). Questions

such as these keep tormenting Draupadi in her relationship with each of her

husbands. Getting individually acquainted with the tastes and temperaments of five

brothers is not an easy task. After the marriage ceremony is over, Draupadi is left

rather bewildered about the life that lies ahead, with its set of unprecedented

difficulties. She says:

It was easy to get married one by one to five husbands. But how
complicated it was to live a married life successfully with them! I did not
 427

know how in the past someone had accepted seven husbands or eleven
husbands for the sake of dharma. But at that time, in all of Aryavart, except
me there was not a single woman married to more than one husband, let
alone five husbands!...At one time it was proper for me to accept the wish of
everyone. I had never imagined that I would be shouldering such a huge
responsibility in life. Then I had not thought that the desires, inclinations,
hopes and personalities of these men would be so different from one
another. Now, considering the entire matter, I felt utterly helpless. (Ray 91)

Ray‘s Draupadi tries to distinguish between the ideal and the real, between theory

and practice. The polyandrous marriage in the epic is shown to function in an ideal

manner whereas Ray explores the lived reality of the marriage by depicting the

problems plaguing Draupadi herself in her new role as the wife of five husbands.

Ray insinuates that it is quite absurd to imagine that the marriage was hassle-free

and attempts a far more convincing depiction of its real weaknesses as Draupadi

experiences them. The rhetoric of dharma in the Mahabharata is far too idealistic

to make room for the representation of such lived reality.

Pratibha Ray makes Narad and the character of Maya—the woman who

was gifted to Draupadi by Krishna at the time of her wedding—intervene in order

to make the polyandrous marriage workable. It is Maya who suggests that

Draupadi should spend one year by rotation with each of her husbands to avoid

marital conflict and Narad prescribes a punishment of twelve years of celibacy and

exile for any of the brothers who might happen to intrude upon the privacy of

Draupadi and the husband, who is cohabiting with her at that moment of time.

Draupadi is relieved to hear about this arrangement as it would permit her to

maintain a balance in her marriage. It relieves her anxiety as she finds herself in a

far more comfortable position vis-à-vis her husbands who are temperamentally so

different from one another. She says, ―I would be able to provide easily responses

to the obstinacy, love, anger, problems, sulking, indifference, petting and whims of
 428

one after another‖ (Ray 102). The epic hardly ever registers the thoughts or

responses of Draupadi about her own marriage. Her silence looms large over the

epic narrative whereas Ray makes her heroine express her moments of tension and

relief with equal élan.

Shashi Deshpande, in her short story ―And what has been decided?‖478

offers us the entire life of Draupadi in a brilliantly scripted narrative. Deshpande‘s

Draupadi is a questioning woman who seeks answers to the wrongs that have been

perpetrated against her. When she tells Arjuna that they are not speaking the

language that is befitting of the Kshatriyas in their pursuit of peace with the

Kauravas, Arjuna replies with bitterness that being a Kshatriya was the most

important thing that they had to learn in their life. Draupadi contemplates his

words and finds their truth value to be wanting when examined in the backdrop of

the incidents that have taken place in her life, especially with regard to her

marriage when she did not even know that the man whom she was garlanding was

actually a Kshatriya in the disguise of a Brahmin. The concerns of the man who

professes that the Khsatriya identity was at the core of his being is found to be in

contradiction with the experience of Draupadi who is yet to find proof of a

Kshatriya-like conduct in her husband. On being asked by Arjuna why the question

of his being a Kshatriya is so important to her, she says:

Is it important to me? But I had not known they were Kshatriyas the first
time I saw them. Dressed like Brahmins, sitting among the Brahmins, how
could I have imagined that they were not Brahmins? It was a Brahmin youth
I had garlanded and followed out of the swayamvara hall. I would have been
satisfied to be the wife of that Brahmin boy, but that was not to be my
destiny. I became the wife of five men, five princes, Kshatriyas. Can I ever

478
Shashi Deshpande, Collected Stories: Volume II. (New Delhi: Penguin, 2004), 236-245.
 429

forget this? Is this not the most important thing in my life? (Deshpande,
Collected Stories 239)

The question of her husbands‘ identity carries a different connotation for Draupadi

as her marriage to the five men who happen to be Kshatriyas changes the course of

her life forever. Arjuna can therefore never understand the reason behind

Draupadi‘s concern over the question of their Kshatriya identity. For Arjuna it is a

code that they have had to learn to abide throughout their life whereas for

Draupadi it is a fact whose revelation has transformed her life beyond expectation.

She expresses her sense of anger at having been deceived during her swayamvara

when Arjuna disguised himself in the attire of a Brahmin and when her expectation

of living a happy married life with that Brahmin youth got ruthlessly shattered at

being forced to accept a polyandrous marriage. Therefore Arjuna‘s claim about his

preoccupation with the Kshatriya code of conduct is shown to have been flouted on

one occasion which he apparently seems to have forgotten but whose brunt is

being borne by Draupadi. Hence she is surprised at the callousness of Arjuna‘s

question when he asks her about the reason behind her concern about his Kshatriya

identity. Caste-identity, instead of being essential, is performative for Draupadi,

which her husband fails to comprehend.

Draupadi‘s love for Arjuna and his betrayal of her expectations soon after

his marriage is brilliantly portrayed by Deshpande, thereby bringing out the extent

of Draupadi‘s longing for the man she had chosen as her husband. Speaking to

Krishna, she says:

He [Arjuna] keeps a distance between us, a vast plain he will not cross, as if
he is afraid that if he reaches me, he will not find what he is looking for.
And Bhima treats me like fragile, precious flower he is afraid to pluck. He
cannot see the woman in me, the woman hungry for love, for passion. And
 430

Nakul and Sahadev are only boys. But Arjuna... (Deshpande, Collected
Stories 243)

The epic makes sparing references to Draupadi‘s longing for Arjuna since doing so

would jeopardise the acceptability of the polyandrous marriage. Deshpande‘s re-

telling serves to address the problems arising out of the clash between her

spontaneous love for Arjuna and the compulsions towards her other husbands that

has been imposed upon her as a result of the forced marriage to the rest of the

brothers. She says with a sense of deep hurt, ―If any woman was deceived in a

man, I was in you, Arjuna....I had chosen you, I had garlanded you, I was your

wife—this was all that mattered‖ (Deshpande, Collected Stories 243). Her dreams

were shattered on hearing Arjuna‘s words to Yudhishthira regarding his right to

marry the younger brother‘s wife by virtue of being the eldest. Despite being a

woman with a strong bent of mind, Draupadi was unable to resist that decision.

She says:

And then I heard you say, ―Brother, you are the eldest, you marry her.‖ I
came out of the dream then. I should have walked away from you, from all
of you, but it was really too late. I knew it, foolish, headstrong girl though I
was, that there was no going back. Our destinies were linked together.
(Deshpande, Collected Stories 243)

Such then is the extent of the pain that remained hidden behind her apparently

ungrudging acceptance of the despicable marital arrangement as represented in the

epic narrative.

Deshpande‘s Draupadi remembers the words of her father and his sense of

shock on being confronted with the proposal of his daughter‘s marriage to all the

five brothers. In order to allay his fears, Yudhishthira had assured him that his

mother could never be wrong. On recalling these words, Draupadi expresses her

disgust with the very nature of words. She says:

 431

Right. Wrong. Only words. You can use them any way you want. Or it
seems to me. But while I could not accept what these words said, my father
did. I knew it then, that men and women speak different languages.
(Deshpande, Collected Stories 242)

Her bitter experience vis-à-vis her marriage has made her aware of the gendered

nature of language itself. Deshpande‘s critical approach to some of the questions

regarding the marriage of Draupadi brings to light the flaws and gaps in the epic

representation of the issue.

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni resorts to certain crucial departures in her

representation of the problems related to Draupadi‘s marriage. Draupadi is shown

as singularly vocal in her resistance to the terms and conditions set upon her at

marriage. In the Mahabharata, Draupadi emerges as an articulate heroine much

later; it is only after the disrobing episode that we encounter Draupadi as a

protesting personality. Divakaruni‘s Draupadi launches her critique of the unfair

practices of men right from the beginning of the narrative. It does not take an

exceptional insult like the disrobing to spark off the rebelliousness of her character.

The initial exhilaration of Divakaruni‘s Draupadi on hearing the news of

her swayamvara suddenly changes into anger as she is intimated about the

condition of the test. She becomes critical of her father‘s intention as she discerns

the power politics that guides his decision of conducting the bridegroom selection

ceremony. Draupadi in the Mahabharata is never shown as openly vocal and

critical about the terms and conditions of the swayamvara ceremony. Divakaruni‘s

Draupadi, however, chooses to be articulate and what comes out is a vehement

criticism of the patriarchal politics behind the marriage. Giving free reign to her

anger she says, ‗―Why even call it a swayamvar, then?‖… ―Why make a spectacle
 432

of me before all those kings? It‘s my father, not I, who gets to decide whom I‘ll

marry‖‘ (Divakaruni 56). The sense of being a mere pawn at the hands of men

strikes Draupadi with bitterness as she says, ―My mouth filled with ashes. How

foolish I‘d been, dreaming of love when I was nothing but a worm dangled at the

end of a fishing pole‖ (Divakaruni 57). Her illusions regarding her freedom in the

choice of a partner (which is the literal meaning of the term swayamvar) receives a

cruel blow as her hopes are dashed to the ground. The use of such words provides

an instance of radical use of language (which the epic heroine is capable of, but

reserves till the climactic scene of her insult) with a heightened feminist rhetoric.

As she enters into the wedding hall, everybody falls silent as though under

a spell, and Divakaruni‘s Draupadi observes that she relished that moment for it

gave her a taste of power. Unlike the usual representation of this scene where

Draupadi‘s entry into the hall is often contextualized within the disempowering

frame of the male gaze, Divakaruni offers a different reading of the gaze as a

spontaneous submission to authority coupled with a sense of awe. Rather than

portray Draupadi at the receiving end of the male gaze, Divakaruni shows her to be

the master who controls that gaze – thereby involving the question of a reversal of

power. She says:

When I stepped into the wedding hall, there was complete, immediate
silence. As though I were a sword that had severed, simultaneously, each
vocal cord. Behind my veil I smiled grimly. Savor this moment of power, I
told myself. It may be your only one. (Divakaruni 91)

Another interesting deviation from the epic narrative occurs in the case of

Draupadi‘s dismissal of Karna‘s claim for participating in the swayamvara

ceremony. Countering the caste bias of the epic narrative, Divakaruni makes her

Draupadi object to Karna‘s claim not on the ground of his being low-born –
 433

although that is what Divakaruni‘s Draupadi says in the assembly. But a later

clarification about the actual reason behind her protest makes the readers aware of

a different motive on her part. Fearing a duel between her brother

Dhrishtadhyumna and Karna on account of the dispute at hand, she chooses to

speak those harsh words in order to bar Karna from the list and thus saves the life

of her brother. She says:

Later, some would commend me for being brave enough to put the upstart
son of a chariot driver in his place. Others would declare me arrogant.
Caste-obsessed. They‘d say I deserved every punishment I received. Still
others would admire me for being true to dharma, whatever that means. But
I did it only because I couldn‘t bear to see my brother die. (Divakaruni 96)

Interestingly, it is this moment that sows the seeds of Draupadi‘s long and

tortuous love-hate relationship with Karna in the novel. At various points in the

narrative she is shown as repenting her previous act of dismissing his claim. When

Yudhishthira attempts to elicit Drupad‘s consent to the proposal of the Pandavas‘

polyandrous marriage with Draupadi, Drupad is shocked at the absurdity of the

idea and exclaims that death would have been a better alternative for his daughter.

Listening to their deliberations on this issue, Draupadi laments the sheer

indifference with which they seem to discuss such a critical matter concerning her

life. She also dismisses the thought of death as an option. Draupadi says:

I didn‘t fear the fate they imagined for me. I had no intention of committing
honourable self-immolation. (I had other plans for my life.) But I was
distressed by the coldness with which my father and my potential husband
discussed my options, thinking only of how these acts would benefit—or
harm—them. (Divakaruni 118)

Hearing Vyasa‘a verdict regarding her fate and his boon of renewed virginity she

feels doubly incensed. Draupadi expresses her indignation in these words:

Though Dhai Ma tried to console me by saying that finally I had the

freedom men had had for centuries, my situation was very different from
that of a man with several wives. Unlike him, I had no choice as to whom I
slept with, and when. Like a communal drinking cup, I would be passed
from hand to hand whether I wanted it or not. (Divakaruni 120)
 434

Draupadi questions the so called benefit of the boon that others try to rationalise

and justify for her. She is certain that the boon of virginity does no good to her;

neither does it bestow any agency upon her, nor does it offer her any freedom of

choice. Discerning the actual motive behind it she says, ―Nor was I particularly

delighted by the virginity boon, which seemed designed more for my husbands‘

benefit than mine‖ (Divakaruni 120). Divakaruni‘s Draupadi articulates what

remains hidden in the epic. The question of her chastity is very obviously rendered

problematic on account of the polyandrous marriage and, fearing the repercussion

that it is likely to have on the moral reputation of the Pandavas, Vyasa devices this

unique ruse. Draupadi gives voice to her feelings without the slightest regard for

the ―harm‖ that it might cause to the otherwise impeccable moral status of her

husbands-to-be. She insists on underlining how patriarchy‘s headache about the

chastity of women is taken to its absurd extreme when a wife‘s regaining of

virginity acts as a psychological assurance to her successive husbands that they are

not violating any moral law.

Draupadi then goes on to narrate her experience of the tedious marriage

ceremony to the rest of the four brothers. She feels that Arjuna is angry with her as

he will no longer have an exclusive claim upon her. Draupadi resents his behaviour

as she feels that it was unfair on his part to blame her for the proceedings which

she was not responsible for. She decides to make her feelings known to him and,

disregarding the stereotypical modesty expected of a newly-wed wife, she lifts her

veil and stares at him to make her displeasure visible. Draupadi comments:

I lifted my veil and stared back, uncaring of what his brothers might think of
my indecorous behaviour. I had to send Arjuna a message and knew this
might be my last chance in a long time....I was desperate to make him
 435

realize that this situation wasn‘t more to my liking than his. (Divakaruni
121)

Another instance of Draupadi‘s disregard of the so called propriety of feminine

conduct occurs when she frankly refers to the sexual habits of her husband

Yudhishthira on the first night of their marriage. This is particularly interesting as

there is no direct mention of the sexual habits of the Pandavas in the epic.

Draupadi says:

In bed, to my amused surprise, he [Yudhishthira] was shy and easily

alarmed. Slowly I realized that he had in his head a compendium of ideas
(had Kunti put them there?) about what constituted ladylike sexual
behaviour, and—this was a longer list—what didn‘t. I could see that I‘d
have to dedicate significant energy to re-educating him. (Divakaruni 122)

Draupadi‘s resolution of ―re-educating‖ Yudhishthira carries implicit suggestions

about imparting him training regarding matters of sexual practice and female

sexuality in particular. Divakaruni makes her Draupadi unabashed in her

expression of desire, which shows that the treatment of the question of marriage in

Divakaruni‘s novel succeeds in representing the character of Draupadi in a more

strongly feminist light.

INTELLECTUAL ATTAINMENTS

The present section of this chapter attempts to examine the question of

Draupadi‘s difference with regard to her intellectual attainments. She is

represented in the epic as an extremely erudite, intelligent and perspicacious

woman. At various points in the narrative we get to see instances of her wisdom,

her verbal skills and her very informed interrogation of dharma—that formidable

and essentially male body of knowledge which often debars and discourages

female participation and involvement. Scholars and historians have attempted to

provide a historical account of the Indian tradition of women‘s learning, the

 436

earliest among them being A. S. Altekar who belonged to the nationalist school of

historians. In his view, the epic age is estimated to span from approximately 1000

B.C to 600 B.C. It is this period and its social values that are depicted in the

Mahabharata.

As Altekar and others have shown, examples of wise and learned women

abound in the ancient Indian scriptures that pre-date the epics. There is a verse in

the Brhadaranyaka Upanishad where advice is given to the couples regarding the

procedure to beget a learned daughter: ―If someone wishes: ‗May a learned

daughter be born to me! May she live a full span!‘, the couple should have rice-

and-sesame cooked and eat it with ghee: and they will be able to have one.‖479 It is

therefore evident that the desire to beget a learned daughter might have been quite

prevalent during this time. We also find references to women scholars who are said

to have contributed to the composition of the hymns of the Rigveda. Altekar

mentions the contribution of other women composers of the Rigveda such as

Lopamudra, Visvavara, Sikata Nivavari and Ghosha.480 He also discusses that class

of women philosophers and scholars who were known as Brahmavadinis. These

were women who used to devote themselves to the study of the Vedas and other

branches of study such as theology which were often quite abstruse. The examples

of Maitreyi and Gargi are quite well-known, and they are represented as

exemplifying the highest standards of wisdom and scholarly knowledge. The

Vedic age was therefore quite advanced as far as the question of women‘s

479
The Upanisads, Brhadaranyaka Upanisad, VI.4:17, 121. [The Upanisads. Trans. Valerie J.
Roebuck. (New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2000)]. The given quotation refers to Book VI, section 4,
verse 17 of Brhadaranyaka Upanisad on page number 121 of The Upanisads translated by Valerie
J. Roebuck.
480
A. S. Altekar, The Position of Women in Hindu Civilization: From Prehistoric Times to the
Present Day. 2nd ed. 1959. (Delhi: Motilal Banarasidass, 2005), 10.
 437

education was concerned. According to Altekar, the educational status and

standards of women began to deteriorate after 300 B.C due to the lowering of the

age of marriage for girls. The Aryan custom of the Upanayana which required the

education of women in Vedic studies also suffered a setback and got eventually

abolished. Altekar says in this context:

Even the initiation ritual (Upanayana samskara), so necessary for endowing

woman with the proper Aryan status, was first reduced to a mere formality
and then dropped out altogether. This put an end to their Vedic education.
They became unable to recite even the hymns of daily prayer. It is no
wonder that they should have lost the status of the regenerate class (devijas);
like the Sudras they were in course of time naturally regarded as unfit for
reciting or even hearing Vedic prayers. By about the 8th or 9th century A.D.
the marriageable age of girls was further lowered to 9 or 10; this gave
practically a death-blow to any education worth the name. No doubt two or
three years were still available, when some primary education could have
been imparted, but both the girls and their guardians used to devote their
attention during this period more to the problem of marriage than to that of
education.481

Altekar‘s contention regarding the comparatively better position of women

during the Vedic ages and its decline in subsequent times has, however, been

contested by later scholars. In her introduction to the book Women in Early Indian

Societies482 Kumkum Roy attacks Altekar for having identified the family as the

sphere which is relevant to women thus excluding other areas and institutions

within which women might have played an important role. Roy is right in pointing

out the inadequacy of Altekar‘s conclusions based on his sole emphasis on the

status of women within the family to the exclusion of other domains. Roy suggests

that Altekar neither takes into consideration the number of women seers nor the

nature of contributions attributed to them. Moreover, his understanding of

education makes it somewhat monolithic and does not admit of any historical

variations or qualifications. Roy finds Altekar‘s equation of high status with the

481
A. S. Altekar, The Position of Women 16-17.
482
Kumkum Roy, Introduction. Women in Early Indian Societies. Ed. Kumkum Roy. (New Delhi:
Manohar, 2011), 1-45.
 438

superior position enjoyed by Aryan women and the corrupting influence of the low

caste sudra women on the former particularly problematic. Altekar based his

arguments on Brahmanical texts which have a very distinct gender bias. Since

these texts have been composed by upper class men, women do not find a voice in

them and hence any attempt to use these texts for an understanding of gender

relations is rendered problematic. Roy finds Altekar‘s reconstruction of the gender

relations to be lacking as he remains unmindful of the inherent bias of his source

texts.

Uma Chakravarti too points out the inadequacies of the theories of Altekar

and other scholars who belong to the nationalist school of history. In order to

reverse the growing influence of Western education and values, they engaged in an

attempt to reconstruct a glorious image of India‘s past. They tried to show that

women enjoyed a high position in the ancient times. Nationalist historians

attributed the decline in the status of women in later ages to the advent of the

invaders, particularly the Muslims. However, their account seems to be far from

true as practices like purdah, sati and female infanticide seem to have been

approved by Hindu lawgivers in order to safeguard women from what they felt was

the corrupting influence of foreigners. Chakravarti argues that ―the structure of

institutions that ensured the subordination of women was complete in all essentials

long before the Muslims as a religious community had come into being.‖483 The

colonial encounter provided the perfect context for the emergence of nationalist

historiography. Altekar‘s study on the position of women in ancient India, despite

483
Uma Chakravarti, ―Beyond the Altekarian Paradigm: Towards a New Understanding of Gender
Relations in Early Indian History.‖ Women in Early Indian Societies. Ed. Kumkum Roy. (New
Delhi: Manohar, 2011), 75.
 439

being wide-ranging, suffers from the limitations that attend upon the nationalist

understanding of the women‘s question. He examined the woman‘s position vis-à-

vis the family and emphasized her contribution to the betterment of the family. The

ability of women to produce sons led to their importance within the family and the

nation.

Although there was no formal system of education for girls, they got their

education at home. [Link] Bhawalkar in her study of the women in the

Mahabharata says that they received their education through their mothers in

matters of household duties, their fathers, their mothers-in-law and their husbands

after marriage.484 She also says that women often enriched themselves by listening

to the disquisitions of the learned Brahmins, the philosophers and the sages who

visited the royal households as guests.485 Speaking in the context of Draupadi‘s

education, Bhawalkar makes the following observation:

Daughters were free from restrictions; Draupadi, for instance, would sit on
her father‘s knees as a child and listen intently to his discussions with
learned guests. These guests provided her with a rich corpus of knowledge,
not only about the social sciences and religious codes, but also about the
lives of historical personalities, life and customs in distant countries etc. A
learned Brahmana taught the science of politics to Draupadi‘s brother.
Draupadi too sat with her brother and learnt the Nitishastra....After her
marriage, Draupadi looked after thousands of guests of Yudhishthira, and
even in their exile, the Pandavas had a number of Brahmanas living with
them, and sages as visitors. Draupadi used to be present during their
discussions.486

It thus becomes quite evident that despite lacking formal means of education,

women did have access to knowledge through various other means such as

listening and memorizing as pointed out by Bhawalkar.

484
Vanamala Bhawalkar, Woman in the Mahābhārata. (Delhi: Sharada Publishing House, 1999),
15
485
Bhawalkar 16.
486
Ibid.
 440

Coming to the Mahabharata, there is an extended conversation in the Vana

Parva between Draupadi and Yudhishthira where she tries to convince him about

the necessity of taking revenge upon the Kauravas by advancing various

philosophical arguments. It is in this context that she tells Yudhishthira about the

way in which she had received her education:

My father formerly kept a learned Brahmana with him. O bull of the

Bharata race, he said all this unto my father. Indeed, these instructions as to
duty, uttered by Vrihaspati himself, were first taught to my brothers. It was
from them that I heard these afterwards while in my father‘s house. And, O
Yudhishthira, while at intervals of business, I went out (of the inner
apartments) and sat on the lap of my father, that learned Brahmana used to
recite unto me these truths, sweetly consoling me therewith!487

Being well-versed in different branches of knowledge, Draupadi is often referred

to and addressed as ―O thou possessed of great wisdom‖488, as ―highly intelligent

lady‖489 and a ―Brahmavadini‖490 — all of which mean an exceptionally intelligent

woman.

The epic offers various instances of Draupadi‘s display of her exceptional

intelligence and wisdom. She emerges as an excellent orator at various critical

points in the narrative. One of the very first instances of her excellence as a

speaker occurs in the assembly-hall where she is forcibly dragged and where she

raises important legal and philosophical questions that attest to her exceptional

intelligence and verbal skills. Kevin Mc Grath is right when he says that the

women in the Mahabharata are the source of law because it is through their

speeches that the code of dharma gets clarified. He says:

Women however, in their speech within the epic, are often a source of law
and social convention: they are the figures who give judgemental utterance

487
Mbh,Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section XXXII, Vol 2: 70.
488
Mbh, Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section XXIX, Vol 2: 59.
489
Mbh, Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section CCLXIX, Vol 3: 528.
490
Mbh, Ganguli, Virata Parva, Section I, Vol 4: 1.
 441

to dharma, a term that is often translated as ‗rule‘ or ‗decorum‘. It is the

women who are the speakers of what should be done by the ksatriyas. They
are the knowers of dharma—that which is valued as appropriate—and in
speech proclaim what karma is right at certain moments in the narrative.
They are the vocal interpreters of all that is worthwhile.491

In this scene one gets to see how Draupadi debates upon various ethical and legal

questions and, in the words of Mc Grath, is able to ―transform the situation of

ordered violence into one of discussion.‖492 Alf Hiltebeitel in his essay on the

feminist implications of Draupadi‘s question has also pointed out the multifarious

field of concerns which have been opened up as a result of her question. He says:

As a philosophical question, it is compounded by legal issues of property,

ownership, and slavery in the hierarchical context of patriarchal marriage,
and symbolized around the figure of the ultimate lord, master and owner,
the king, in relation to the subjecthood and objecthood of the queen, his
wife.493

It is her intelligent questioning that delays her ordeal and forces the intervention of

the king.

Another display of Draupadi‘s intelligence occurs in the Vana Parva when

she admonishes Yudhishthira for his lack of resolution to take revenge against the

Kauravas. In a long discourse she criticizes her husband for failing to deliver the

duties befitting a Kshatriya and goes on to advocate the necessity of action in the

larger context of universal life. She relates the tale of the asura Prahlada and his

grandson Vali in order to demonstrate the difference between might and

forgiveness. The conversation between Prahlada and Vali is impersonated by

Draupadi as she concludes in their respective voices that one should make a

491
Mc Grath 13.
492
Mc Grath 166.
493
Alf Hiltebeital, ―Draupadi‘s Question.‖ Is the Goddess a Feminist: The Politics of South Asian
Goddesses. Eds. Alf Hiltebeitel and Kathleen [Link]. (New Delhi: Oxford University Press,
2002), 116.
 442

balanced use of both, keeping in mind the time and occasion.494 Yudhishthira

replies to her by addressing her as ―O thou possessed of great wisdom‖ 495 and says

that anger is the root of adversity whereas forgiveness is a great virtue. Draupadi

offers her reactions to his thoughts by initially praising his virtuous conduct and

later on expressing her disapproval of the way in which man is nothing more than a

mere puppet in the hands of the Creator. In this piece of conversation Draupadi

speaks with subtle philosophical insight. Kevin Mc Grath says in this context:

This is not just angry talk but sophisticated discussion, on a level equal with
informed panditas, although it lacks a reciprocal tension. She speaks like
arsi ‗a poet-seer‘, such is her intellectual range and verbal measurement.496

Yudhishthira advises her not be critical or doubtful of the intentions of the Creator.

Draupadi replies by saying that there are two types of person in the world—one

who believes in destiny and the other in action. She even quotes from Manu to

strengthen her claim regarding the primacy of action over forgiveness. 497 In this

long piece of discussion we get a glimpse into the mind of Draupadi which is

enriched with a philosophical approach towards life and its various aspects. She

has a mind that is capable of fine reasoning and subtle ratiocination.

A further instance of the display of Draupadi‘s intelligent questioning of

the conduct of men occurs in the court of Virata where she is molested and

494
Mbh, Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section XXVIII, Vol 2: 55-57.
495
Mbh, Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section XXIX, Vol 2: 59.
496
Mc Grath 172.
497
It is seen, possessions are obtained from chance, as also from destiny. Something being from
destiny and something from chance, something is obtained by exertion. In the acquisition of his
objects, there is no fourth cause in the case of man. Thus say those that are acquainted with truth
and skilled in knowledge. If, however, God himself were not the giver of good and bad fruits, then
amongst creatures there would not be any that was miserable. If the effect of former acts be a myth,
then all purposes for which man would work should be successful. They, therefore, that regard the
three alone (mentioned above) as the doors of all success and failure in the world, (without
regarding the acts of former life), are dull and inert like the body itself. For all this, however, a
person should act. This is the conclusion of Manu himself. (Mbh, Ganguli, Vana Parva, Section
XXXII, Vol 2: 69)
 443

humiliated in front of the king by Keechaka. Condemning the king for his inability

to censure her assaulter, she mounts a severe verbal attack on him:

What can I (a weak woman) do when Virata, deficient in virtue, coolly

suffereth my innocent self to be thus wronged by a wretch? Thou dost not,
O King, act like a king towards this Kichaka. Thy behaviour is like that of a
robber, and doth not shine in a court. That I should thus be insulted in thy
very presence, O Matsya, is highly improper. Oh, let all the courtiers here
look at this violence of Kichaka. Kichaka is ignorant of duty and morality,
and Matsya also is equally so. These courtiers also that wait upon such a
king are destitute of virtue.498

Draupadi is great in her skill of public persuasion as has been rightly pointed out

by Kevin Mc Grath:

Once again it is the feminine voice that turns events—in a public setting—
back to a system of order, once dharma has been destabilized. In this case
Draupadi speaks in the assembly and calls for a decision on the part of those
men present. No other woman in the poem accomplishes this kind of public
suasion, not even Gandhari, and it is notable that the king is actually swayed
by the opinion of his courtiers and assembled warriors.499

Mc Grath‘s observation is accentuated by the re-tellings which offer various other

instances of Draupadi‘s exceptional intelligence apart from the ones discussed

above.

Irawati Karve in her work Yuganta: The End of an Epoch has taken a rather

unconventional stand on the question of Draupadi‘s intelligence which is

customarily admired. She points out the fact that it was Draupadi who was

responsible for saving the Pandavas from utter ruin by asking for the freedom of

her husbands in the boon granted by Dhritarashtra. She displays her intelligence by

refusing the third boon for she says that she needs nothing else, for by saving and

freeing her husbands, she will be able to get everything. The rescue of the

498
Mbh, Ganguli, Virata Parva, Section XVI, Vol 4: 29.
499
Mc Grath 175.
 444

Pandavas was an extremely smart move made by Draupadi both from the personal

and the political point of view.

Karve however refuses to appreciate Draupadi‘s raising of the legal

question regarding Yudhishthira‘s right to pawn her. Karve examines the question

in the light of the then social laws and customs governing the right of a master

over a slave and that of a slave over his wife. She contends that Draupadi‘s

question was ―foolish‖ and ―terrible‖ (Karve 90), for no matter what the answer

was, it entailed grave consequences for her; since on the one hand if it was settled

that Yudhishthira‘s right over her did not cease even after he had lost himself then

it would imply that he had the right to stake her and she in turn would become a

slave; on the other hand, if it was confirmed that Yudhishthira no longer had any

right over her, it would mean that her relationship with her husbands was

terminated and she would be widowed which in turn would have been equally

pitiable (Karve 90). Karve strongly disapproves of Draupadi‘s stand:

Draupadi was standing there arguing about legal technicalities like a lady
pundit when what was happening to her was so hideous that she should only
have cried out for decency and pity in the name of the Kshatriya code. Had
she done so perhaps things would not have gone so far. Allowing their own
daughter-in-law to be dragged before a full assembly, dishonouring a bride
of their own clan in the assembly of the men, was so against all human,
unwritten law, that quibbling about legal distinctions at that point was the
height of pretension. (Karve 90)

In other words, what Karve tries to point out is that a mere appeal to the

human instincts of the assembled Kshatriya men would have been a more effective

means of rescuing herself from the ultimate degradation rather than indulging in

what she believes to be a show of intelligence. Later on Karve goes on to say that

her question had amounted to an insult to Yudhishthira since it had put him in a

dilemma which he could not forget for the rest of his life. Even during their stay in
 445

the forest Draupadi had tried to indulge in intellectual debates with him in which

he always used to silence her. Karve does not appreciate the fact that being a

woman she had the ―audacity‖ to contend with an assembly full of men. Karve‘s

views appear to be highly reactionary in contrast to the feminist interpretations that

have been made of Draupadi‘s question as an extremely bold instance of woman‘s

participation as a speaking subject in the symbolic order through her appropriation

of language. But one has to keep in mind the fact that Karve‘s reading is made in

conformity with the social reality of the epic times. Having said so, it is still quite

difficult to accept Karve‘s denunciation of Draupadi‘s questioning as ―inexcusable

arrogance‖ (Karve 91) for it is recognized even in the epic that Draupadi was not

only erudite but wise, and had the requisite expertise to contend and debate on

matters of legality.

Mahasweta Devi‘s protagonist in the short story ―Draupadi‖ is not literate

or educated in bookish knowledge but is shown to be a singularly intelligent

woman in her courage to take on the authorities and exact a fitting revenge for her

insult and rape – all by a subversive use of language and a woman‘s body. Dopdi is

involved in the Naxalite movement and she is hiding from the police who are on

the lookout for her. She has been successful in dodging them for quite sometime

and is shrewd enough to mislead them from the hideout of her comrades in the

forest. She deliberately refrains from entering into the forest when she suspects

someone following her and is eventually apprehended by the armed forces. After

an hour of questioning, the Senanayak orders his men to ―‗Make her‘‖ which is

actually a euphemism for rape. Having been subjected to an entire night of endless
 446

torture and gangrape, Dopdi, in a reversal of the epic narrative, confronts the

perpetrator of the crime not with a question but with her naked body.

The educated intellectual Senanayak is reduced to the figure of a mute

spectator when confronted by the uneducated, naked and desperate tribal woman

who resorts to the most unconventional means of seeking revenge that lies outside

the purview of any written or legal code. Her intelligence operates at the level of

the semiotic whereby she throws the symbolic and the traditional association of

female nudity with feminine shame out of gear and establishes a new code of

signification whereby it is the male onlookers who feel ashamed on looking at her

naked body. Dopdi ushers in a shift in the symbolic register of meaning which

goes far beyond anything that the epic Draupadi had done. The tribal woman‘s

intelligence is not derived from learned books; it is her experience that teaches her

to use her body in a manner that shocks the Senanayak, a member of the elite

intelligentsia.

Saoli Mitra too in her representation of Draupadi portrays her as a woman

who is well aware of the unjust treatment that has been meted out to her and who

questions that code of values which renders her status as ―nathabati anathbat‖ i.e.

one who has five lords yet none a protector, which also happens to be the title of

Mitra‘s work. At the very outset we are told that the girl who performs the role of

the kathak (the narrator) is from a rural background, but she is not uneducated. She

might not be literate but that does not make her less aware of the reality. She is

said to know the names of the pundits i.e. the learned men and their interpretations.

Mitra sums up thus: ―The Narrator is thus not ignorant. Awareness, intelligent,
 447

empathy; her view of the world has been moulded by a blend of the three‖ (Mitra,

Five Lords 3). The narrator is also the one who is going to impersonate the

character of Draupadi and others during the performance and hence it goes without

saying that her nature and her perception are going to colour the way in which she

will play the role of Draupadi. Her narratorial interventions by way of comments,

questions, songs, poetry and critical remarks undercut the established reading of

the epic, particularly in its portrayal of the character of Draupadi.

The intelligence of the kathak penetrates the patriarchal point of view that

pervades the world of the epic and subverts it to allow a new interpretation of the

text to emerge that is conveyed from the woman‘s point of view. This replacement

of the male point of view does not lead to an unequal and distorted representation

of reality, but to a more balanced and realistic portrayal of the societal attitudes

that governed the lives of both men and women in those times. She points out the

complex relations of inequality that prevailed between the two most important and

powerful sections of society in the epic age i.e. between the Brahmins and the

Kshatriyas (Mitra, Five Lords 17). The kathak also questions the way in which

Yudhishthira gives his consent to the gambling match despite it being prohibited in

the shastras (i.e. the learned treatises) and questions man‘s tendency to ignore

good advice. It is the narrator‘s acumen and sharpness of mind that enable her to

draw relevant conclusions about the society of the epic age and relate them to the

present times in which the performance is being enacted. Addressing the audience

she says:

Shall I say something, Dear Sirs? Nobody ever listens to good advice, to
moral lessons. This was as true then as it is now. Yes, that really is so. Else,
why this wanton gambling today? And along with it, all the attendant vices
are creeping into society. (Mitra, Five Lords 29)
 448

A little later, the kathak admiringly comments on the exceptional intelligence

exhibited by Draupadi when she raises an important point of law regarding the

question of Yudhishthira‘s right to pawn her. Praising her, the kathak says, ―What

extraordinary intelligence, Good Sirs! What we‘d call sagacity. No one in that

sabha had an answer to this point of law‖ (Mitra, Five Lords 34). Despite having

said so, however, the kathak goes on to assert later that what was needed in such a

situation to save Draupadi was either anger or arms instead of intelligence (Mitra,

Five Lords 37). Mitra seems to be influenced by Irawati Karve‘s interpretation of

the situation when she makes the kathak say these words, for Karve dismisses

Draupadi‘s argumentative questioning in the midst of the assembly as foolish

(Karve 90). It will however be unjust to dismiss Draupadi‘s enquiry on a legal

point as foolish since it is this question which brings the assembly to a standstill

and puts everybody in a moral dilemma. Her question lands them in a crisis of

conscience that does not allow a convenient execution of the evil plans of the

Kauravas and aggravates the sense of outrage and injustice that has been caused by

the unprecedented incident of disrobing. Mitra therefore, despite taking a stand

similar to that of Karve with regard to the inefficacy of Draupadi‘s intelligence in

the assembly-hall, is appreciative of the way in which Draupadi is nevertheless

able to expose the injustice that had been perpetrated upon her, as enacted through

the persona of the kathak.

Pratibha Ray also incorporates various instances of the display of

Draupadi‘s intelligence in her novel Yajnaseni. Ray portrays Draupadi as adept in

poetry. She is shown as a poet who takes great delight in composing devotional

verses particularly in adoration of lord Krishna. The cult of bhakti seems to be

 449

infused in Ray‘s re-telling, where the relationship between Draupadi and Krishna

borders on the lines similar to that existing between the devotee and the God

within the bhakti tradition.500 In conversation with her friend Nitambini Draupadi

speaks of the difficulty of expressing the form of Krishna through poetry:

There is poetry in every human being. Some pour it out in writing, others do
not. I wrote down whatever came to mind in the form of poetry. Father had
made arrangements for my education. Both my tutor and my father said that
I was scholarly, knowledge-hungry. Quickly I mastered many branches of
knowledge. I became an expert in mathematics, music, painting, cookery,
flower-arrangement, hospitality and other matters. But writing poetry was
an obsession which I went on learning by myself. Father did not know
anything about this. (Ray 14)

Ray‘s Draupadi is represented as cultivating the art of poetry beyond the

prescribed and conventional limits of the education and training that have been

imparted to her. Besides being well-versed in the various disciplines of learning,

she harbours a talent for writing poetry in which she is self-taught. The learned and

sagacious Draupadi of the epic is given a fresh dimension in Ray‘s novel where

she is shown as having a creative impulse that manifests itself in the form of

poetry. Draupadi also mentions that her thirst for knowledge and for poetry in

particular was so immense that she would ask incisive questions to the scholars

and the poets who were often invited by her father to hold serious discussions. She

says:

Quite often discussions on various scriptures took place at our place. Poetry
also had its turn. Many scholars, poets, wise men used to be invited. These
discussions were organized for my sake. Father knew that my interest lay
more in these rather than in singing and dancing. At these discussions, my

500
In her essay titled ―Mirabai and the Spiritual Economy of Bhakti‖ Kumkum Sangari points out
the fact that through her choice of asceticism and the cult of bhakti, Mirabai is able to defy the
patriarchal and the feudal codes governing marriage and widowhood, thereby exersing her agency
and subjectivity through her rejection of earthly marriage, domesticity and the bonds of kinship.
Sangari‘s work shows that in ancient and medieval India the practice of composing devotional
poetry offered women a scope of exercising their subjectivity [Kumkum Sangari, ―Mirabai and the
Spiritual Economy of Bhakti.‖ Economic and Political Weekly, Part 1 (7 July 1990), 1464-1475;
Kumkum Sangari, ―Mirabai and the Spiritual Economy of Bhakti.‖ Economic and Political Weekly,
Part 2 (14 July 1990), 1537+.]
 450

queries were resolved. Attempts were made to quench my thirst for

knowledge. But this thirst was limitless. (Ray 14)

Arjuna expresses his admiration for Draupadi‘s intelligence when he asks her

in his disguise about what she will do if Arjuna approaches her some day.

Draupadi replies that since he is the man who has won her in the swayamvara, he

is already Arjuna in her eyes; in case Arjuna truly comes she would welcome him

and ask him to befriend her husband so that both the ―Arjunas‖ become friends. On

hearing her reason thus, Arjuna says:

I had heard that the princess is adept in the scriptures. Then I believed that
for women to know the scriptures meant learning them by rote like parrots.
But now it appears that you have not memorised the scriptures but
internalised them. You are not only knowledgeable but full of wisdom too. I
admit defeat before you. (Ray 52)

Through the words of Arjuna, Ray is calling attention to the popular perception

that men tend to have about the inferiority of women‘s learning. Their knowledge

is often discounted as second grade on account of their tendency to memorize

rather than to internalize precepts. It should however not be forgotten that both

sruti (i.e hearing) and smriti (i.e. memorizing) were traditional sources of learning

in the process of inheriting the available body of knowledge and literature before

the arrival of written language. Arjuna, however, praises Draupadi for being not

just a passive learner but an active interpreter of knowledge. On another occasion

too he compliments her intellect by saying, ―‗Krishnaa you are no mere beautiful

princess. You are distinguished in learning and knowledge. You are a poet‘‖ (Ray

82).

Ray‘s Bheema, however, seems to harbour a different opinion as far as the

question of women‘s education is concerned and his views are stereotypical of the
 451

patriarchal mindset towards women. Annoyed at Draupadi‘s reticent nature he

says:

Oho! Why are you dumb like a clay doll? I do not understand all this. The
learned woman is said to be sparing of speech. But there is no need for my
wife to be learned. What is the use of women being learned? Let them be
lovely—enough! Let them be good cooks, provide service, laugh with me,
talk to me, sing to me, do whatever I command instantly. (Ray 76)

Bheema says that he has no use of a learned wife. For him what matters more is his

wife‘s ability to cater to the needs of her husband by being skilful in what is

acknowledged as women‘s work such as cooking, singing, etc. Beauty is another

quality that he thinks should be mandatory in a wife rather than intellect, and it is a

very common patriarchal cliché that beauty and intelligence do not go hand in

hand. Intelligent women are said to be lacking in physical attraction as the

cultivation of the mental faculty is considered to destroy or diminish women‘s

beauty. Ray presents Draupadi as the obvious negation of this idea as she

combines both in equal measure. Another person to voice a similar opinion in the

novel is Shakuni. When Draupadi appeals to the elders to intervene as

Duhshashana is dragging her by the hair in the assembly-hall, Shakuni says to

Karna:

The greatest offence a woman commits is to try to be learned. It is because

she became wise and scholarly that her condition is thus! If she had
grovelled at our feet and begged, perhaps she might have escaped such a
gross insult. Just as knowledge and power enhance a man‘s attraction,
similarly ignorance and helplessness increase the charm of a woman. (Ray
238)

Draupadi is thus denounced and stigmatized for being learned and argumentative.

The patriarchal disapproval of women‘s learning is evident in the crude remarks of

Shakuni.
 452

Ray offers another instance of Draupadi‘s love for learning when she

makes Draupadi talk about her library as one of the gifts given by her father at the

time of her wedding (Ray 89). Draupadi can also be seen as well-versed in the

scriptures, for she quotes from them after her abduction by Jayadratha when she

points out the need to punish him. Angered by Yudhishthira‘s opinion that

Jayadratha should be forgiven since he is the husband of their sister Duhshala,

Draupadi says:

You are perhaps even more forgiving than the best of all men of honour,
Ram. For the crime of abducting Sita, Ram killed a wise man like Ravan.
But because he is your brother-in-law, you will not punish him? Your wife
being insulted does not pain you or excite you! The scriptures say that if the
abductor of a woman or usurper of a kingdom should seek sanctuary, it will
be unjust to let him live. He is the chief enemy of society. (Ray 321)

It is the knowledge of the scriptures that allows her to argue her case in a manner

that is convincing and tenable. Draupadi takes refuge in that very body of

knowledge that has been formulated and interpreted by men. More often than not,

scriptural statements assume the status of inviolable prescriptions that cannot be

transgressed at any cost. Being well-aware of the sacrosanct status of the

scriptures, Draupadi resorts to an intelligent appropriation of them to give

―patriarchal‖ validity to her demands. She knows that arguing her case merely on

personal and emotional grounds will not carry any authority.

Ray‘s Draupadi also displays her intelligence at various points in the

narrative through her critical questioning of dharma which she feels has been

lopsidedly formulated and interpreted in order to safeguard the interests of men.

For example, she feels that the marital rules for men are much more liberal and

less exacting compared to those which are binding on women. Speaking in the

context of her own predicament she says:

 453

But now! I was about to begin conjugal life in right earnest. Now I was
feeling that calling man and woman equal for the sake of argument did not
settle the issue completely. Like her body, a woman‘s mind, too, is different
from that of a man. Therefore, from age to age society has made different
rules for it. If a man takes several wives, then the wives keep trying to win
his heart. He may, according to his desire, choose his favourite and be
attracted more to her. But what if a woman takes many husbands? Then,
taking note of the likes and dislikes of all the husbands, she has to win the
hearts of all. Otherwise, life becomes difficult. (Ray 98)

Draupadi thus points out the disparity that exists in the rules applying to men and

women. Such a comparative analysis of the differential situations of men and

women in marriage is not adumbrated by Draupadi in the epic. Draupadi‘s capacity

for remonstration against the gender bias of the scriptures and patriarchal social

practices, were she a feminist, is very meticulously represented in Ray‘s narrative.

Draupadi‘s intelligent questioning of the status-quo makes her voice extremely

formidable. Not only is she represented as being conscious of the injustice

pertaining to her own situation but she is also shown as being worried about the

welfare of her subjects, in her capacity and identity as the queen of Indraprastha.

The epic never portrays this dimension of her personality. Despite holding a public

designation of significant status and repute, Draupadi‘s identity in the epic remains

confined within the folds of her domestic and conjugal duties. Ray‘s Draupadi

says:

My domestic life was replete with happiness, peace and possessions. I did
not want anything more. The Pandavs stood by their own right. Krishna was
their helper. Now to walk on the path of dharma and become one with the
subjects in their joys and sorrows was my wish. Subhadra would look after
the household. I would keep track of the world outside. The welfare of the
suffering subjects had to be seen to. Food, clothing, housing, education—all
these are the birthrights of man. If every citizen of Indraprasth did not have
access to the minimum needs then Yudhishtir‘s being called emperor was
meaningless, my name Yajnaseni was of no value. (Ray 229)

In Ray‘s novel Draupadi‘s intelligence makes her a competent administrator who

is capable of handling the public affairs of the kingdom with great efficiency. She

also plays an active role in accomplishing the reconciliation of the Kirats with the
 454

Aryans, thereby establishing a strong political alliance between the two races. The

Kirats were estranged on account of the injustice meted out to one of them,

Ekalavya, from whom Drona had exacted his right thumb as the fee of the

preceptor. By saving the life of one of the Kirats named Kirmir from the furious

rage of Bheema who was about to kill him, Draupadi brings an end to the age-old

animosity between the two races.

Ray makes it clear that Draupadi also proved to be an exceptional manager

of the household affairs as is evident in her conversation with Satyabhama, where

she speaks about the way in which she is able to win the hearts of her husbands.

Explaining her expertise in these matters, she says:

But as for my relationship with my five husbands, not even a trace of

sulking or reproach reached Satyabhama, let alone argument, though I used
to participate in all matters concerning the family. I put forward my own
opinions and where necessary demolished those of my husbands. I even
protested against Yudhishtir‘s statements and explained Bhim‘s arguments
to him....On the other hand, in every matter my husbands would insist on
my views and would not take any important decision without me. (Ray 313)

Such is the nature of Draupadi‘s intelligence that even her husbands count on it

and consider it indispensable. Ray thus shows her Draupadi as exercising her

intelligence both in the private domain of her home and in the larger political

sphere.

Shashi Deshpande in her short story ―And what has been decided?‖ retells

the epic story with an emphasis on the dashed hopes of the heroine who comes to

realize that the decision to go to war was not actually hers but had been resolved

long ago although she had been deceived into a false sense of agency. The story

charts the journey of Draupadi arriving at this bitter moment of self-realization as

 455

she overhears the conversation about the planning of war between her husbands

and Krishna. The men, including her husbands and Krishna, have collectively

fooled her into a false sense of power by making her believe that she had been the

deciding factor behind the war. Deshpande charts the journey of Draupadi‘s arrival

at the moment of this bitter recognition. The men around her cannot make a proper

estimate of her intelligence for they think that she can be beguiled with words and

promises. Little do they know that Draupadi‘s bitter experiences in the past have

made her extremely skeptical of the promises that men make to women. She

expresses her utter disregard of such promises as she says, ―Words, words, words.

I have had enough of them in my lifetime. They mean nothing now. And it is

words that have shaped my life‖ (Deshpande, Collected Stories 242). Draupadi‘s

realization of the falsity of words is re-validated when her faith in her husbands is

betrayed. She is confronted with the illusion-shattering truth that the war had

already been decided upon and that her opinion was never the motive behind it.

This falls in line with Irawati Karve‘s view regarding the insignificance of

Draupadi‘s insult as the reason behind the war.501 Since Deshpande was highly

influenced by Karve‘s rereading of the Mahabharata, it is quite evident that she

uses Karve‘s contention as the controlling motif of her story. Deshpande has tried

to present Draupadi as a woman whose intelligence on the one hand makes her

critical and suspicious of men, but on the other hand underlines her need to learn

that even the greatest of insults done to a woman is not enough to make men go to

a war.

501
Draupadi did not cause the war. She wanted it, but as the true inheritors of India‘s patriarchal
society, the Pandavas were hardly men to bow to the wishes of their wives. (Karve 86)
 456

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni too has portrayed Draupadi as a woman with

an independent mind who does not hesitate to voice her opinions which are often

at variance with the conventional line of thought. Her intelligence shines through

as she expresses her defiance of the stereotypical code of conduct that is prescribed

for women and subverts some of the uncritically accepted facts with her critical

and incisive reasoning. One of the examples of such subversion occurs in

Draupadi‘s refusal to accord the status of divinity to Krishna whom she considers

to be nothing more than human and admits only a strain of unusualness in him. She

knows the various stories that circulate about him but by maintaining incredulity

towards them, she proves that her mind is skeptical enough to not accept

everything at face value. Draupadi says in this context:

I didn‘t pay too much attention to the stories, some of which claimed that he
was a god, descended from celestial realms to save the faithful. People
loved to exaggerate, and there was nothing like a dose of the supernatural to
spice up the drudgery of facts. But I admitted this much: there was
something unusual about him. (Divakaruni 10)

Draupadi‘s refusal to admit Krishna‘s divinity in Divakaruni‘s novel constitutes an

important marker of her skeptical and questioning bent of mind. It stands in

contrast to the depiction of her character in Pratibha Ray‘s novel where her relation

with Krishna has been portrayed within the contours of the bhakti tradition,

thereby eliminating any possibility of doubt regarding the divinity of Krishna.

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi is also shown as being an avid learner; her

interference during the lessons of her brother angers his tutor who has been

especially appointed for imparting education to him. She stands behind the curtain

and prompts the answers as her brother falters, to which his instructor takes great

exception. Draupadi says how her father was initially reluctant to impart formal
 457

education to her along with her brother since it was uncustomary. It was only after

Krishna interceded and convinced Drupad of the necessity of educating her beyond

the limits prescribed for women, as her birth was meant to accomplish an

exceptional task that her father had acquiesced to his advice. Her own family and

acquaintances were quite skeptical of the consequences of the lessons being taught

to her which, they apprehended, would cause her to deviate from a woman‘s

conventional role. Divakaruni‘s Draupadi speaks of the patriarchal anxiety

surrounding her education on the one hand and her enormous appetite for learning

on the other. She says:

Even Dhai Ma, my accomplice in so many other areas of my life, regarded

the lessons with misgiving. She complained that they were making me too
hardheaded and argumentative, too manlike in my speech. Dhri, too,
sometimes wondered if I wasn‘t learning the wrong things, ideas that would
only confuse me as I took up a woman‘s life with its prescribed, restrictive
laws. But I hungered to know about the amazing, mysterious world that
extended past what I could imagine, the world of the senses and that which
lay beyond them. And so I refused to give up the lessons, no matter who
disapproved. (Divakaruni 23-24)

Dhai Ma‘s attitude is typical of the way in which patriarchy co-opts women

within its misogynist ideology and converts them from free-thinkers into its own

agents engaged in the process of perpetuating its prescriptions to the next

generation of men and women. Draupadi, however, refuses to be co-opted into this

programme and charts out an independent course of action that is enabled and

empowered by her education. She resents the fact that her brother gets the

opportunity to learn a far greater variety of subjects than are taught to her,

particularly the subject of statecraft. She speaks of her desire to learn and

understand the discourse of power for she says, ―These were the lessons I most

envied him, the lessons that conferred power. They were the ones I needed to

know if I were to change history‖ (Divakaruni 27). Her interest lies in those
 458

branches of learning that are considered fit for men rather than women. The

division of the various branches of learning on the lines of gender has led to a very

unfortunate classification that is done on absolutely irrational grounds. Draupadi

speaks of the immense effort that is taken by her father to enhance her skills in

those sixty-four arts that are traditionally considered to be the typical domain of

women‘s expertise. Draupadi, however, fails to acquire the requisite degree of

perfection in these arts and instead finds interest in a different set of activities that

are not considered to be quite ―feminine.‖ She says:

An unending stream of women flowed through my apartments each day,

attempting to instruct me in the sixty-four arts that noble ladies must know.
I was given lessons in singing, dancing, and playing music. (The lessons
were painful, both for my teachers and me, for I was not musically inclined,
nor deft on my feet.) I was taught to draw, paint, sew, and decorate the
ground with age-old auspicious designs, each meant for a special festival.
(My paintings were blotchy, and my designs full of improvisations that my
teachers frowned at.) I was better at composing and solving riddles,
responding to witty remarks, and writing poetry, but my heart was not in
such frivolities. With each lesson I felt the world of women tightening its
noose around me. (Divakaruni 29)

Draupadi‘s interest lies in a set of activities which do not coalesce with the domain

of the so-called feminine arts. Her intelligence challenges the patriarchal

construction of femininity as deprived of intellectual content and as veering

towards the cultivation of mere mechanical skills which seldom require

engagement of the mental faculty.

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi questions the prophecy made by Vyasa about

having five husbands in the future and quotes from the shastras to validate her

statement. Vyasa has been traditionally accepted as a great figure of patriarchal

authority within the epic, credited with the composition of the Mahabharata, but

Draupadi refuses to accept his predictions simply because he is the author of her
 459

life-story. Her intelligent reasoning and critical bent of mind prevents her from

accepting certain things out of a sense of reverence that precludes any logical

thinking. In an uninhibited critique of the great patriarch Draupadi says:

Now I know he‘s a fake! Why, in all my years I‘ve never heard of a woman
with more than one husband! You know what our shastras call women
who‘ve been with more than one man, don‘t you? Though no one seems to
have a problem when men sleep with a different wife each day of the week!
(Divakaruni 42)

Rather than mutely accept her forthcoming predicament ungrudgingly, Draupadi

uses the very body of knowledge that has been traditionally appropriated by men to

question Vyasa‘s apparently preposterous prediction. The epic does provide

several instances of the way in which Draupadi uses her intelligence to question

the patriarchal knowledge that is often resorted to by men to keep women under

subjugation.

The sexist nature of the scriptures is exposed by Divakaruni‘s Draupadi as

she points out the way in which men are exonerated from blame in case of lapse in

morality whereas women are subjected to severe chastisement for the same

transgression. The scriptures prescribe much more rigorous punishments for

women in case of violation of the sexual code whereas there is no severe penalty

for men. Draupadi‘s education and training do not make her vulnerable to male

interpretation of the scriptures for she is capable of an independent analysis based

on her own reasoning and judgement. For example, she does not quite agree with

the remarks of her brother‘s tutor who holds the opinion, supposedly derived from

the scriptures, that virtuous women were redirected to be born as men in their next

births. She would rather prefer women to be sent to a place where men are

prohibited to enter so that they can rest in peace and be free of the demands
 460

imposed by men (Divakaruni 155). Holding such ideas amounts to nurturing

dreams of a feminist utopia and such details of her personality recast the epic

heroine in the image of a revolutionary woman.

As Draupadi narrates her story, the readers become aware of the richness of

her intellectual range. During one conversation with Krishna she speaks of her

reading of the Puranas which contain the mythological tales of Hindu gods and

goddesses. Draupadi says that it is from her reading of the Puranas that she has

acquired knowledge about Krishna‘s past lives (Divakaruni 50). She also shares

her experience of reading a volume of ―nyaya shastra‖ (Divakaruni 53) which is

the science of juridical reason. Draupadi regrets that her father has terminated her

lessons as he felt that she ought to ―focus on more feminine interests‖ (Divakaruni

53). Disregarding her father‘s caveat and refusing to spend time in frivolities like

the other women of the royal household, Draupadi insists on reading her volume of

the ―nyaya shastra,‖ for she feels that knowledge alone would empower her. She

sees knowledge as an alternative means of gaining access to power and discards

the traditionally held notion that knowledge is the exclusive domain of men.

Draupadi also shows her keen understanding in matters of governance on which

even her husbands seek her advice:

My husbands, too, learned to appreciate my strength. We were all surprised

to discover that I had a good eye for matters of governance. More and more,
Yudhisthira began to ask my advice when a tricky judgment had to be
delivered. (Divakaruni 148)

She displays her acumen in matters related to the public sphere of life which,

again, is a domain into which women‘s entry is usually either completely denied or

heavily restricted.
 461

Draupadi actually enters into the public space on three important

occasions—the first being her swayamvara, the second her disrobing, and the last

her appeal in the court of Virata against the molestation of Keechaka. In all these

cases Draupadi enters as a female body which is constructed purely in terms of a

sexualized being. Divakaruni allows for an alternative means of engaging with the

public space—this time in Draupadi‘s capacity as a thinking individual, who can

give suggestions about the means of good governance to the king. Divakaruni

liberates her Draupadi from the compulsion and the accompanying trauma of

entering into the public space through the one-dimensional and essentialized

identity of a physical body. It is Draupadi‘s intellect which is shown as enabling a

process of transition in her mode of participation in the sphere of the public life.

At a later point in the narrative, when Dhai Ma informs Draupadi of the

dire course of events that had taken place during the dice match leading to the

pawning of herself, Draupadi reacts with outrage at Yudhishthira‘s appalling

irresponsibility. Recollecting the words of the ―nyaya shastra‖ which she had read,

Draupadi tries to defend her freedom by advancing the argument that a man who

has lost himself ceases to have any rights over the person of his wife: ―My head

reeled, but I steadied myself. I tried to remember other words from the Nyaya

Shastra. If perchance a man lost himself, he no longer had any jurisdiction over his

wife‖ (Divakaruni 190). Sending back the servant with this message, Draupadi

feels that she would surely be able to escape the ignominy of appearing in the

midst of the assembly-hall clad in a single piece of attire. But her hopes are dashed

to the ground as she says:

It was good that I was no unlettered girl, ignorant of the law. The elders
would know the rule I referred to. They would put an end to Duryodhan‘s
 462

effrontery. Bheeshma in particular wouldn‘t stand for my being insulted in

this way. I still had much to worry about, but at least I was saved from the
indignity of being ogled by Duryodhan‘s cronies.
In thinking this I was mistaken. In what happened next, the laws of men
would not save me. (Divakaruni 191)

The ―laws of men‖ fail to protect the woman whose confidence in her knowledge

of those very laws comes to no avail. Draupadi is critical of the message of the

Gita as well, for she says that such wisdom needs to be tested before it can be

accepted. She remarks, ―Wisdom that isn‘t distilled in our own crucible can‘t help

us‖ (Divakaruni 264). Divakaruni makes her heroine skeptical of anything that she

has not examined for herself, just as on an earlier occasion she had expressed her

distrust of the supposedly magical vessel gifted to her by Vyasa:

I was suspicious of Vyasa‘s pot (gifts from sages, I‘d learned, often came
trailing complications) but so far it had borne out his claim. (Sometimes
being of a doubting nature, I wondered if it was so because our guests made
sure there was always enough food left in the pot for me. But deep down I
knew that this world is filled with mystery. (Divakaruni 200)

It is her exceptionally skeptical and intelligent mind that makes Divakaruni‘s

Draupadi take an alternative, and often critical, view of things. For example, she

refuses to perceive Drona‘s treatment of Ekalavya as an instance of the latter‘s

great love for his favourite disciple Arjuna. Instead she feels that it was an

expression of Drona‘s cruelty which could have serious consequences in the

future:

For Arjuna the incident proved how much his teacher loved him. But I,
thinking of the forever-lost talent of Eklavya as I looked down at
Kurukshetra, wondered if it didn‘t demonstrate Drona‘s ruthlessness, his
readiness to do anything to win. What shape would that ruthlessness take
over the next few days? (Divakaruni 286)

Apart from condemning Drona as ―ruthless,‖ Draupadi is often seen as making

several comments on the war, most of which are severely critical, and Divakaruni

makes her heroine a perspicacious observer of the events that are taking place on

the battlefield. Draupadi‘s re-evaluation of the war in the novel casts doubt on the
 463

epic representation of a simplistic binary division of the Pandavas as all-good and

the Kauravas as all-evil. She questions the unjust means resorted to by the

Pandavas in killing Jayadratha and Drona (Divakaruni 291-92). In the case of

Jayadratha, Krishna had created the illusion of a false sunset to deceive him into

believing that the day‘s battle had come to an end. As a result he emerged elated

from his hiding, thinking that he was safe, but was mercilessly killed by Arjuna a

little later. In the case of Drona it was announced that Ashwatthama was killed.

Ashwatthama was actually the name of an elephant killed by Bheema but it was

also the name of Drona‘s only son. Drona refused to believe that his son was killed

and said that he would do so only if Yudhishthira validated the statement since it

was well known that Yudhishthira never told a lie. Yudhishthira, however,

swerved from his habit and said that it was true – thus giving in to falsehood for

the one time in his life. On hearing this Drona lost his fighting spirit and gave up

his arms in despair, to be assaulted and killed by Dhristadhyumna. Draupadi,

commenting on this scene of gruesome cruelty, says about her own brother, ―His

laughter was so like that of the men who had killed Abhimanyu that had I not been

watching, I couldn‘t have told them apart‖ (Divakaruni 292). Such is the nature of

crime that it renders the Kauravas and the Padavas indistinguishable in Draupadi‘s

judgement. Divakaruni‘s re-telling makes Draupadi emerge as an exceptionally

sharp-witted woman who, with her razor-sharp intelligence, is able to unsettle

several of the established notions regarding most of the crucial events of the epic.
 464

RELATIONSHIP WITH KRISHNA AND KARNA

The concluding section of this chapter is going to undertake an examination

of the relationship of Draupadi with other men besides her five husbands. The two

most important names in this context are of Krishna and Karna. The Mahabharata

shows Draupadi as being dependent on Krishna on a few occasions, such as when

she calls out to him for help during her disrobing and when she falls short of food

to feed the retinue of the ascetic Durvasa who were her guests during the

Pandavas‘ exile in the forest. On both these occasions he comes to her rescue and

both incidents assert the status of Krishna as a figure of divinity who comes to the

aid of his devotee rather than his friend, as Draupadi is supposed to be. The

significance of bhakti as a form of worship can be clearly seen in these two

episodes. On another occasion when he comes to visit the Pandavas in the forest,

she appeals him to take revenge for her insult during the dice game and he in turn

assures her that she would be re-installed as the queen of Indraprastha.

Krishna comes to Draupadi‘s aid when her husbands fail to protect her and

thereby wins her faith on more than one occasion. The figure of Krishna, as

represented in the epic, swings between the image of a statesman and a God. That

is the reason why he is seen at times as the saviour whose support ensures the

victory of the Pandavas and at times as a king and ruler who has to get involved in

state politics as the duty of a statesman. Due to this dual status of Krishna,

Draupadi on some occasions is seen as almost worshipping him and on other

occasions as speaking with him as a friend. With regard to the other man i.e.

Karna, the Mahabharata does not depict any instance of closeness between him

and Draupadi although it is known that some texts have represented Draupadi as
 465

nursing a secret desire for him.502 Both Krishna and Karna are shown as playing an

important role in Draupadi‘s life in two of the works selected for analysis in this

thesis – Pratibha Ray‘s Yajnaseni and Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni‘s novel The

Palace of Illusions. The following discussion will therefore focus on this issue

with respect to the aforesaid novels.

In Pratibha Ray‘s novel, Draupadi begins her letter to Krishna signing it as

―your dear sakhi‖ which, at the very outset, hints at the nature of the relationship

that Ray wishes to delineate between her and Krishna. The novel casts their

friendship along the lines of the relationship that exists between the devotee and

the god within a strand of the bhakti tradition, whereby the devotee worships the

god as a beloved toward whom the feelings of love and reverence get subtly

blended. Addressing the letter in which she chronicles the story of her life to her

sakha Krishna, Draupadi says:

This letter, written with my blood, is my only companion on the road to

death. While reading my own letter should my soul leave the body,
remember that it is you who are its recipient, Priya Sakha! Govind! O best
of all men Krishna! Madhusudan! Krishnaa‘s pranam! (Ray 2)

The word sakha is difficult to translate into English, for the connotation of

friendship that is implied by it goes beyond the common understanding of the term

in regular parlance. It means a very close camaraderie that exists between two

people, which is also accompanied by an understanding born of spiritual

association.

502
Irawati Karve, for example, attributes the notion of Draupadi nourishing a desire for Karna to a
later Jain Purana. (Karve 86)
 466

Sushil Kumar De, in his translation of one of the most fundamental texts

dealing with the emotional aspect of Bengal Vaishnavism – titled bhakti-

rasamitra-sindhu by Rupa Goswamin and translated as The Sea of the Nectar of

Devotional Sentiment503 – offers an extensive analysis of the main points of

Goswamins‘s thesis. Goswamin examines the religious sentiment of bhakti within

the Sanskrit literary theory of enjoyment known as rasa. He deals with bhakti in its

multifarious manifestations by exploring its underlying psychological, emotional,

sentimental, romantic, erotic, amorous, devotional, spiritual and religious aspects.

In his classification of the various types of bhakti-rasa, one is called preyas, in

which devotion is conceived as friendship. Sushil Kumar De summarizes

Goswamin‘s exposition of the various bhakti-rasas and their related

characteristics, of which some terms and their meanings need to be briefly

explained. Each bhakti-rasa is accompanied by its respective Sthāyi-bhāvas,

Vibhāvas, Anubhāvas, Sāttvikas, and Vyabhicari-bhavas. Sthāyi-bhāva means the

dominant or permanent emotion of which sakhya i.e. friendship is identified as

one. Vibhāvas have been translated as excitants i.e. that ―which make the dominant

emotion (sthāyi-bhāva) capable of being relished.‖504 The anubhāvas are the

ensuants i.e. that ―which follow and strengthen an emotion and comprise its

outward manifestations‖;505 the sāttvikas refer to the ―external signs of internal

emotion‖506 and the vyabhicāri-bhāvas are ―subsidiary feelings of a more or less

transitory nature, which are accessory, and which accompany or interrupt the

dominant emotion (Sthāyi-bhāva) without, however, supplanting it.‖507 Coming to

503
Sushil Kumar De, Early History of the Vaisnava Faith and Movement in Bengal: From Sanskrit
and Bengali Sources. (Calcutta: Firma K. L. Mukhopadhyay, 1961).
504
De 183.
505
De 188.
506
De 188.
507
De 190.
 467

the bhakti-rasa of preyas, its sthāyi-bhāva is sakhya-rati i.e. the ―feeling of

friendship and confidence‖508; its vibhāvas include ―sakhi (a little younger in age),

priya sakhi (same-age)‖;509 its anubhāvas include ―various sports and pastimes,

pleasantry, close companionship in sleep and waking etc‖510 and its sāttvikas

include ―stambha, sveda etc‖511 i.e. stupor and perspiration respectively. The

Krishna-Draupadi relationship as delineated by Ray illustrates several of the

features discussed above, which qualifies it to be examined within the matrix of

bhakti.

Draupadi addresses Krishna as sakha and he in turn addresses her as sakhi

which is the feminine version of the same. Ray‘s Draupadi writes this letter to her

dear friend lying alone and helpless on the mountain where she has been

abandoned to die by her husbands. Once again it is Krishna to whom she turns for

solace at a time when her husbands have deserted her for she says, ―And today

when once again my five husbands have gone ahead leaving me helpless, I am

offering myself to you. All my grief and agony, insults and heartbreaks—I am

offering you everything‖ (Ray 4).

In Ray‘s novel Draupadi, at the time of her birth, is named Krishnaa and

Drupad proclaims that he will offer his daughter who is also named Krishnaa to

Krishna since he is the greatest of men (Ray 9). On hearing this, Draupadi is

curious to know about Krishna whom she had never seen. The word Krishna

denotes darkness and symbolises the dark skin colour of both Draupadi and

508
De 196.
509
Ibid.
510
Ibid.
511
Ibid.
 468

Krishna. The interplay between their names carries a symbolic significance, for

both of them are associated with destruction in some way or the other—Krishna in

his role as Arjuna‘s charioteer, playing a pivotal role in the defeat of the Kauravas

and Draupadi by her birth which is prophesied to cause the destruction of the

Kshatriyas. Alf Hiltebeitel has pointed to an interesting theological puzzle

involving Draupadi, Krishna and Arjuna. Since Krishna is the incarnation of

Vishnu whose consort is Sri-Lakshmi and Draupadi is the incarnation of Sri, there

appears to be a complication in the relationship involving Draupadi and Krishna

after her marriage to Arjuna and the rest of the Pandavas. The possibility of an

implicit love triangle existing between the three has not been ruled out by

Hiltebeitel.512

Ray‘s Draupadi first meets Krishna in a manner that follows the

conventions of Sanskrit love poetry where the woman in love is depicted as

swooning out of love-sickness for the beloved. Draupadi‘s sakhis i.e. her friends

keep teasing her about Krishna and listening to the description of his form she goes

into a trance and has to be literally revived. Her situation approximates to the state

of stambha i.e. stupor which has been listed as one of the sāttvikas accompanying

the preyas bhakti-rasa. Soon after, her father Drupad arrives with the royal guest

who is none other than Krishna himself and Draupadi offers flowers at his feet as a

tribute. She is so moved by the sight of his lotus-shaped feet that she spends the

whole night writing poems in his honour. Later on in the narrative, Arjuna recites

the poems which Draupadi had written about his sakha Krishna and appreciates

512
Alf Hiltebeitel, ―Two Krsnas, Three Krsnas, Four Krsnas, More Krsnas: Dark Interactions in the
‗Mahābhārata.‖ Journal of South Asian Literature, 20.1: 72.
 469

them (Ray 84). The awe-inspiring, magnetic charm of Krishna gets highlighted in

this episode in line with the popular legend of Krishna as the favourite of the gopis

or milk-maidens of Brindaban, which is a recurrent subject of bhakti literature.

Draupadi is shown as behaving like one of the gopis, mesmerized by the charm of

Krishna. The potential love angle in the relationship between Draupadi and

Krishna is heightened by her sakhi Nitambini who teases Draupadi about the way

in which she calls out the name of her pet bird Nilmani which happens to be

another name of Krishna himself. Annoyed at this, Draupadi lets the bird fly out of

the cage and it comes back with a peacock feather that smells of sandal-wood in its

beak and utters the name ―Krishnaa‖ for the first time. Nitambini tells Draupadi

that the bird Nilmani was taught this name by Krishna himself since he keeps

chanting her name (Ray 22).

The time for Krishna‘s departure from Drupad‘s palace arrives, and as

Draupadi goes to meet him he tells her that both of them are united by the purpose

for which they have taken birth -- the protection of dharma (Ray 22). He advises

Drupad to arrange for her swayamvara so that she can be claimed by Arjuna

regarding whom Krishna says, ―Our bodies are separate, but our souls are one‖

(Ray 23). He also says that Arjuna is born out of a part of him and hence they are

inseparable. Hearing this, Draupadi mentally prepares herself to accept Arjuna as

her husband and resigns herself to the fate that Krishna has determined for her.

This kind of complete surrender to one‘s destiny at the behest of the lord,

accepting him to be the ultimate arbitrator of one‘s life, is one of the basic tenets of

the bhakti tradition. Delineating the complicated nature of the relationship that is

going to be established between Draupadi, Arjuna and himself, Krishna says:

 470

Never put a knot in the bonds of love in which sakha Arjun has bound me. I
have the right to share in your love for Arjun. I am a partner in all the
victories and defeats of Arjun, in all that he gets and loses. Before eating,
Arjun offers the food to me. Without offering it to me, Arjun does not even
touch water. But I do not eat the food Arjun offers; I only consume his
craving. In the same manner despite belonging to Arjun, my relationship
with your subtlest essence is eternal and immortal. Never forget this. (Ray
24-25)

Krishna defines his relationship with Arjuna as that of a sakha—a term

which also defines the nature of his relationship with Draupadi. The three of them

are therefore united in this unique bond whereby despite having individual entities

they are ultimately inalienable from the essence of Krishna—an idea which is one

of the ruling principles of bhakti which culminates in the worshipper merging

his/her identity with that of the divine. Soon after hearing this Draupadi says:

The very moment I split into two. My subtlest essence merged into his deep
blue radiant essence. My other portion remained as the body of Draupadi-
of-the-svayamvar, amid earthly pleasures, desires and anxieties in the royal
palace of Panchal, waiting for Arjun. (Ray 25)

These words of Draupadi illustrate the sense of complete surrender that governs

the nature of her relationship with Krishna—a feeling that is missing even in her

relationship with her husbands. Krishna plays the role of an anchor in her life, for

at various moments of material and emotional crisis he is seen as imparting her

important lessons about the philosophy of life. One such instance occurs when

Draupadi mourns the reported death of Arjuna along with the other Pandavas in the

fire that burnt the lac house where they had taken shelter in Varnavat. It is Krishna

who tries to console her by saying that even sorrow has a purpose behind it and

one should not put oneself unnecessarily into distress anticipating the worst before

it has actually happened (Ray 38). On another occasion, when Draupadi is

perplexed and angry at the proposition of becoming the common wife of all the

five Pandavas, it is Krishna who assuages her temper and explains that in order to
 471

preserve unity among the brothers it is necessary that she accept the proposal (Ray

61-62).

Soon after garlanding the Brahmin youth who was actually Arjuna in

disguise, Draupadi is taken aback by his resemblance to Krishna and thinks that

whoever be this youth, she would consider him to be Arjuna since a part of

Krishna is present in every human being. In fact she is so confused by the

similarity in their looks that while looking at their feet she was about to garland

Krishna instead of the Brahmin youth. One can perhaps catch the amorous

implication of this apparent mistake on the part of Draupadi. It has already been

discussed that in Pratibha Ray‘s novel Draupadi is Sri-incarnate, who is the consort

of Vishnu, and hence the possibility of her having a marital union with Krishna

who is the manifestation of Vishnu is not unimaginable. Having convinced herself

by the logic of the omnipresence of Krishna and accepted the young Brahmin as

Arjuna, Draupadi says:

Then I understood that there was a similarity in the face of Krishna and that
of this brave youth because of which at first sight he had seemed somehow
familiar to me and had attracted me. Actually, there was a charisma in
Krishna because of which every grief and sorrow of the world disappeared
on catching sight of any part of his body. That was why however much I
might be annoyed with Krishna, the moment I caught sight of him I forgot it
all. (Ray 47)

Krishna addresses Draupadi as ―priya sakhi‖ after her marriage to Arjuna and

gives her as a wedding gift his special maid Maya. As has been already discussed,

―priya-sakhi‖ is classified as one of the vibhāvas of the preyas bhakti-rasa, which

is used to refer to Krishna‘s friend of the same age. While offering Maya to

Draupadi, he says, ―Arjun, despite being a younger brother, is also my priya sakha.

As his wife, from today you are my priya sakhi. Hence my first gift to you is dear
 472

Maya‖ (Ray 89). Draupadi therefore becomes united in a special bond with

Krishna through her relationship with Arjuna. In fact Krishna accords her the same

status as that of Arjuna and thereby establishes the foundation of a very strong and

life-long companionship which carries a spiritual undercurrent. Krishna

understands the complications that are going to come up in the life of Draupadi

after marriage and she thanks Krishna for his clairvoyance in making her the gift

of Maya who he says will assist her in difficult situations. This episode is an

addition to the epic narrative as the Mahabharata makes no mention of Krishna‘s

gift of his maid to Draupadi. These details are added to enhance the effect of an

imaginative re-telling of the epic. Ray‘s novel incorporates imaginary characters

and episodes to lend substance to the story of Draupadi and to anchor her narrative

within a web of personalised relationships that go beyond the limits of the epic.

This particular incident emphasizes the intimacy that exists between Krishna and

his sakhi, not only in his capacity as a friend who cares for her but also perhaps in

his capacity as a divine figure whose duty is to mitigate the sufferings of the

devotee. The personae of the devotee and the friend coalesce in the figure of

Krishna as portrayed by Ray.

The problems that arise as a result of the polyandrous marriage make

Draupadi agitated, particularly when Arjuna refuses to accept her nursing at a time

he is indisposed. He explains that if he accepts her nursing it would amount to a

violation of the condition of individual marital cohabitation and create division

among the brothers. She finds his reasoning extremely insulting and at such a

moment of personal grief the thought of Krishna comes to Draupadi‘s mind:

Therefore, when mental anguish became unbearable, I made the wish for the
appearance of Govind. All this silent agony of the mind could not be poured
 473

out before anyone else. All the affairs of conjugal life cannot be expressed
before everyone. There are some hurts, many feelings, that remain
unexpressed throughout life—even before one‘s own husband. But before
Govind I did not know how all secrecy, all hesitation, all gaps vanished—it
left me amazed when I thought of it. (Ray 150)

Draupadi‘s feelings clearly express how candid and uninhibited she can be in the

company of her sakha Krishna whom she refers to as Govind, which is a very

popular name of Krishna and one very commonly used by his devotees. The

emotional and mental inadequacy that is felt by Draupadi in her relationship with

her husbands is compensated by the mental proximity she has with her dear friend

Krishna. His relationship with her operates like a safety valve that absorbs the

woes and tensions of her married life and offers her mental solace.

Understanding the disturbed state of Draupadi‘s mind Krishna advises her to

go to the forest by the banks of the river to relieve her stress through the

recreational visit. This constitutes one of the anubhāvas of the preyas bhakti rasa

where Krishna indulges in sports and pastimes with his devotees. It is during this

trip that Krishna recounts the incident of the demon Narakasur who had raped a

thousand virgins and tells her how he had rescued them by killing the monster.

Thereafter he had married all of them in order to save them from social disgrace

for nobody was ready to accept those women as their wives. Everybody thought

that their bodies had been sullied as a result of their rape but Krishna felt that the

soul remains ever-pure and hence by accepting them he had accepted their souls

(Ray 153). Hearing this, Draupadi thinks: ―From long back I had been in love with

the soul of the perfect lover, Krishna. Now I was regretting in secret why that

Narakasur had not imprisoned me along with those thousand virgins‖ (Ray 153-

54). The burden imposed by her own unusual marital situation causes Draupadi to
 474

make such a wish. It is important to note that marriage with the five Pandavas

involves physical consummation with each of them whereas the model of love that

is put forward by Krishna liberates the body by elevating the soul as he says:

I have respected the immaculate souls of those thousand princesses, married

them, accepted them. Where the souls unite, bodily relations become a
minor matter. Therefore, if I stay back in Indraprasth my wives will not
curse you. I have not married them out of lust to enjoy their bodies. I loved
their souls and they are all lovers of my soul. Those who cannot understand
the nature of my love call me a debauch. (Ray 153)

Krishna advocates a spiritual love that surpasses carnal desire and in doing so puts

forward an emancipating ideal for women, which frees them from the social

ostracism of being ‗fallen‘ once their bodies had been subjected to violation

leading to the loss of ―chastity.‖ For Krishna, the body is immaterial and it is his

association with the soul that defines the nature of his relationship with these

women. In a society that cannot think of marriage as other than physical, Krishna‘s

alternative model might seem too idealistic to be accepted in reality.

During one of Draupadi‘s conversations with Krishna and Arjuna,

Krishna‘s finger suddenly starts bleeding and both Draupadi and Arjuna are

shocked to see this. Krishna explains that it is due to the Sudarshan chakra, which

had to be released to save a tribal boy from the attack of a tiger. Here one gets to

see the role of Krishna as the divine protector who is ever-mindful and protective

toward his devotees (Ray 158-59). Draupadi tears the end of her sari and ties it as a

bandage around Krishna‘s wounded finger. She is reprimanded by Maya for

having torn the sari presented to her by the Pandavas on the day of the

inauguration of the assembly-hall of Indraprasth, wearing which she had sat with

Yudhishthira at the fire-altar. Considering such an act to be inauspicious, Maya

tells Draupadi that she ought not to have torn her sari. Draupadi, however, defends
 475

her action saying that nothing inauspicious can ever happen by sacrificing anything

for Krishna, and even if some untoward thing happens he will always protect them

(Ray 159). One can recognize the absolute faith and dependence that Draupadi has

for Krishna, befitting the nature of dedication that is expected of a true devotee.

Krishna too is overwhelmed by Draupadi‘s spontaneous gesture of help and says

that he would have to repay her debt—a reference to his future act of rescuing her

with an endless supply of garment during her disrobing by Duhshashana.

Krishna once again visits Draupadi during the period of Arjuna‘s absence

from Indraprastha as a result of the exile of twelve years that he had undertaken on

account of having broken the marital rule. He says that he has come to enquire

about her well-being in the absence of Arjuna and Draupadi is overwhelmed by his

concern for her. At night Draupadi is surprised to find a faint light in Arjuna‘s

bedroom (Ray 190) and, thinking that he has returned, she stealthily moves

towards his room. But to her utter amazement she finds Krishna lying on his bed

and she keeps waiting at the entrance for the whole night. Contemplating on the

nature of her attraction for Krishna she says:

I was turning my feet to return, but they would not move. Even if I stood for
eternity near Krishna‘s bed, they would not tire. I repeatedly acknowledged
defeat before this amazing power of attraction of Krishna. Spontaneously I
became one with him. The soul became free from the cage of the body. The
mind wished it could renounce this body and become bodiless and lose itself
in love of Krishna. Past, present and future all disappeared. (Ray 192)

This idea of losing oneself in contemplation of the divine is reiterated throughout

the novel and is one of the central tenets of the bhakti tradition. In his discussion of

the ultimately self-abnegating, self-forgetting and absolutely selfless nature of

devotion within the bhakti tradition especially in the context of Vaishnavism,

Ashim Kumar Bhattacharya offers the following explanation:

 476

The path of Bhakti or the ‗Bhakti Yoga‘ is the path for attaining the spiritual
liberation. Bhakti means loving and adoring service to God. In the
devotional sense, it means complete loving servitude or ‗Sevā‘, that is,
whole-hearted loving service of the Supreme Being without any other
consideration than the joy of serving the beloved lord.513

When Draupadi speaks about her attraction for Krishna, she casts herself in

the role of a Vaishnava i.e. a devotee of Vishnu (in his incarnation as Krishna) who

wants to become one with the divine. The same feeling is manifested on another

occasion when Draupadi, after her initial angry disapproval of Subhadra as the co-

wife of Arjuna, is eventually able to accept her with open arms as Krishna

intervenes to plead on Arjuna‘s behalf and is able to placate her. Draupadi

reconciles herself to Subhadra by raising her consciousness to a higher level of

dedication to her friend Krishna, for she thinks that the arrival of Subhadra has

given her an opportunity to prove her affection for Krishna since Subhadra is his

sister. She also feels that it is Krishna whom she loves despite having five

husbands, as the essence of Krishna pervades the soul of every living creature and

no matter whom one loves it amounts to loving Krishna only. Therefore on the day

that Draupadi decks the new bride Subhadra for her wedding-night with Arjuna,

she does not feel either anger or jealousy. She says:

I could state with pride, although I had a weakness for Arjun, yet the day on
which I was in any husband‘s apartment, there was in me no weakness
regarding the other husbands. Then I convinced myself that I had only one
husband. My entire love and dedication I poured out at his feet. Then no
other man hid in my subconscious except Krishna....In every breath that
Arjun drew, in every pore of his body I could hear Krishna‘s name.
Therefore, in loving Krishna my chastity or devotion to my husbands was
not affected. Love of Krishna was pure, incomparable, far above all hopes
and desires. Therefore, I sometimes felt proud of my own chastity and
faithfulness. (Ray 205)

It is interesting to note how the question of chastity is subsumed within the

rhetoric of divine love. Love for Krishna liberates one from the ignominy of

513
Ashim Kumar Bhattacharya, Hindu Dharma: Introduction to Scriptures and Theology. (Lincoln:
iUniverse, 2006), 134.
 477

getting branded as an ―unchaste‖ woman for his status as a figure of divinity offers

the woman a chance to seek a source of emotional support without bringing upon

herself any moral disrepute. The bhakti tradition can therefore be seen as offering

an empowering model by allowing women to worship a male deity in the form of a

lover or a husband without the fear of social ostracism. Love of Krishna, as

Draupadi points out, is seen as transcending the limits and concerns of the material

world, for it is non-bodily and spiritual in nature. Hence she feels proud of her

chastity as the love of Krishna does not violate her status and her reputation as a

―chaste‖ woman. This logic helps in foregrounding Draupadi‘s love for Krishna on

morally unproblematic ground and enables her to deal with the difficult situation

of being the wife of five men.

Draupadi‘s relationship with Krishna is poised between that of a friend and

devotee. The constant interplay between the two roles in evident throughout the

novel. During the disrobing she appeals to Krishna for help. It is at this moment

that Draupadi perceives him not as a sakha but as the lord who is the supreme

protector and in total surrender to whom resides absolute bliss and freedom from

all worldly suffering. She says:

On leaving everything to Krishna, if one got so much happiness, peace and

courage then why did he suffer so much getting his own self entangled in
every matter? Could even I comprehend this? At that moment, regarding
Krishna Vasudev as God instead of sakha, I was standing free from doubt
and fearless in the midst of danger. (Ray 243)

In his capacity as a sakha, Krishna‘s relationship with Draupadi is a personal one

and in his capacity as a deity, his relationship with her is of a universal nature. In

both the roles he is able to offer her a rare kind of support and fulfillment that is

wanting in her relationship with the Pandavas. The Mahabharata etches out the
 478

drama of Draupadi‘s emotional life vis-à-vis her five husbands but Ray‘s re-telling

attempts to broaden the scope of her narrative by giving her a very meaningful

relationship that exists outside the periphery of her married life.

When it is decided that the Pandavas along with Draupadi will have to

spend thirteen years in exile in the forest, Krishna tells her that he will occasionally

come to visit them in the forest and become their guest for love of the food that

Draupadi cooks. Hearing this Draupadi gets elated and says that in feeding him she

will feel the joy of feeding her own children – for children, guests and God are all

valued by her. Krishna, however, contradicts her immediately by saying:

Look, do not put me in the place of your children, guests or God. I am your
sakha. You are my sakhi. This relationship is far more refined than any
between two human beings. To give it a name is beyond the power and
knowledge of man. It is in this that I take delight. (Ray 255)

The nature of their relationship as explained by Krishna in the above lines makes it

very special and unique.

Another episode in which Krishna‘s role as sakha and the divine lord get

conjoined occurs during his sudden visit to the forest to meet the Pandavas. This

incident is found in the epic as well but Ray‘s representation makes it much more

personalised. It is Krishna‘s birthday and Draupadi keeps hoping that her sakha

will come to meet her. She does not take food thinking that he will arrive, for the

magic vessel that had been gifted to her would get exhausted once she took her

meal for the day. Arjuna however persuades her to eat, saying that since he and

Krishna are the same she can offer food to him for a second time and then eat

herself. Draupadi does as instructed but Krishna arrives in the middle of the night

and she is extremely embarrassed as there is no food left for him. Krishna,
 479

however, takes her palm with an apparent intention of reading her fortune but finds

a particle of food stuck in her finger and consumes it. Expressing great

contentment on having eaten that single food particle, he leaves in the morning.

Draupadi, however, comes to know the real reason behind his sudden arrival later

from the sage Narada who had come to visit them in the forest. Narada tells them

how Krishna had foiled the malicious intention of Duryodhana. The sage Durvasa

was pleased with the service of Duryodhana and had arrived in the Kamyaka forest

with his thousand disciples after midnight at his request. Since Duryodhana knew

that the magic vessel would run out of food at that time, he wanted the sage and his

disciples to seek the hospitality of the Pandavas so that, being unable to arrange for

food for so many people, the Pandavas would earn the terrible wrath of the sage

and get perished. Krishna had therefore arrived in the nick of time to forestall the

danger, for if his hunger was assuaged the hunger of the rest of the universe would

also be appeased. As a result Duravasa and his disciples went back with their

stomachs suddenly full. Draupadi‘s regard for Krishna increases after getting to

know about this and she offers herself at his feet like a true devotee (Ray 272-78).

The Durvasa episode once again attests to Krishna‘s role as the saviour.

On another occasion Krishna comes to visit the Pandavas in the forest,

along with his second wife Satyabhama. Draupadi, however, reproaches him for

not coming to meet her during the period when Arjuna was away on his mission to

swarga to seek divine weapons. She blames him for having come to see them only

after Arjuna‘s return. Krishna corrects her misconception by telling her about the

way in which he had been her constant companion for the last five years. He

reminds her of the dreams that she used to have about Arjuna every night, about
 480

the image of Arjuna that she used to see in the lakes and the snowflakes of the

mountain and his shadow that she would often see walking beside her. Amazed to

hear this, Draupadi asks him how he came to know about those visions. Krishna

tells her that it was he who had taken the form of Arjuna all these years to give her

company. Those images, hallucinations and shadows were all created by him.

Satyabhama corroborates his words by telling Draupadi that Krishna was absent

from Dwarka and had been living in Badrikashram to look after Draupadi in the

absence of Arjuna. Krishna also tells Draupadi about the golden lotus which he

had deliberately plucked from Kuber‘s lake and sent to her with a letter dispatched

in it so that he could make her aware of his presence, but to his disappointment

Draupadi had never read the letter because she got so carried away by the external

beauty of the lotus that she wanted to procure a hundred of them to make a garland

for Arjuna.

The episode of the golden lotus is mentioned in the epic but Ray

reconstructs it to incorporate the interesting affair involving Krishna‘s letter. On

coming to know about it, Draupadi reads the letter which had remained hidden in

the petals of the flower she had preserved very carefully. The letter turns out to be

a declaration of the all-pervasive presence of Krishna addressed to his priya sakhi

Draupadi. He writes that he is like the sun and his true devotee is like the lotus

which sheds its petals on the sunlight that gets reflected in the water. The absolute

surrender of the lotus at the feet of the sun‘s reflection constitutes its ultimate joy.

Therefore one who does not recognize his [Krishna‘s] reflected form or glory as

his true essence is unable to find him (Ray 311). Having understood the meaning

of his letter, Draupadi pens down her reply on the petals of a flower where she
 481

says, ―He whom I seek in you is also no other than you. You are my Krishna, you

are my Arjun, you pervade the world, are far above hope and desire. You are my

sakha. Whether you are mine or not, I am yours, yours...‖ (Ray 311). Expressing a

similar feeling in a later conversation with Satyabhama, Draupadi further

elaborates on her attitude of total surrender to Krishna. She says:

Chandravali is one of the gopis and a great lover of Krishna. What is the
difference in the attitudes of Chandravali and Radha? Chandravali‘s attitude
towards Krishna is—you are mine. While Radha says—I am yours. Only
because of this difference Radha becomes superior to Chandravali. My
attitude towards Krishna is also the same. I say, ‗O Krishna, Krishnaa is
yours.‘ Since my very birth I have been in an attitude of surrender to
Krishna. (Ray 316)

The bond that exists between Krishna and Draupadi is an inextricable one.

Draupadi‘s devotion takes on the hue of friendship, thereby making her an

exemplar of the preyas bhakti rasa as illustrated earlier. Devotion interpenetrates

friendship in such a way that it becomes difficult to distinguish the one from the

other. Explaining the nature of his relationship to Draupadi, Krishna tells Arjuna,

―‗It is the difference between you and me. What you take in material form I absorb

subtly. Draupadi is yours but her supra-physical entity is mine‘‖ (Ray 312).

In the last moments of her life as she lies on the mountains, having been

abandoned by her husbands, Ray‘s Draupadi makes a final appeal to Krishna as the

sound of the flute seems to ring in her ears. Coming to the end of her letter

addressed to her sakha Draupadi demands a list of things. The first thing that she

asks for is that no woman should ever have several husbands at a time. Her second

wish is that nobody should ever grieve for the death of their children. In her third

wish Draupadi says that no woman should ever undergo the kind of suffering that

she had to go through in the assembly-hall, and her fourth wish is that there should
 482

be no such great war fought in the future as has been fought between Hastinapur

and Indraprastha. Draupadi says that she would like to be reborn on this earth in

order to rectify the mistakes of this life and, expressing her sixth wish to Krishna,

she prays:

For the faults of this life give me rebirth and on this same sacred earth: the
earth where you took birth in a mortal body. The soul of Bharata is
permeated with Krishna, bliss, love....Therefore, O greatest of lovers, let me
be born as a lover. Let me be born again and again as the beloved of Krishna
and a lover of the world. (Ray 397)

Having completed her list of final wishes, Draupadi has a vision of her dear ones

who had died in the war as having turned into the petals of a lotus and reached the

feet of Krishna. She attains a new consciousness with this divine vision whereby

all distinctions seem to dissolve at the lotus-feet of Krishna and reaching his feet

becomes the supreme attainment. All her miseries come to an end as she reaches

the moment of the dissolution of her earthly body and prepares for a new

beginning.

Coming to the portrayal of Draupadi‘s relationship with Karna, Ray has

taken a lot of imaginative license by adding certain events which are not part of the

main epic but which lead to the creation of a very riveting and emotionally-

charged subtext involving two of the most firebrand personalities of the epic. The

Mahabharata does not depict any intimacy between them; in fact they are hardly

ever shown as directly interacting with each other. The encounters that take place

between them are of an indirect nature—the first on the occasion of her

swayamvara when Karna‘s claim as a suitor is declined by Draupadi, and the

second his command to Duhshashana to disrobe her in the assembly-hall. There

are, however, some texts where Draupadi is shown as nursing a secret love for
 483

Karna.514 This variation has become a part of the popular imagination. Ray perhaps

takes inspiration from it to build the narrative of Draupadi and Karna. It is well-

known that Karna had to suffer life-long deprivation on account of being

abandoned at birth by his mother Kunti and, despite belonging to the royal

household of Hastinapur, he had to face the ignominy of belonging to a lower

social caste. Having been brought up by the charioteer Adhirath and his wife

Radha, he could not lay claim to any of the royal privileges that the Pandavas

enjoyed.

Ray‘s Draupadi is shown as rising above the petty caste prejudices of her

times in her sympathy for Karna as he is prevented from participating in the

swayamvara on the ground of his low caste. Although the objection is not raised

by Draupadi herself, yet she feels guilty and sorry for him as he retires with a

crestfallen look. She quietly asks for his forgiveness in her mind and blames

herself for this. Draupadi says to herself, ―‗Heroic Karna, if I have the slightest

role in the insult and abuse you have suffered, please forgive me. I feel your

anguish with all my heart and soul‘‖ (Ray 43).

Karna‘s hurt pride is manifested at several points in the narrative. Draupadi

is represented as nursing a secret admiration for him and the tension that exists in

their relationship is brought out very subtly through their interactions. When the

Pandavas arrive at Hastinapur, Draupadi spots a sad-looking man standing among

the Kauravas who had gathered to welcome them. When Maya tells her that the

514
Irawati Karve, for example, attributes the notion of Draupadi nourishing a desire for Karna to a
later Jain Purana. (Karve 86)
 484

man is none other than Karna, she feels sympathy for him and empathizes with his

predicament. His sorrow makes her sad as she contemplates on his deprivation due

to being a non-Kshatriya and decides to ask for his forgiveness if she ever gets an

opportunity (Ray 109). Ray‘s Draupadi comes out as a woman with a very strong

sense of justice and social equality which makes her rise above the narrow caste-

prejudices of her times to express compassion for Karna. Karna was standing with

a bouquet of blue roses and Maya tells Draupadi that he had selected those flowers

in order to offer them to her as they were very dear to her. Draupadi is surprised to

hear this and wonders how Karna could ever come to know that she was

particularly fond of blue roses. Draupadi remembers the day of her swayamvara

when she was decked with those flowers and was holding a bouquet in her hand to

constantly gaze at them. She guesses that Karna might have observed her that day

and understood that those flowers were her favourite. Draupadi is struck by his

ability to read the untold secrets of her mind and, comparing his behaviour to that

of her husbands, she wonders:

None of the five husbands knew that blue roses were so dear to me. So
many days had passed with Yudhishtir and I as husband and wife. Yet he
was unaware of many secrets of my mind. So many days had I passed
among them; not once had anyone brought a blue rose to give me. Then was
it for me that Karna had brought these roses? (Ray 110-11)

In the comparison that Draupadi draws, her husbands are found wanting. The

epic hardly offers any instance of the inadequacy of the Pandavas in their capacity

as the husbands of Draupadi. The depiction of their marriage is limited only to the

portrayal of the ceremonies without any representation of the emotional equation

that exists between them and Draupadi. In this narrative, however, Ray makes

Draupadi speak about the failings of her husbands who, despite having so many

qualities, prove to be emotionally inadequate as they lack the ability to read her
 485

thoughts. She therefore feels an instant admiration for a man like Karna who, in

spite of being a complete stranger, has understood something which her husbands

never noticed. Her relationship with Karna is depicted as beginning on a note of

empathy which then goes on to evolve into a secret liking. Karna keeps staring at

her as she tries to move forward and the bouquet of blue roses falls near her feet.

She accidentally steps on the flowers and hurts her foot as a thorn pierces her.

Seeing her in pain Karna apologizes, but with a hint of sarcasm. He does not forget

to remind her of the mental pain he had to suffer in the past on account of her.

Karna has been unable to forget his insult and holds Draupadi responsible for it.

The clash of ego and the subtle interplay of admiration and hatred in their

relationship begin to emerge from this point onwards.

Kunti tells Draupadi that Karna is her dharma-putra and his status is

therefore even higher than that of the Pandavas (Ray 116). Draupadi is taken aback

to hear this, even though she recalls the story of Karna‘s life as recounted to her by

Maya. Karna was prohibited from fighting with Arjuna during the trial of arms that

was held at the end of the weapon training programme of the Pandava and the

Kaurava princes. As Arjuna was overwhelming the spectators with the display of

his extraordinary skills in archery, his stunning success was suddenly halted by

Karna‘s open challenge to him. Karna had been a victim of discrimination by

Dronacharya who had taught certain special skills only to Arjuna and to his own

son Ashwatthama but not to Karna, as he did not bear a royal parentage. Knowing

very well that Karna was no less an archer than Arjuna and apprehending that a

duel between the two could have a serious outcome, Drona forestalls it by raising

the question of Karna‘s lineage which does not make him eligible to take on a
 486

royal prince. Although Duryodhana tries to remove this social obstacle by

announcing him to be ruler of the kingdom of Anga, Bheema taunts him by saying

that despite being made a king, royal blood cannot be made to flow in Karna‘s

veins. On coming to know this, Kunti visits Karna and declares that in order to

atone for Bheema‘s arrogance arising from his status as the son of Kunti, she has

decided to adopt Karna as her own son. It is in this capacity that he becomes

Draupadi‘s elder brother-in-law and, on a visit to his place, Kunti asks her to bow

and touch his feet as a mark of respect to seek his blessings. Thinking it proper to

touch Kunti‘s feet first as she is the eldest among those present, Draupadi stoops

but is surprised to find the feet drawn back. To her utter amazement she realises

that instead of Kunti, she was about to touch Karna‘s feet by mistake since both

their feet have a strange resemblance (Ray 127). It is needless to say that this

resemblance is due to the fact that Karna is Kunti‘s own son, but Draupadi is not

yet aware of this. Maya intercedes to defend Draupadi by saying that had Draupadi

touched the feet of Karna first she would have incurred sin. On hearing this, Karna

replies sarcastically, ―‗Royal bride Krishnaa and sin! She is the ideal of

womanhood in Aryavart. Further, it is in Satyayuga and Tretayuga that sin

occurred on touching elder brothers-in-law. In Dvapar even marriage is taking

place with the elder brother-in-law‘‖ (Ray 128). Karna‘s sarcasm hurts Draupadi

deeply, for his words point towards her own polyandrous marriage.

Karna‘s injured manhood at being rejected as a potential suitor in the

swayamvara does not remain confined only to sarcastic remarks. It takes the form

of direct insult when Draupadi, at the behest of Kunti, arrives at the guest house

where Karna stays during the visit of the Kauravas at Indraprastha who have been
 487

invited by the Pandavas on the occasion of the inauguration of the assembly-hall.

Karna refuses to participate in the festivities and prefers to stay alone in the royal

guest house. Kunti sends Draupadi along with Maya and Nitambini with food that

has been cooked by Draupadi herself, since Karna had not eaten anything. On

being offered the food by Maya as Draupadi waits outside, Karna says that he

would rather have some fruits and not cooked food and explains that to eat food

prepared by a woman who has five husbands would result in the loss of his

dharma. He calls Draupadi an unchaste woman and refuses to eat the food cooked

by her citing the scriptural prohibition against it. Karna says:

It is the dharma of a woman to have only one husband. If the first husband
dies, then in some circumstances there is sanction for a second husband. But
at one time to share the beds of five husbands is not sanctioned
anywhere....Such a woman, despite being married, is considered a public
woman. Even to touch water from her hands is to lose one‘s dharma....Your
queen, being Yajnaseni, despite marrying five husbands can be famed as
chaste. But the ordinary woman in such circumstances is termed unchaste.
How can I accept food cooked by her? In these matters I am extremely
particular. (Ray 133)

Despite being a victim of social prejudice and caste bias, Karna cannot rise

above the gender bias of his times. The chastity debate surrounding Draupadi‘s

status as the collective wife of the Pandavas haunts her entire life and even Karna,

whose own experience of social prejudice and caste bias should have emancipated

him, is unable to rise above the gender discrimination of his times. Karna calls

Draupadi an unchaste public woman in the Mahabharata when he gives order to

Duhshashana to disrobe her. Ray makes him utter the same statement twice, once

in this private setting and later in the assembly-hall. The impact of Karna‘s

remarks here does not take the form of a public bashing as it happens in the

context of the assembly-hall. In this case the import of his words is registered in its
 488

shattering effect on Draupadi. As Karna‘s piercing words reach her ears she

exclaims:

On the veranda of the guest house both my feet were frozen. So much insult,
calumny, slander! I would not be able to answer back, for Karna was our
guest and the guest was God. In anger and sorrow my entire being was
shuddering, but the unperturbed body kept standing. (Ray 133)

The epic lacks in the portrayal of this personal context which has been very

skillfully grafted by Ray on to the original narrative, thereby lending Draupadi‘s

story an unparalleled intimacy of representation.

Apart from directing insult and sarcasm at Draupadi for being married to

five men, Ray also depicts Karna as having a soft corner for her. This side of his

personality gets manifested when he rescues Draupadi from getting drowned in the

currents of the river Yamuna. One day, Draupadi, accompanied by Maya and

Nitambini, goes to the banks of the Yamuna to relieve her spirits which have been

oppressed as result of the news of Arjuna‘s marriage to Ulupi, Arya and

Chirangada. As they decide to swim in the river for a diversion, Draupadi suddenly

gets carried away by the river current and is saved by Karna who was taking his

evening bath in the river at that time. Draupadi falls unconscious and feels

embarrassed in Karna‘s presence after regaining her senses. Duhshashana, who

was accompanying Karna at that time, begins to hurl words of insult at Draupadi.

He even suggests that Karna can make her the queen of his kingdom as being the

adopted son of Kunti he too has the right to marry her. On hearing his friend‘s

remarks, Karna intercedes to seek forgiveness on his behalf. Expressing his sincere

apology to her he says, ―‗Devi Draupadi! Karna the great sinner expresses

annoyance at the behaviour of his friend, Duhshasan, and begs forgiveness. It is

my duty to take you to Mother in the chariot. My wife, Rituvati, will also be with
 489

you‘‖ (Ray 183). It is from Rituvati that Draupadi gets to know about Karna‘s high

regard for herself. Rituvati tells her how Draupadi has been the source of his

inspiration and of his vow to prove himself since the day he had been rejected in

the swayamvara. On coming to know this, Draupadi‘s heart softens for Karna and

she finds her change in attitude towards him to be somewhat strange and

inexplicable. On reaching the palace Karna takes leave of her, but not without his

dose of barbed words. He reminds her of that day of the swayamvara on which he

had decided to become the master of his own fate and thanks her for being the

reason behind his resolution to prove his manhood and prowess to the entire world

(Ray 185). Even his modesty and chivalry get stained with the touch of revenge

that never leaves his consciousness. Draupadi never fails to detect the tinge of

wounded pride and hatred that marks even the most apparently innocent of Karna‘s

remarks.

Draupadi‘s feelings for Karna are shown as violating the limits of ―proper‖

behaviour at times. It is not ―proper‖ to harbour any sympathy or liking for a man

other than a husband, especially when he happens to be an enemy of the husband.

The wife is expected to follow the footsteps of her husband in her behaviour

towards other men, depending on the relationship of friendship or hostility that has

been established by her husband vis-à-vis the others. Hence it is expected that

Draupadi too should share the feeling of antagonism that her husbands feel

towards Karna but Ray‘s Draupadi does not conform to the patriarchal prescription

of ―proper‖ wifely conduct and does betray a subtly felt attraction to him despite

his caustic remarks and insults. On the occasion of their leave-taking from

Hastinapur for the thirteen year exile after having lost the dice-match,
 490

Duhshashana asks Draupadi to take off her ornaments in obedience to the king‘s

orders. As Maya takes off her jewels, Nitambini decorates Draupadi with flowers,

and everybody including her husbands and especially Karna are struck by the

extraordinary beauty of her form. On finding Karna‘s gaze fixed at her Draupadi

says:

Suddenly I noticed Karna gazing at me fixedly as though enchanted. Not an

eye was blinking. Flames of perverted lust were not burning in those eyes. A
sweet, compassionate, muted light of affection was visible, lit secretly in a
hesitant eagerness. My heart leaped. Then I cursed myself. He who was the
cause of such gross insults to me—his infatuated stare was thrilling me!
Chheeh! Not a jolt of self-respect remained within me. (Ray 258)

Even as Draupadi cherishes the moment of Karna‘s untold, silent and hesitant

admiration of her, the thoughts of his insult hold her back and she castigates

herself for indulging in such excitement. Dronacharya‘s wife Harita and Karna‘s

wife Rituvati come to bid farewell to Draupadi before she finally leaves

Hastinapur. Rituvati brings ornaments to deck her and tells her that it is Karna‘s

order that Draupadi be adorned with them since it is not proper for his brothers‘

wife to remain attired in such a simple piece of clothing. Therefore he had asked

Rituvati to bring all her ornaments. She however refuses to wear them on the

ground that since Karna had been made the king of Anga by Duryodhana, all his

property belongs to Duryodhana and hence it is not possible for her to accept it.

Karna, standing at a distance hears her denial and becomes dejected at this. He had

hoped that Draupadi might accept his gesture of generosity but to his dismay she

refuses his largesse. Both Draupadi and Karna are shown as equally egoistic in

their reluctance to accept each other‘s favour.

Ray‘s Draupadi is seen as vacillating between sympathy and hate for

Karna. She feels a sense of concern for him when she comes to know about Indra‘s
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cunning stratagem in depriving him of his armour and earrings which were the

very source of his invincibility. Indra, being the divine father of Arjuna, had

assumed the disguise of a Brahmin and approached Karna seeking his earrings and

armour as donation. Being an unhesitant donor widely renowned for his habit of

charity, Karna had forfeited his most precious life-saving war apparel to Indra.

Draupadi, on the one hand, is assured of Arjuna‘s safety but on the other hand she

becomes anxious about the life of Karna (Ray 279-80). On being told about

Karna‘s acquirement of the enemy-destroying missile from Indra, she again begins

to worry about the safety of her husband. Krishna, her sakha, is immediately able

to discern the confusion of thoughts in Draupadi‘s mind as he asks her about the

dilemma regarding her anxiety for both men. Draupadi is visibly embarrassed at

his question and the tug of war that is going on in her mind becomes quite

palpable. Feeling burdened by Karna‘s act of rescuing her from drowning,

Draupadi feels a debt of gratitude to him and wishes that such a difficult situation

had not arisen, for she finds herself torn between her loyalty to her husband and

the need to repay the debt of a man who happens to be her husband‘s worst enemy.

Draupadi expresses her impasse thus:

The burden of debt is painful. To be indebted to an arrogant man is even

more agonising than death. I thought it would have been better if I had died
that day. If the current of my life had merged with the Yamuna‘s current, I
would have been saved so much misery, so many dilemmas, so much
misery. (Ray 281)

This debt, however, is repaid in the course of the narrative when Draupadi gets an

opportunity to save Karna‘s life.

One day during Draupadi‘s stay in the Dvaita forest, a youth of the shabar

tribe informs her of a man who had been bitten by a poisonous snake while hunting
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a tiger and appeals to her to save his life since all attempts had proved fruitless. He

has come running to her to save that man from impending death because Draupadi

possesses the power to control birds and animals. As Draupadi rushes to the spot,

she is astonished to see that the man lying unconscious of the snake-bite is none

other than Karna. The momentary thought that grips her mind tells her that the

death of Karna would put an end to all their anxieties for he is the sworn-enemy of

Arjuna; it would also be a great blow to Duryodhana. But Draupadi cannot listen to

it as she says:

I did not know why, my resolve weakened. The tender woman within me
grew anguished visualising the grief, pain and death of a man. The
compassion of Kunti within me also awoke. Unknowingly, the mother in me
took over. Before me lay a man in the jaws of death. I could save his life.
And he was no ordinary person. He was the supremely handsome and
valiant hero, Karna! Moreover, he had also saved my life! (Ray 326)

Ray‘s Draupadi is seen as feeling a motherly affection for Karna, who happens to

be her husband‘s worst enemy. She shares Kunti‘s dilemma in her inability to

choose between Arjuna and Karna.

Draupadi is shown as rising above the patriarchal rivalries in feeling a sense

of compassion for Karna. This is a clearly visible departure from the epic narrative

where Draupadi is predominantly cast in the image of a revenge-thirsty woman

who harbours no feeling of sympathy for the enemies of the Pandavas, although

her motive in seeking revenge arises from a solely personal cause rather than the

political one shared by her husbands. Ray‘s representation veers from the epic

trajectory in depicting a different aspect of Draupadi in her interaction with one of

the enemy figures. The sight of Karna‘s helplessness makes Draupadi forget her

insult and summon with her chants the snake which then sucks the poison out of

his body. As he slowly regains consciousness and his body begins to stir, she
 493

leaves the spot for fear of having to listen to his ego-laden words of gratitude. As

Karna expresses his sincerest gratitude for the woman who has saved his life,

whom he regards as a mother-figure, Draupadi‘s heart melts. Forgiving all his acts

of injustice she says:

The frank confession of the anguish of Karna‘s heart had touched the
mother in me, had touched every string of my heart. Silently to myself I
forgave all the crimes and injustice Karna had committed against me. Why?
Only a mother could forget all the offences of her child... (Ray 327)

Ray gives a completely new and fresh dimension to the Draupadi-Karna

relationship through this episode.

Draupadi‘s respect for Karna increases even more after another incident. It so

happens that the gandharv king and friend of the Pandavas, Chitrasen, imprisons

Duryodhana for his offence of staring at him and the apsaras when he was

sporting with them in a lake in the Dvaita forest. Duryodhana had come to the

Dvaita forest along with Karna and the soldiers to show off his wealth to the

Pandavas who were spending their exile in that forest. On getting the news of

Duryodhana‘s imprisonment, the Pandavas go to Chitrasen and Arjuna requests

him to release Duryodhana. Having returned to the hermitage, Bheema casts a slur

on Karna for having abandoned his friend Duryodhana at a moment of crisis.

Sahadev however defends Karna by praising his morally righteous conduct of

leaving his friend and disapproving his vulgarity. Hearing this Draupadi says,

―Karna was my inveterate enemy, but my heart bowed with respect for him‖ (Ray

328). Ray‘s Draupadi‘s regard for Karna is expressed on several occasions in this

narrative which helps to portray their relationship in a manner that is much more

amicable than that which is shown in the epic. Their relationship acquires a multi-

dimensionality comprising a curious assortment of the feelings of sympathy,

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compassion, hidden admiration, reverence, revenge, hatred, and egotism – thereby

pushing it beyond the limits of the hostility that has been set and defined by

patriarchal interests.

Ray makes an interesting departure in the depiction of the famous scene of

Kunti‘s meeting with Karna just before the commencement of the battle. Ray

installs Draupadi as an eavesdropper to their conversation. As Karna appears to her

sight on the banks of the river Ganga, having just completed his evening ablutions

in the river, Draupadi is enchanted by his physical appearance:

There brilliantly handsome Karna was chanting the vedas, having completed
the evening ablutions. His superbly formed body appeared remarkably
attractive in the rays of the setting sun, as though pure radiance was
scattering from his entire presence. I was enchanted seeing that pure
appearance. Not for a single moment did I remember that he was our
inveterate enemy, that I was a married woman! (Ray 355)

Ray‘s Draupadi fails to resist getting attracted to Karna and she makes no bones

about this. Her status as a married woman does not ―prevent‖ her from expressing

her liking for another man. The sheer language of her description carries the hint of

a strongly felt appeal that is perhaps not free of sexual overtones. Ray makes her

heroine acknowledge this and suggests that it is quite natural for a married woman

to feel attracted towards another man apart from her husband. Draupadi‘s life in

the epic remains primarily confined to experiences surrounding her status and

identity as the wife of the Pandavas. Ray‘s re-telling liberates her identity from the

one-dimensionality of this status by giving her a new terrain of experience that lies

outside her polyandrous marriage. In her associations with both Krishna and

Karna, Draupadi is shown as drawing a kind of emotional succour that is lacking in

her relationship with any of her husbands. She is more than a pativrata wife, and

through her interactions with both Krishna and Karna one gets a glimpse into the
 495

side of Draupadi‘s personality which is that of the lover, the devotee, the friend,

the silent admirer and above all, the woman displaying a rich variety of her

emotional repertoire. These relationships assist in the full flowering and

development of Draupadi‘s character and help her to assert a more complete and

uniquely developed individuality.

Not only does Draupadi betray soft feelings for Karna but Ray‘s Karna too

is seen as apologetic for having insulted her. During his conversation with Kunti,

Karna asks forgiveness for his offences against Draupadi as a terrible sense of

remorse overwhelms his mind (Ray 356). On a later occasion, when Kunti invites

Karna to celebrate his birthday, she requests Draupadi to make a final plea to him

to dissuade him from participating in the war. Draupadi does as instructed by her

mother-in-law but Karna turns down her request by saying that a heroic death on

the battlefield is far more worthy than refraining from it out of greed for one‘s life.

Karna proclaims that accepting her request would amount to the violation of his

manhood, which does not befit a hero. Draupadi retorts by saying that even Arjuna

is a hero but he has never disobeyed the command of his elders and that in order to

honour the words of his mother he had agreed to the marriage of his wife to his

four brothers. Karna immediately contradicts this by saying that if he had been in

Arjuna‘s place he would have never given in to such an unjust command and

would have left the kingdom along with his wife rather than obey it. He says, ―I do

not consider blindly obeying improper directives as the sign of manhood. This is

the only difference between Arjun and myself‖ (Ray 363). He then begs

forgiveness for his sins against her and there are tears in his eyes. Seeing him in

such a condition Draupadi feels compassion for him and wishes that she could save
 496

his life from impending death. She too apologizes to him for the impudence of her

brother towards him in the swayamvara, due to which he had to suffer life-long

pain and ignominy. The conversation ends with Karna forgiving her in what he

calls the ―final meeting‖ of this birth (Ray 364). With their differences thus

reconciled, Ray‘s Draupadi and Karna seem to have arrived at a point where after

having spent their emotional excess they arrive at a moment of absolute tranquility

unimaginable in the context of war. The men can never hope to reach this point of

composure in a war scenario that has been achieved by these two people who,

despite belonging to opposite camps, have managed to resolve their differences at

the personal level without the intervention of war.

In Divakaruni‘s representation of Draupadi‘s relationship with Krishna in

her novel, we do not find the kind of uncritical reverence that is depicted by

Pratibha Ray. Divakaruni‘s Draupadi shares a special relationship with Krishna but

she is also quite skeptical about the attribution of divine status to him for she finds

him more human than divine. Draupadi first mentions Krishna while talking about

her own dark complexion. She feels that she got along well with him because both

of them had dark complexions (Divakaruni 8). She wonders how he could charm

women despite having such a complexion. In fact his popularity among women

constituted a challenge to the commonly held opinion that dark skin colour is a

drawback. Krishna seemed to be an exception and she had asked him whether she,

with her dark complexion, would be able to change history. To this Krishna had

replied, ―‗A problem becomes a problem only if you believe it to be so. And often

others see you as you see yourself‘‖ (Divakaruni 9). These words had acted as a

catalyst in Draupadi‘s change of perception about herself, leading to the realization

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that she too was beautiful. Krishna is shown as having triggered off the process of

rediscovery of the self in Draupadi by inspiring her to change the way she viewed

herself. When that is accomplished Draupadi gets transformed from a dark-skinned

woman who was looked down upon to a revered beauty. In fact this is how

patriarchy has been successful in perpetuating the stereotypes about women‘s

looks. What Draupadi achieves with the aid of Krishna is the process of unlearning

the traditional view about dark-skinned people, especially women, and substitutes

it with experiential knowledge. Krishna‘s view puts him at a variance from the

typical social attitude that is held by most people, conditioned by patriarchal

definitions regarding women‘s beauty. He speaks in a voice that does not echo the

conventional way of looking at dark-skinned people and thus his advice to

Draupadi constitutes an important lesson in the way women can subvert patriarchal

stereotypes. Draupadi‘s change shows that by refusing to accept male-defined

standards of beauty and by substituting them with one‘s own, women can resist the

system of oppression that is engendered by a one-sided explanation of things.

When the notion that only what is fair is beautiful is countered by the idea that

dark too is beautiful, there occurs a shift in the epistemic hegemony that is

exercised by the rule of patriarchy. It is important to take cognizance of the fact

that this postcolonial feminist rendering which draws attention to the mindset of

racism may have been influenced by the problematization of black skin color by

Afro-American women writers like Toni Morrison in novels like The Bluest Eye.

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi also pulls Krishna down from the divine pedestal

and places him on a human platform, nonetheless acknowledging the fact that there

is something unusual about him. In Draupadi‘s view, Krishna‘s divinity gets

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sublimated into the element of the mysterious. Expressing her incredulity of his

divinity she says:

I didn‘t pay too much attention to the stories, some of which claimed that he
was a god, descended from celestial realms to save the faithful. People
loved to exaggerate, and there was nothing like a dose of the supernatural to
spice up the drudgery of facts. But I admitted this much: there was
something unusual about him. (Divakaruni 10)

On a later occasion too, when the Pandavas consider seeking Krishna‘s advice

regarding the rajasuya sacrifice, Narad speaks of the greatness of Krishna as he is

the incarnation of the God Vishnu, but Draupadi‘s mind is thrown into doubt about

the truth value of his words and she feels that there is no point in agreeing to the

advice of a ―god-man‖ (Divakaruni 158) when it goes against reason. When

Krishna gives his opinion in favour of conducting the sacrifice, Draupadi seems to

have no regard for it since she points out his inconsistency as he had warned

against it on a previous occasion (Divakaruni 158). When Krishna is chosen by

Bhishma as the guest of honour during the ceremony of the rajasuya, Draupadi

does not agree with the choice for she feels that Krishna is a minor king and

therefore not quite worthy of the title (Divakaruni 162). When she sees blood

spattered at his feet after he kills Sishupal she asks ironically, ―Could a god bleed‖

(Divakaruni 165). Although Krishna denies that it is his blood, Draupadi sees that

the index finger of his right hand is bleeding. On the eve of the battle when it is

decided that Arjuna would go to Dwarka to seek Krishna‘s support, Draupadi is

critical of the belief that his support would ensure their victory since she says that

he had not achieved any worthy military success (Divakaruni 234-35). She is also

unable to accept the philosophy of the Gita which is preached by Krishna. Having

heard his enunciation of the philosophical concepts, Draupadi feels that it is

difficult to practice the kind of detachment that he is advocating. She feels that
 499

knowledge which has not been experientially tested cannot be of any use and says,

―Wisdom that isn‘t distilled in our own crucible can‘t help us. Thus, though my

mouth parroted Krishna‘s words, my will swung between remorse and revenge,

and my heart wouldn‘t stop stinging‖ (Divakaruni 264).

Draupadi again expresses her discontent about Krishna when she gets

extremely hurt by Krishna‘s choice of Arjuna instead of her to reveal his cosmic

form. She wonders about the reason behind this and is unable to find any

explanation. In the Mahabharata such questions are never asked. Only a man is

considered worthy to receive the abstruse wisdom of the Gita. Divakaruni‘s

Draupadi posits the possibility of herself as a suitable candidate for receiving the

vision and the knowledge that is revealed and imparted to Arjuna. She asks, ―I

couldn‘t stop myself from wondering over and over, why he considered Arjun

more fitting to receive this vision. What crucial ingredient did I lack that the

mystery of the universe should forever elude me? (Divakaruni 265).

Such instances of the critique and skepticism of Krishna form an important

aspect of Divakaruni‘s re-telling of the epic narrative. Her Draupadi does not hold

an uncritical reverence for Krishna despite sharing a close bonding with him. She

is unabashed in expressing her doubts about the so called divinity that is ascribed

to him. Even when she calls out to Krishna in moments of crisis she does not do so

out of any sense of faith in his miraculous powers. The reason that she gives for

focusing her attention on him during her disrobing is that since they were not

related and he owed her nothing, it was easy for her to think of him as she could

―fix her mind on him without being swept by the anger that arises from
 500

expectation‖ (Divakaruni 193). It is interesting to note that Divakaruni does not

make her Draupadi narrate the very popular instance of the unending supply of

garments to her by Krishna. The omission of this episode constitutes a critical

intervention in the politics of re-telling. Since Divakarni‘s Draupadi does not

accord Krishna the status of divinity, it is but logical that this episode should be

omitted.

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi finds her interactions with Krishna to be enriching

because he brings her news about the external world, about politics and about

various other things which she says ―would be considered improper for the ears of

a young woman‖ (Divakaruni 12). He becomes her medium of engaging with the

world outside the confines of her father‘s palace. She refuses to give this unique

relationship with Krishna any kind of a devotional colouring. Draupadi mentions

that Krishna called her by the female form of his own name i.e. Krishnaa

(Divakaruni 12). She enjoys his company and misses him during her visit to

Hastinapur. She realizes the extent of her regard for him on the occasion of his

killing of Sishupal whom he had beheaded with his disc. As Sishupal raised his

sword to attack him, Draupadi could not control herself out of fear for Krishna‘s

life. She says, ―It struck me like an iron fist, the realization that if Krishna wasn‘t

in my life, nothing mattered. Not my husbands, not my brother, not this palace I

was so proud of, not the look I longed to see in Karna‘s eyes‖ (Divakaruni 165).

The indispensability of Krishna dawns upon Draupadi at this critical moment as

she contemplates a life without him. She had never felt like this before and is

surprised at this sudden turn of thought. As she confesses her feelings to him, he
 501

gazes at her and she feels a kind of love for him that is unique and different from

all other forms of love that she had ever experienced. Draupadi says:

Krishna gazed into my eyes. Was it love I saw in his face? If so, it was
different in kind from all the loves I knew. Or perhaps the loves I‘d known
had been something different, and this alone was love. It reached past my
body, my thoughts, my shaking heart, into some part of me that I hadn‘t
known existed. (Divakaruni 166)

In these lines one finds a reverberation of the bhakti concept of love that is

experienced by the devotee towards the lord. Although Divakaruni‘s Draupadi

never demonstrates any devotee-like feelings towards Krishna, she nonetheless

discovers a new-found love for him which surpasses all that she has ever felt

before. She finds it difficult to accept his death as a terrible vacuum is left behind

(Divakaruni 336).

Unlike in the epic where Draupadi falls on the mountains on her last great

journey and dies, Divakaruni‘s re-telling reconstructs those moments into a

reverie-like experience where she makes her recall the various incidents of her life.

She seems to have a vision of Krishna and she can hear his voice as she lies there.

She remembers all those occasions when her mind had been lifted out of despair

by Krishna‘s sheer presence, his words and his touch. She remembers the day on

which he was leaving for Dwarka, when she had offered him a drink of coconut

water at the gates of Hastinapur and complained that he did not come to visit them

as often as he used to when they were in the forest, and he had assured her that it

would not be long before his next visit (Divakaruni 353-54); how she was trying to

catch a butterfly in the courtyard at her father‘s palace when she was a child and

having failed to do so she had started crying and how it was Krishna who had held

out his hand and the butterfly had settled on it (Divakaruni 354); how she had
 502

prepared a meal for him and he had teased her saying that it was too salty

(Divakaruni 354); how she had shown him her garden and lamented that it would

have been the most beautiful had she been able to plant a parijat tree but was

unable to find any and how he had offered her a seed of the plant by opening his

fist (Divakaruni 354); how he had allayed her fears about living with her husbands

who were complete strangers by holding her hand at the moment of her departure

to Hastinapur after her marriage (Divakaruni 355); and how she had spotted him

among the group of horsemen from the balcony in Queen Sudeshna‘s palace and

he had cast a glance upon her to assure her that he had not forgotten her

(Divakaruni 356). Having recalled all these blissful moments Draupadi realizes the

true nature of Krishna‘s love that is free of any expectation, hurt or pride.

Summing up her thoughts she says:

It‘s only now I see that he‘d always been there, sometimes in the forefront,
sometimes blended into the shadows of my life....He loved me even when I
behaved in a most unlovable manner. And his love was totally different
from every other love in my life. Unlike them, it didn‘t expect me to behave
in a certain way. It didn‘t change into displeasure or anger or even hatred if
I didn‘t comply. It healed me. If what I felt for Karna was a singeing fire,
Krishna‘s love was a balm, moonlight over a parched landscape. How blind
I‘d been not to recognize it for the precious gift it was! (Divakaruni 356)

As the moment of her death finally arrives, Draupadi feels Krishna touching her

hands and the bond that had chained her to life seemed to snap. Divakaruni‘s

portrayal of the Draupadi-Krishna relationship goes beyond the limits of the epic

in its representation of the mixed attitudes of friendship, love, skepticism, a sense

of dependence and above all, a touch of irreverence that does not, however, smack

of disrespect. This relationship provides a greater space and context for evaluating

Draupadi‘s character.
 503

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni goes a step further than Pratibha Ray in

delineating a very strong and special relationship between Draupadi and Karna

which goes beyond the limits of the epic. The first time Draupadi is shown as

getting acquainted with Karna is through a portrait that an artist has painted of him

and which is put on display along with the pictures of other heroes who are going

to be the suitors of Draupadi in the forthcoming swayamvara. Her first encounter

is thus not with the real Karna but with an artistic representation of him. This is an

interesting departure from the epic where Draupadi first sees Karna in the

swayamvara hall and raises her opposition to his claim as a suitor. The note of

antagonism that accompanies her first encounter with Karna in the Mahabharata

has been replaced in the novel by an instantaneous attraction that grips her. On

catching a glimpse of his portrait she becomes impatient to know his identity and

is informed by the artist that he is Karna. Her passion for this man seems to have

ignited from this moment onwards for she says:

His eyes were filled with an ancient sadness. They pulled me into them. My
impatience evaporated. I no longer cared to see Arjun‘s portrait. Instead, I
wanted to know how those eyes would look if the man smiled. Absurdly, I
wanted to be the reason for his smile. (Divakaruni 69)

Draupadi is quite bewildered by Krishna‘s reproach to the artist as the latter

speaks in praise of Karna and scolds him for calling Karna a prince and showing

his portrait to Draupadi. Draupadi is astonished at his vehement reaction when he

says that Karna is no prince. She tries to defend Karna by saying that he is the ruler

of Anga but Krishna retorts by saying that he is just the son of a chariot-driver.

Draupadi is, however, unconvinced by Krishna‘s statement and thinks that there is

more to Karna than what meets the eye. She resolves to know about his secret from

her brother which he does tell her at a later point. Dhristadyumna shares the story

of Karna‘s accursed life with Draupadi and tells her about the two curses that he
 504

had received—one from his teacher Parashuram and another from a Brahmin.

Parashuram had cursed him that he would not be able to recall the mantra to get

the Brahmastra when he would need it the most and the Brahmin had given him

the curse that he would be killed at a moment when he would be completely

helpless and unarmed. Hearing about the sad story of Karna‘s life Draupadi feels

drawn towards him and wishes a happier life for him (Divakaruni 87).

Dhristadyumna warns her that since Karna is cursed, anybody who would get

associated with him would have to bear the brunt of these curses and, moreover,

Draupadi‘s proclaimed destiny as the changer of history forbids her marriage to

him. Dhristadyumna‘s greater concern is the preservation of family honour and he

therefore asks Draupadi to cooperate with them to prevent Karna from staking his

claim as a suitor for the hand of Draupadi in the swayamvara. The conflict

between the public and the private becomes conspicuous as Draupadi confesses

that she does not share her brother‘s concern for family honour. Instead she gives

primacy to her private feelings for Karna as she says, ―I didn‘t want to argue with

Dhri, but I wasn‘t ready to turn against Karna, not even for the sake of family

honour‖ (Divakaruni 85). The larger questions of family honour and racial history

become the exclusive concerns of men who often make women their pawns and

mediums for achieving their political ends. Divakaruni‘s Draupadi resists getting

reduced to such a status by asserting her strongly-felt emotions for Karna—an

alliance with whom can jeopardise the political equation between the Pandavas and

the Kauravas. Her personal liking for a man who happens to be the enemy of the

men who are associated with her in their capacity as father, brother, husbands and

friend can amount to an act of subversion.

 505

Divakaruni gives an interesting twist to the swayamvara episode. During

the swayamvara, as Dhri points out the important suitors who had arrived to

participate in the contest, Draupadi becomes anxious to find out whether Karna

had come or not. As she spots him amidst the crowd, sitting next to Duryodhana,

she feels the urge to touch him and says, ―If Arjun wasn‘t here, what right did

Krishna and Dhri have to insist that I not choose Karna‖ (Divakaruni 93). She

keeps reiterating the prospect of choosing him as her husband instead of Arjuna—

something which profoundly asserts the nature of her feelings towards him. The

element of rebellion implicit in her desire to marry him, by defying the injunctions

of her brother and Krishna, point towards the way in which it can act as a

stratagem for confronting patriarchal authority. Divakaruni presents her Draupadi

as playing with the idea of a potential marriage with Karna in order to highlight the

rebellious and independent side of her personality which refuses to be controlled

by the political intentions of the men around her.

Divakaruni shows Draupadi as departing quite radically from the socio-

historical limits of the discourse of caste as prevalent in the times of the epic by

harbouring a different opinion on the issue of Karna‘s participation in the

swayamvara ceremony. Interrupting Draupadi‘s narration, we get to hear the voice

of a third person narrator (Divakaruni 93-95) who pitches in to present us with a

brief summary of the episode of Karna‘s disqualification from the swayamvara on

account of his lower birth and the famous scene of Draupadi‘s denial of his claim

to be her suitor. Coming immediately after this is the disapproving voice of

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi, offering a very different account of her behaviour towards

Karna. She explains that when her brother raised an objection to Karna‘s
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participation in the contest on the ground of his belonging to a lower caste, Karna

had issued a challenge to him, in response to which she had said those words to

Karna out of sheer affection for her brother and with the intention of saving him

from getting killed at the hands of a great archer. Draupadi says:

Later, some would commend me for being brave enough to put the upstart
son of a chariot driver in his place. Others would declare me arrogant.
Caste-obsessed. They‘d say I deserved every punishment I received. Still
others would admire me for being true to dharma, whatever that means. But
I did it only because I couldn‘t bear to see my brother die. (Divakaruni 96)

This clarification radically alters the conventional reading of this episode where

Draupadi‘s insult is construed as the determining point in sowing the seeds of

hatred and revenge in Karna‘s mind. The motivation, as Draupadi here suggests,

behind her act of affront that appears to be so obnoxious has nothing to do with the

patriarchal anxieties of caste. It derives from a deeply personal regard for her dear

brother. This alternative account helps to shift the reason behind Draupadi‘s insult

to Karna from that of an impersonal concern with caste to that of a personal love

for one‘s brother.

Later on, Draupadi speaks of her suppressed desire for Karna, even though

her Dhai Ma thinks that she likes the portrait of Arjuna best among all the

Pandavas. Draupadi says, ―Did she guess how my heart balked inside me like a

horse that refuses to follow its rider‘s commands? How I longed to speak to her of

that other, forbidden name: Karna‖ (Divakaruni 74). It is from Dhai Ma that

Draupadi comes to know the legend surrounding the birth of Karna and how he

was discovered floating on the river Ganga by the chariot-driver Adhiratha. He

was born with the signs of divine blessing, i.e. the armour and earrings, on his

body. Draupadi feels that there is a similarity in their situations for she says that
 507

both of them were victims of ―parental rejection‖ (Divakaruni 78) but she does

acknowledge that his suffering was far greater than hers. Feeling a sense of

sympathy for the mother who had been compelled to abandon her child and for

Karna as well, Draupadi contemplates that both mother and son might be thinking

of each other every single day and wishes that things had turned out to be different

(Divakaruni 79).

Later, during one of her visits to Hastinapur, Draupadi speaks of her failure

in getting rid of the thought of Karna. On reaching the royal palace of Hastinapur

at the invitation of Bhishma, Draupadi fails to find any solace amidst the grand

rooms. She finds the solitude of her father‘s palace preferable to this place

(Divakaruni 127). Grandeur does not always guarantee mental peace and Draupadi

finds herself to be lonely despite the social visits and gatherings in which she

participates. Her alienation from her surroundings points to a greater

dissatisfaction that lurks within her soul – which cannot be compensated by her

newly acquired status as the royal daughter-in-law. Draupadi becomes increasingly

impatient to meet Karna. Her mind is so obsessed with him that she longs to see

him and, unable to find him anywhere, says:

I confess: in spite of the vows I made each day to forget Karna, to be a

better wife to the Pandavas, I longed to see him again. Each time I entered a
room, I glanced up under my veil—I couldn‘t stop myself—hoping he was
there....I eavesdropped shamelessly on the maids, trying to discover his
whereabouts. (Divakaruni 130)

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi makes no attempt to present herself in the image of

the ideal wife who does not entertain the thought of any man other than her

husband. Instead, she goes a step ahead in acknowledging her strong and

irresistible feelings for Karna whom she refers to as the ―dark flower that refused
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to be uprooted from my heart‖ (Divakaruni 130). She admits to the sense of the

forbidden that accompanies her feelings towards him but is unable to banish his

thoughts from her mind. At a later point in the narrative Draupadi confesses that

she had never given herself fully to any of her husbands. The reason, she says, was

that ―none of them [her husbands] had the power to agitate me the way the mere

memory of Karna did‖ (Divakaruni 213). Coming from the mouth of a woman

who is traditionally revered as one of the panch-kanyas known for their exemplary

devotion to their husbands, this kind of a statement seriously undermines some of

the assumptions of the epic narrative. The representation of Draupadi as a woman

who does not harbour the emotions expected of an ―ideal‖ wife towards her

husbands, and instead yearns for Karna, goes a long way in revising the

interpretation of her character in the popular imagination. Divakaruni‘s Draupadi

comes out as a woman who has the courage to say what she feels without the fear

of calumny. She does not make any attempt to hide her feelings for Karna. This

kind of insight into the recesses of her mind is unavailable in the epic where the

narration of external action takes precedence over the delineation of inner

thoughts. The pangs of Draupadi‘s mind are better felt as she becomes the

articulator of her own predicament in Divakaruni‘s re-telling.

When Arjuna tells Draupadi that he will go to the mountains to do penance

in order to appease Shiva and acquire the divine weapon that he would use to kill

Karna, she faints out of fear for Karna‘s life. Her husbands think that it is her

anxiety for Arjuna that makes her lose her consciousness but they hardly have any

inkling of the fact that it is the thought of Karna‘s death that is the reason for her

swooning. Draupadi herself is surprised at her reaction since Karna has betrayed
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her hero-worship and insulted her in the assembly-hall (Divakaruni 217-18). She is

unable to explain the reason behind her sympathy for a man who had been so cruel

to her.

On more than one occasion Draupadi judges Arjuna‘s conduct by

comparing him with Karna and putting the latter on a higher pedestal than her

husband. As she undergoes physical pain while taking the difficult walk through

the forest, Arjuna does not even stop to take care of her as she stumbles and a

voice within her says, ―...Karna would never have let you suffer like this‖

(Divakaruni 99). While spending the first night in the cottage of the Pandavas, she

is unable to sleep in the uncomfortable circumstances and blames Arjuna for

treating her in such a manner. The thought of Karna comes to her mind for she

thinks that he would never have landed her in such a miserable situation. Angered

by the treatment meted out to her by Kunti, and particularly dissatisfied with

Arjuna‘s neglect of the duties befitting a husband, Draupadi imagines the prospect

of things being completely different if Karna had been her husband:

I was uncomfortable, miserable, disillusioned—and most of all, angry with

Arjun. I‘d expected him to be my champion. It was the least he could have
done after plucking me from my home. When inside me a voice whispered,
Karna would never have let you down like this, I did not hush it.
(Divakaruni 109)

Divakaruni‘s Draupadi thus contemplates on the possible consequences of the

averted marital alliance with Karna and nurtures her secret admiration of him. The

purpose served by such mental comparison is to establish Karna‘s superiority to

Arjuna in his capacity as a potential husband in the event that he had wedded

Draupadi and also to emphasize the sense of regret that Draupadi feels at every

point of her conjugal life for having missed the opportunity of marrying him.
 510

Divakaruni adds another dimension to their relationship by showing

Draupadi as extremely eager to appease Karna and make amends for her past

insult. When she comes to know that he would be arriving along with

Duryodhana‘s guests who had been invited to Indraprastha on the occasion of the

rajasuya yagna, she becomes eager to come to amicable terms with him. Her

hopes are however frustrated as Karna maintains a poise of indifference towards

her and avoids any personal interaction. Divakaruni is able to make the tension

underlying their strained relationship palpable and convincing. It is interesting to

note that when the Pandavas are busy with the arrangements of the sacrifice that is

supposed to establish and validate Yudhishthira‘s status as the most powerful ruler,

Draupadi is shown as equally active setting her personal equation with Karna

straight. She is hardly concerned about the political intentions of her husbands and

is more attentive towards the matters of her heart. The conflict between the

political and the personal is a recurring motif in the narrative. Draupadi harbours

special feelings for Karna which do not conform to the political ambitions of her

husbands and she is least bothered about it. As Karna spends time in the magical

palace, Draupadi laments the fact that the attractions of the palace fail to change

his cold attitude. To make matters worse, Draupadi earns his wrath when she

smiles at Duryodhana‘s fall into the illusory pool. She feels his absence after the

departure of the Kauravas as she casts a longing glance at those places which

Karna had frequented in the palace and says, ―My eyes would go to a bench where

Karna had sat, a path where he had walked, and once again I would be stung that

my palace had failed to impress him‖ (Divakaruni 175).

 511

On receiving a special invitation from Duryodhana to visit Hastinapur,

Draupadi is elated to think it will offer her an opportunity of meeting Karna.

Hoping to appear her best in the presence of Karna she decides to take her best

clothing and jewellery. On reaching Hastinapur, Draupadi becomes impatient to

meet Karna. On hearing his praise from Duryodhana‘a wife Bhanumati, she

becomes a bit jealous. When she gets the news that Duryodhana had arranged a

family banquet in honour of his friend Karna‘s return from Anga, Draupadi gets

extremely excited and says:

I was at once excited and agitated by this news and spent much time trying
to decide what to wear. Even my most exquisite sari seemed paltry, old-
fashioned. Finally I ordered the royal weavers back at Indraprastha to design
a new outfit that would be unlike anything they‘d made before, outstanding
enough to make it unforgettable. (Divakaruni 185)

The urge to appear at her best in front of Karna is expressive of the nature of

Draupadi‘s feelings towards him, which border on romantic expectation. Her

thoughts, however, change as she sees Bhanumati making the same kind of fuss

over the choice of her clothes to appear before Karna. She is suddenly struck by

the thought that her desire is ―illegitimate‖ since she is the wife of five husbands

and the scriptures strictly prohibit the thought of any other man apart from one‘s

husband in case of a married woman (Divakaruni 185). In a bid to chastise herself

for this ―transgression,‖ Draupadi decides to wear a plain white sari instead of

anything gorgeous. As she arrives in the banquet hall dressed in her simple attire,

all eyes turn towards her for the simple sari had created the effect which the most

expensive of clothes could never have achieved. Karna too was dressed in white,

and he comes forward to greet her. But under the prying eyes of Kunti Draupadi is

unable to speak with him in a frank manner. As she leaves she sees the ―dark

anger‖ (Divakaruni 187) that is left on Karna‘s face. Draupadi loses the hard-found
 512

opportunity of making amends and regrets her fate for having let the moment go.

She laments saying, ―My heart twisted. I‘d ruined everything! And yet what else

could I have done? What ill star shone on us that made wrong things happen—

things I never intended—every time we met? Now he‘d never forgive me‖

(Divakaruni 187).

Draupadi‘s feelings for Karna, however, receive a cruel blow as she gets

severely disappointed with his conduct during the disrobing. The epic does not

present Draupadi‘s thoughts about Karna in this scene. Divakaruni‘s Draupadi had

hoped that he might save her but when he orders Duhshashana to take off her

clothes all her hopes are dashed to the ground. The anger that she feels against her

husbands and the elders is here directed at once towards Karna. He seems to have

betrayed her like no one else could have done. With all her resentment Draupadi

says, ―Of one thing I was glad. What happened today had stripped away all

ambiguities from my heart. Never again would I long for his attention‖

(Divakaruni 194). But I have already mentioned how she is unable to stick to her

resolution. Draupadi‘s sympathy for Karna does not cease with this turn of events

and she again grows anxious for his safety in the war.

Divakaruni‘s innovative style of narration leads to the incorporation of

certain incidents of the epic as dreams that Draupadi has from time to time. In one

such dream, she sees the famous meeting between Kunti and Karna where Kunti

had disclosed the fact she was his mother. Draupadi becomes perturbed after this

dream because she is yet to know the secret, but she acknowledges that the dream

significantly alters her enraged feelings towards Karna. Her anger melts as she
 513

admits, ―...I was no longer angry with Karna....I still wanted the war....But when I

thought of Karna, I only remembered the moment at my swayamvar when I‘d

spoken the words that turned a bright-faced youth into a bitter man‖ (Divakaruni

243). Rather than portraying Draupadi merely as a revenge-thirsty woman,

Divakaruni tries to explore the psychological layers of her character. The

fluctuations in Draupadi‘s responses and feelings towards Karna are an evidence of

the tumultuous nature of her emotions which are torn by the conflicting loyalties

towards her private self and her public duties. She feels love, pity, hatred,

sympathy, anger and compassion all at the same time for this man—an emotional

range that is unique and conspicuously absent in her dealings with her husbands.

The Pandavas serve in her life as figures of authority with whom she is bound by

the ties of wifely loyalty and devotion. But Divakaruni‘s representation of

Draupadi‘s feelings for Karna speaks a lot about the way in which he occupies a

more important space in her emotional universe compared to her husbands.

Divakaruni makes Karna confess his love for Draupadi in a private

conversation with Bhishma which she happens to overhear. Draupadi arrives at

Bhishma‘s tent at night in order to ask him the reason for his silence during her

humiliation in the assembly of the Kauravas. It is in the middle of the war that she

goes to meet Bhishma, but as she enters she finds Karna kneeling by his side and,

fearing detection, she hides to listen to their conversation to quench her curiosity.

It is then that she comes to know that Karna is Kunti‘s son and the meaning of her

dream becomes clear to her. Karna‘s woes about a life full of suffering and his hurt

pride wrench Draupadi‘s heart as she says, ―...it was a new Karna I was hearing, so

anguished, so different from the man who prided himself on his self-control. In
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that moment I forgave him everything he‘d done while in the grip of his sorrow‖

(Divakaruni 274). Karna blames Kunti for having concealed the truth from him for

so long. This facet of Karna‘s personality is something that Draupadi sees for the

first time, and it constitutes a significant departure from the epic narrative. As

Karna continues in a confessional tone, he admits having felt regret for his

abominable conduct in the assembly-hall when he had given orders to

Duhashashana to disrobe Draupadi. The greatest of his confessions comes at last

when he blurts his heart out to Bhishma, saying that he had secretly desired

Draupadi all his life. What is even more troubling is that he continues to desire her

even after coming to know the truth about his birth. He reveals that he had felt

angry at Duhshashana for stripping Draupadi even though he himself had

commanded him to do so. He says that he had slept on the floor during the period

of her twelve year exile in the forest, thinking of the discomforts that she might be

facing. He had even thought of offering her the proposal of becoming his queen

although he never actually got round to doing it. And when Kunti had come to him

with the offer of joining on the side of the Pandavas in the battle, proposing that

Draupadi would then become his wife, Karna says that he was so tempted by the

suggestion that he was ready to compromise everything for her. Recalling that

moment of weakness Karna says:

When Kunti told me that if I joined her sons, I‘d be king instead of
Yudhishtir, I wasn‘t tempted. But when she used her final weapon, when
she said that as her son I, too, would become Panchaali‘s husband—I was
ready to give up my reputation, my honour, everything! I had to use all my
willpower to remain silent! (Divakaruni 276-77)

Draupadi‘s response is mixed and even contradictory as she hears Karna‘s

confession of his desire for her. On the one hand, she feels a surge of bitterness

towards Kunti for having offered her in bargain to Karna; on the other hand, she is
 515

happy to know about Karna‘s long-felt passion for her. She says, ―Wasn‘t this

what I‘d secretly wanted all my life, to know that he was attracted to me, even

against his will? That beneath his scornful exterior he held me in such tenderness?‖

(Divakaruni 277). This revelation is not present in the epic. Divakaruni interpolates

this into her re-telling in order to initiate a re-evaluation of the character of Karna

and to place his ill-treatment of Draupadi in a different light by offering him an

opportunity to explain his conduct. Both Karna and Draupadi have suffered

marginalisation in their personal lives and in the way they have been represented

within the epic. Divakaruni chooses to bring these two characters to the center of

her narrative and to develop a relationship between them. By doing so, she

liberates her Draupadi from the constraints of the conjugal arrangement with her

five husbands to explore that side of her personality which is unleashed in her

desired relationship with a man whom she adores outside of her marriage. We get

to see Draupadi as the lover, an aspect that is never allowed to develop to its full

potential within the epic. She is shown as nursing a great passion for Arjuna but

little is ever suggested about their identity as lovers. The burden of the

polyandrous marriage never foregrounds the lover within Draupadi or Arjuna.

Divakaruni‘s narrative unlocks this potential within Draupadi‘s character and

allows it to develop to its full.

As Draupadi narrates the events of the battlefield with the aid of her divine

vision, she reports the unfair killing of Abhimanyu in the discus-formation. She

also thinks of the impending death of Karna. Having spent his most powerful

weapon to kill Ghatotkacha, he was now vulnerable to Arjuna. Moreover, he had

donated his invincible armour to Indra who had come in the disguise of a Brahmin
 516

to beg it from him. Indra, being Arjuna‘s divine father, had decided upon that ploy

to deprive his son‘s sworn enemy of his protective charm. Struck by a sense of

terrible remorse, Draupadi blames herself for having pushed the Pandavas to war

and for having tarnished the reputation of Karna whose involvement in the unjust

killing of Abhimanyu would earn him a bad name. She laments being the cause of

the war and her heart cries out for an otherwise impeccable man who she feels had

become corrupt as a result of the war. She asks, ―What subversive power did war

possess that it could turn even such a man into a butcher?‖ (Divakaruni 291). It is

through the narration of Karna‘s role as the commander of the Kauravas that

Draupadi presents the human face of the war. Rather than focusing on his military

skills she chooses to focus on his sense of justness and compassion as a warrior.

She says that he had regretted his role in the death of the defenseless Abhimanyu

and had spared all the Pandavas excepting Arjuna when he had occasion to kill

them. Draupadi‘s narration offers us an insight into the psychological motivations

of Karna as a warrior. He is also reported to be extremely popular among the

soldiers.

Divakaruni gives a twist to the narrative by departing from the epic in her

representation of Draupadi‘s response to the death of Karna. It is known that Karna

was unfairly killed by Arjuna at a moment when the wheels of his chariot had got

stuck in the earth and Krishna had goaded Arjuna to attack him. As a result of the

twin curses of Parasuram and the Brahmin, Karna was unable to recall the

incantation to procure a weapon and he was killed in a moment when he was

completely defenseless. His death evokes mixed responses from Draupadi—on the

one hand she feels a sense of relief as the long-awaited duel between him and
 517

Arjuna was over, leaving her husband safe and the outcome of the battle just a

foregone conclusion; but on the other hand there remained a part within her that

regretted the death of Karna. It is this facet of Draupadi‘s character that states her

alternative set of concerns which do not conform to the political agenda of her

husbands and makes her an emotional rebel. It is this trait that remains hidden from

everyone, including her husbands from whom she feels emotionally alienated. Her

feelings for Karna assume a subversive dimension by running contrary to the

wishes of her husbands. She does not share their animosity towards him.

Reminiscing after his death, Draupadi says:

But the part that was a girl at a swayamvar facing a young man whose eyes
grew dark with pain at her words, the part that didn‘t owe loyalty to the
Pandavas yet, couldn‘t hold back her tears. Regret racked me. How might
Karna‘s life have turned out if I‘d allowed him to compete that day? If he‘d
won? The longing that I‘d suppressed all these years crashed over me like a
wave, bringing me to my knees. He‘d died believing that I hated him. How I
wished it could have been otherwise! (Divakaruni 297)

As Karna‘s dead body lies in the battlefield, Draupadi recalls Vyasa‘s

account in the Mahabharata where he had said that a divine glow emanated from

his body, which circled the field in search of someone before it renounced the

world.515 It is at this point that Divakaruni‘s Draupadi intervenes to append the

main narrative. She speaks of the way in which the glow had paused over a

weeping woman on a nearby hill before coming to her where ―it grew into a great

radiance‖ (Divakaruni 298). The kind of mystic experience that she undergoes

makes her feel that Karna perhaps knew her secret longing for him. She says,

―When the glow faded, I was left with a strange comfort, a belief that this was not

the end of Karna‘s story‖ (Divakaruni 298). The proceedings of the war do not

interest Draupadi after Karna dies, for she says that the only reason she had
515
Then from that body of the fallen Karna a light passing through the welkin penetrated the sun.
This wonderful sight, O king, was beheld by the human warriors after the fall of Karna. (Mbh,
Ganguli, Karna Parva, Section XCI, Vol 7: 254)
 518

accepted the divine vision from Vyasa was that she wanted to watch Karna in a

way she never could in real life. Her understanding of his nature makes her feel

satiated, and the purpose of her intention in watching the war having been fulfilled,

she does not feel any further need to continue with it. It is important to remember

that in Divakaruni‘s re-telling, Draupadi‘s interest in the war does not emanate

from her desire to seek revenge. Though she had expressed such a desire initially,

it has waned with the passage of time. The bloodbath fills Draupadi with a sense of

disgust and regret as she says on the occasion of Karna‘s death, ―What did I feel,

seeing Karna fall?...Part of me was glad...Part realized that we were now very

close to achieving the vengeance I‘d craved—though it gave me no satisfaction‖

(Divakaruni 297). The war loses its significance for her as the very motive of

revenge becomes trivial. The novel charts the changes that occur in Draupadi‘s

perception vis-à-vis the war. Her attitude of revenge is replaced by a sense of

tranquility as the war reaches its end.

As Draupadi falls on the last journey she thinks about the callousness of her

husbands, especially Yudhishthira who was trying to stop Bheema from coming to

help her. When she overhears Yudhishthira‘s rhetoric of righteousness, Draupadi is

overcome with a sense of anger and thinks that if it had been Karna, he would have

never let her die alone. He would have stayed back and remained by her side

(Divakaruni 347). Explaining the reason behind Draupadi‘s fall to Bheema,

Yudhishthira says that she had fallen because she loved Arjuna the most, despite

being married to all the five Pandavas. Divakaruni gives a twist to her re-telling at

this point where she makes her Draupadi say that Yudhishthira had deliberately

concealed the truth by taking Arjuna‘s name instead of Karna. Yudhishthira knew
 519

that she liked Karna but he had chosen to lie in order to preserve her reputation.

Draupadi thanks him saying, ―He had spared me. He‘d chosen kindness over truth

and uttered, for the sake of my reputation, the second lie of his lifetime!‖

(Divakaruni 348). The image of Yudhishthira as being indifferent to Draupadi gets

revised as she realizes his love for her at the moment of death.

Divakaruni chooses to unite Draupadi and Karna through her re-telling

where she shows Draupadi reaching out for his hand in her dying vision, as the

mystical experience of passing from this world to the other drowns her in a

recollection of her life. She sees Karna bending forward and holding out his hand

towards her. Realizing that the social barriers which had prohibited her from

acknowledging her love for him were no longer operative, Draupadi reaches out to

him without any fear. Having reached the end of a life full of vicissitudes, she

experiences the ultimate bliss at the very moment of her death when she comes to

the full realization of her identity as Panchaali—the name that was given to her by

the sage Vyasa (Divakaruni 41)—through her much-longed for union with Karna.

Divakaruni‘s portrayal of Draupadi‘s relationship with Karna thus exceeds

the limits of the parent narrative and infuses a new vitality in the emotional life of

the heroine. The inner turmoil of Divakaruni‘s Draupadi comes alive through the

delineation of her rather tortuous relationship with Karna. It is through the nuances

of Draupadi‘s relationship with Karna that the Pandavas are exposed as either

emotionally inadequate or as emotionally unavailable. Karna‘s image as the

wronged hero also gets rewritten in this re-telling of Draupadi‘s narrative.

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CONCLUDING REMARKS

It thus becomes clear that the difference of Draupadi, which has been

examined across a host of parameters in the above discussion, attests to her

unconventional status. Starting from her birth, Draupadi‘s life is a journey through

various unusual occurrences which add a unique dimension to her character. The

objective depiction of her birth, beauty and marriage in the epic gets significantly

revised in the re-tellings as the authors attempt to incorporate a subjective context.

Draupadi is shown as being either dissatisfied with the unusual circumstances of

her birth since she knows that she is going to be used for fulfilling the patriarchal

goal of revenge (as in Pratibha Ray‘s novel), or Draupadi is shown as feeling

empowered by the dominant role that she is going to play in the course of history

(as in Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni‘s re-telling). The dark color of Draupadi‘s skin

is also subject to critical debates surrounding women‘s beauty. The intelligence of

Draupadi, which is extolled in the epic, is given a special dimension in some of the

re-tellings where she is depicted as a poet and as an avid reader. Draupadi‘s

intelligence does not remain confined to the utterance of scholarly statements and

philosophical arguments but takes a completely different turn in Mahasweta Devi‘s

story where she is shown as being able to put to shame the practices of patriarchal

violence. Draupadi‘s intelligence thus acquires multiple shades as her narrative

gets re-told by these authors. The most interesting aspect of her difference is

foregrounded in her relationship with Krishna and Karna. Both Pratibha Ray and

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni deal with these two relationships at great length in

their respective novels. Draupadi is shown as adopting the stance of a devotee and

friend in her relation with Krishna in Ray‘s novel, whereas Divakaruni depicts her

as skeptical of Krishna‘s divinity despite being his good friend. Draupadi‘s

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relationship with Karna, as depicted by both these authors, serves to revise the

established notion of her special love for Arjuna. Karna appears to be involved in a

subtle game of love and hatred with Draupadi in both the novels, thereby adding a

new dimension to her emotional life.