Subhadra speaks

Calm before the Storm

Ghatothkach stayed with us for three days, fascinating everyone with his skills of sorcery, exchanging knowledge of warfare with Abhimanyu and his cousins, and whiling away the nights  in carefree revelry.

I did try to find the identity of Abhimanyu's mystery girl, but he said, "It belongs in the past now. She deserves better than a stateless prince, without a cent of land to call his own." Seeing my face darken, he hastened to add, "She doesn't think that way, Mother. This was my own decision. She never badmouthed Uncle or Father. She was not responsible for that fight either, for she tried her best to prevent it."

He had a point. Why look back when the future, with all her hopes and promises, loomed on the horizon?

As the year drew to a close, all of us at Dwaraka awaited for news of the Pandavas. And what a smashing return they made from their exile, defeating their cousins' petty attempt to draw them out with flair, and humbling their patron king with their show of strength. Bards were already singing songs of how a boy prince and a eunuch had defeated the entire army of Hastinapur before Yudishthira's message arrived to Krishna, inviting us to Upaplavya. But it was Arjuna's message to Krishna, Balarama and my father that set the palace in a flutter.

"I do not want to marry now, Uncle. I want to prove myself as a warrior first." Abhimanyu stated, ignoring his sneering cousins with grace. "I will not have much time to dedicate to a wife at this point, and it wouldn't be fair on the girl."

These protests were overridden with ease and soon the day came to depart from Dwaraka.

This was far from the sorrowful event I had envisioned, for we were a wedding party now. Some of my family came with me, and I knew I would see the rest within a week.

Upaplavya was a quaint, old city, with lush gardens and colorful markets that would have delighted my wards back in Dwaraka. A grand party awaited us on the steps of the palace. Curiously enough, the Pandavas were ranged on either side of Draupadi in the order of their age. Arjuna stood to her left.

Apart from the flecks of grey in his long hair, he did not seem to have aged at all, though he had grown leaner and wiry. His arms as well as face were completely devoid of hair, and his fingernails were flecked with paint, the same color that I wore. His eyes clung to the bright smile that masked his face, defiantly refusing to let me in. He raised both my hands to his lips, and these, I recognized, as well as the feather-soft, tender way in which they brushed against my skin. Now, I felt the mild tremor in his hands, espied the dark corners of his smile, and the angsty query in his eyes as they searched among the four Yadava boys who stood by the side, looking like brothers from the same mother.

I only had to look at my boy, and he took care of the rest, stepping forward and pulling his father into an affectionate embrace. They hugged and hugged and hugged, and I thought my heart would burst.

Duryodhana's envoys arrived that very evening, with a message for Yudhisthira that owing to Arjuna's actions, their exile would have to be prolonged. While the council met everyday, we women were engaged in the more frivolous task of organizing the wedding ceremony. No sooner had we begun the first task of choosing the bride's silks than I realized that my sister wife and my new sister-in-law had no love lost between them.

"These silks are no good." Draupadi's tone was dismissive. "Send in the next merchant."

"The last merchant." I heard the suppressed anger in Sudeshna's voice.

"Then we must send for your merchant from Dwaraka, Subhadra."

"Subhadra has already given me, and my daughter the choicest of silks as gifts. If they are from this merchant of yours, maybe we can all just wear them."