The Other Princess

Dushala

The morning before Samyukta's wedding dawned with a mixture of anticipation and excitement in Mathura. The grand preparations were underway, with the entire palace bustling in activity. Krishna and his family were overseeing every detail to ensure that everything would be perfect for the big day. Drupada and the rest of the Panchala royal family was expected to arrive in the evening.

In the midst of the celebrations, a new arrival caught everyone's attention. Dushala, the only sister of the Kauravas, entered the palace, her figure visibly rounded with her first child. She was greeted warmly by her brothers, Vikarna, Duryodhana, and Dushasana.

"Welcome, little sister!" Duryodhana exclaimed, stepping forward to embrace her warmly. "Look at you, the very image of a perfect wife and mother. Tell me, are you happy?"

Dushala nodded, though the hesitation in her eyes did not escape anyone's notice. She forced a smile, glancing at her brothers as she embraced her eldest brother.

Duryodhana, oblivious to her discomfort or choosing to ignore it, continued with a smug tone. "This is what happens when you listen to me," he said, puffing his chest. "You made the right choice. Had you gone down the foolish path of marrying some random prince out of sentiment, you'd have broken all ties with your family. But no, you were wise. You married who I chose for you, keeping your honour and loyalty to the family intact."

His words, though seemingly directed at Dushala, were laced with pointed barbs aimed at Samyukta's upcoming marriage to Dhrishtadyumna. His eyes lingered on Samyukta, who stood nearby, surrounded by the Pandavas and Krishna. The tension in the air was palpable.

"Some people," Duryodhana continued, his tone growing more cutting, "choose to throw away their family's respect, and bring only shame to us. They break all ties, all bonds, for the sake of their whims and fantasies. But loyalty—that is the foundation of a strong family. Isn't that right, Dushala? They fail to realise that disrespecting their family is a path to ruin, and such marriages are not meant to last!"

Bhima's hand clenched into a fist, and Nakula's expression darkened. The insult, though indirect, was clear. Duryodhana was speaking of Samyukta's marriage to Dhrishtadyumna, subtly criticising the match. Bhima's patience finally snapped, his knuckles turning white as he prepared to unleash his fury.

Before he could act, Yudhishthira stepped in, placing a calming hand on Bhima's shoulder. "Not here, Bhima," he whispered firmly. "Not today."

Krishna, who had been observing the scene in silence, stepped forward with a serene smile. "Peace, Bhima," he said softly. "Remember why we are here. The next few days are not for old grudges. Let's not allow words to overshadow the love and happiness we are meant to celebrate. After all, we are here to celebrate the union of two souls, not divide our families further."

Bhima's shoulders heaved, glancing at Yudhishthira and Krishna before taking a step back, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Dushala, standing quietly amidst the tension, wore a strained smile. Her life had been dictated by her brother's decisions, her marriage arranged without her consent. Her husband, the King of Sindhu, was a man plagued by a split personality—one moment kind and gentle, the next, cruel and uncivil, especially towards women. Dushala had borne the brunt of his cruelty, suffering silently as the customs of Sindhu, and Aryabhoomi demanded that a wife endure her husband's moods, no matter how oppressive.

As the tension between the Pandavas and Kauravas eased, Samyukta approached Dushala and embraced her warmly. "Sister, I'm so happy you could come!"

"Samyukta! I wanted to see you too as soon as I heard you were marrying!"