Draupadi

CHAPTER XXII

I stood before the mirror, the vibrant hues of red and orange swirling together in a cascade of fabric, reflecting the excitement bubbling within me. Today was the day of the Rajasuya yagna, a monumental occasion that shimmered with promise. My sons, adorned in maroon and gold, were a sight to behold. . My heart swelled as I watched them—Prathivindhya to little Abhimanyu, each one as charming as the next.The air was thick with celebration. My husbands had returned from their Digvijaya yatra, each dressed in magnificent attire that spoke of their valor and strength. Dhri and Shikhandhi had arrived early, their presence grounding the festivities. And there was Krishna, a figure of calm in the midst of all the excitement, his eyes glinting with mischief and wisdom. As I watched my sons play with Dhri, I caught a rare glimpse of joy in his eyes—an expression that warmed my heart. The sounds of laughter and music danced through the air, as dancers twirled gracefully, embodying the spirit of celebration. Indraprastha was a feast for the senses, its decorations a riot of colours and flowers, an invitation to joy.When Yudhishthira chose Krishna as the chief guest, a collective cheer erupted, but the happiness was short-lived. Shishupal, the king of the Chedis and Krishna's cousin, stormed forward, his face twisted with disdain. "You're honoring this foolish cowherd who claims to be supreme!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the festive atmosphere like a knife.Anger surged through Bhima, his fists clenching as he prepared to defend Krishna's honor. But Krishna raised a hand, a silent plea for restraint. Shishupal continued his tirade, spitting insults that dripped with venom. Krishna remained silent, his demeanor calm and collected, an ocean of patience amidst the storm.The tension escalated as Shishupal's words grew sharper, "Why would you listen to this old man? The man who abducted Amba when she sought another's hand!" The crowd shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting between the two.Finally, Krishna spoke, his voice steady and measured. Yet, it was in a flash that his chakra spun from his finger, slicing through the air with lethal precision, and Shishupal's head fell to the ground. A collective gasp echoed around us, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. In that moment, I noticed the blood pooling around Krishna's finger, and instinctively, I tore a piece from my saree, tying it around his hand. "Oh God, Draupadi! What are you doing? Your husbands will kill me if they find out you tore an expensive saree for me!" he exclaimed, half-joking yet with a hint of concern."Krishna!" I scolded gently, a smile breaking through my worry. ""When you need it , I'll return this cloth a thousandfold," he replied, his playful tone easing my heart."Only the best embroidered Mathura sarees, okay?" I teased, our bond a mix of warmth and camaraderie."Promise," he grinned, that glimmer of mischief still in his eyes.The mood shifted again when Duryodhan, red with anger at the perceived disrespect toward Shishupal, stormed out. In his fury, he stumbled into a pond that blended seamlessly with the ground, causing ripples that lapped against the surrounding decor. Laughter erupted from the crowd, a mischievous maid chiming in, "A blind man's son is also blind!" I stifled my laughter, but when Duryodhan's furious gaze caught mine, I felt a shiver run down my spine. It was a look that warned of storms to come. He turned, leaving the merriment behind, and I sighed, the celebration now tinged with a hint of impending chaos.

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The storms are brewing, and the joy we felt is fleeting. It's clear that the atmosphere has shifted, and the lighthearted moments we cherished are now overshadowed by the seriousness that looms ahead. I hope you enjoyed this chapter—your thoughts mean the world to me! Please read, vote, and share your comments; they help shape the journey ahead.