Rage, maybe rage would lift me up, make me stand, make me walk
-Marlon James, Black Leopard, Red Wolf
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The news came to me through the mouth of a charioteer, who held his heart is his hands, every vein apparent on his body, shivering and trembling not because of the cold but the magnitude of the news he had brought.
I don't know who or what gave me the strength to stand still when he delivered the news.
I felt acutely aware of everything in that moment.
I remember thinking, absurdly and quick that I could recite the number of every dust particle caught in the light of the room if I had to. I could tell exactly how much metal was used to make the bangles that now seemed to press on my wrists like pre determined hand cuffs, I could recount all the articles in that room with lightning speed if I had to.
My knees did not give out, I did not faint, my soul didn't leave my body.
Shock did not spread through me like the poison of Thakshaka had easily spread in Khandavaprastha. Instead something more steadier, more stronger, more stiller and more womanly in nature settled itself in the pit of my stomach.
Clarity.
A woman is always a pawn in a man's game of chess. Never a queen. Always a pawn. Meant to be pawned, to be used, to be spent, to be wagered.
"How cursed am I to bring this to you samaragyi, How cursed am I?" the charioteer sobbed. Tears flooded down his cheeks.
"Your lord bet and lost on the gold, the horses, the elephants, the armies, the palace, the land, his brothers, himself-" The charioteer gasped for breath. I pushed the pot of water in his direction.
His hand reached to take the water, but he didn't take it. "He bet on you Samragyi." his voice was barely a whisper.
My head whirred for a moment, "And?" my voice questioned.
"He lost Smaragyi, he lost mother."
He lost.
He wagered on me and lost.
He betted on me and lost.
He gambled on me and lost.
He lost.
We both stood in silence for a minute. I spiralled in possibilities. Every possible ruin before my eyes. Destruction of my dignity printed every cell in my body.
No.
He lost. I did not.
Someone else's voice, not quite me, spoke through my mouth.
Go. Go it told the charioteer. Go ask that court of 'dharma' under what laws of dharma had Yudhisthra wagered me. He who loses himself holds no possessions. He who has no possession of himself does not possess anything more. A slave has no belongings. By which law of Dharma had he wagered me? Which law stated that a woman is a possession of a man? By which law of Dharma, by the rules of which scripture had he dared to wager me?
The charioteer ran, a silver of hope appeared on his worn face.
I steadied my breath. The hall held wise men. Surely Bhishma, the grandsire would not let such an injustice happen to his grand daughter in law. Certainly he would realise the folly and the adharmic happenings. If not Bhishma, Drona would. He had broke his back to teach these men Dharma, he would not let it astray would he? If not Drona, Vidura would. Wouldn't he? That was his duty as the Prime minister of the Kuru Kingdom and the advisor of the king. All of them were men who beleived dharma was their most prized possession.
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Draupadi
Fiksi Sejarah--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dharma was the cloth I held closest. I was draped in dharma. No one could ever take that from me. No amount of pu...
