Draupadi

CHAPTER VIX

grieving, grieving, constant grieving

I grieve what could have been, what will not be, what I can't save

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This time isn't like the usual. The usual breakage that occurs when I dream of someone I lost. This time it's different. It's sadder. It always is, but the intensity is different.

The dreams I had at the beginning of the loss were so savage and were meant to break me. I would wake up sobbing, screams still in my throat.

This time is different. It like poison honeyed. I had forgot that I had lost them, I thought they were still there, I forgot everything the war, the loss, the grieff, the deaths.

I can see the remnants of my dream floating at the edges of my eyes and I memorise the image. The image of me and my sons sitting around eachother, just talking. Holding them, running my hand through their soft hair. 

I can feel the weight of Shruthakarma against my lap, when I rub my eyes. It felt so real.

I miss them so much. So much. I can't do this. I want them, I want to hold them, even if just one more time. I want them.

I think of Satanika's scar and I start sobbing as I think how I will never know how he got that scar. 

I tried asking Subhadhra once, my voice all cracked and the words all jumbled, tears welling in my eyes and Subhadhra started sobbing. 

I guess she doesn't know either. And it wrecks me. 

What kind of mother doesn't know the most obvious things about her son? 

A mother like me, I guess. A half laugh escapes me. 

I think of my sons, my god-sent angels who knew me so well, who knew how the wrecks in my heart, who knew how to soothe them. 

I was so selfish. As a mother I should have healed their wounds not used their love as a balm for mine. 

I should have been like an ocean, constantly giving instead I stayed the fire constantly taking and ruining. 

My selfish heart, I scold myself. 

I think of my son as I stare out the window seated on my window seat perfectly on the ledge under the window, perfect to curl into when pained.

Prathivindhya, just like his father but he reminded me so much of me. Golden skin, perfectly carved nose, eyes shaped like a fish, pink lips and just his gaze would make people go silent and listen to him. He was an amazing son. A son who'd hold me even if he was crying. He was so giving. Like the calm of the ocean. 

I have so many beautiful memories of him printed to my soul. Him holding his hands on his hips biting his lip to suppress his laughter. All his brothers looking at him for permission. His gaze enough to communicate to them. Him commanding a room, effortlessly he didn't even need to raise his voice. Just a raise of his eyebrows would make his brothers go silent when they were being naughty. Prathivindya, my eldest. 

Automatically my mind goes to Sutasoma, my second, beautiful son. His fair, milky skin contrasting with the darkness of his hair and the red of his angavastra he so often wore. He was like his father in all ways. He was the exact copy of his father, in his character and his unocnditional love for me. He'd hang onto my every word. His eyes flicking upto mine with expectation and longing. I would never know what to do with that longing. I'd simply hold him closer and he laugh and carry me as if it was effortless. I'd pretend to roll my eyes, but he was his father's son after all. He was bound to be stronger than what I beleived was possible.

Abhimanyu. Oh Abhimanyu. He was lion hearted and brave and sweet and innocent and beautiful. He had light brown skin, wavy hair. He almost always dressed in light blue and white. His eyes looked more beautiful than molten honey. He was so beautiful, so sweet in love. His eyes flitting to Uttara in every room he went to. He would always hold onto his mother's hand whenever he was with him. He was just beautiful. It brings an ache in my mind when I think of Uttara, how alone she'd feel after being loved by Abhimanyu. He was so brave, so solemn, so gorgeous with that ridiculous laughter of his. 

Satanika's laughter echoes in my mind. His laughter was like that of a lone wolf, jagged, scarred and deep. His voice rough and echoing. I can imagine the light catching the scar from the top of his eye to his cheek. His hair wavy and messy, his slight stubble, the predatory gaze in his grey eyes, muscular and tall. He was immensely handsome. I can think of how he always woke up poised to attack. How Dhri would look at him with pride and I think only he could ever hold him. Prathivindhya and Satanika were always close,  secrets whispered to eachother, brotherly love and care passed in absent threats. He was always scared he wouldn't be able to protect his brothers. He was immensely amazing.

Shruthasena gently appears in my mind, the image of him quietly sitting in a corner, thinking with an intensity that bypassed the normal. He had the same haunted eyes as Sahadeva.  He would say beautiful thoughts. He once said this beautiful poetry like prose, being brothers means you'll peel the rinds of your oranges and while the smell of citrus saturates the air you'll find yourself handing over half for a equal share because being siblings is willing going half hungry to share life's sweetness. His voice was so sweet, It would make tears well in my eyes with the gentleness of my eyes. I love the way he is, so much.

Shruthakarma, my youngest and most trying. He'd always come and lay himself in my lap, he'd sing random songs and he'd tease his brothers for every little thing. He would drive Prathivindhya crazy with his empty threats and would tease Abhimanyu of becoming all lovey-dovey and sappy. But he was the deepest of all. He once told me how he loved his brothers with every single peice of his soul. He'd speak proudly of them. Of how Prathivindhya practically raised him, how Satanika was Dhri's favorite. He was the best at telling stories. I loved the look he got in his eyes when he spoke of something he loved.

I know only have these remnants of them and they'll never experience their dreams. God I miss them.

Grieving, grieving, constant grieving.

I grieve what could have been, what will not be, what I cannot save.

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