Arjun looked at the sleeping figure of his first love, across him. He stared. Period.
The glories he bought from far and wide to the treasury of Inderprasth, was looked after by Draupadi. This thought made him feel like a flush teenager, on the verge of experiencing infatuation because of his idol's single praise for him.
Draupadi has been the first lady, to evoke the strong sense of desire to behold a person, to do something outwardly for someone, in him. He had won her and then, royally or maybe indifferently, had bequeathed her, to his family.
For years his opinions have changed every now and then. And now one stands still-
that Draupadi stands as the breathing testimony of the pride of the Pandavs.
He stopped pinning for her, rather, just admired her from a distance.
The way she ruled with Yudhitir, the way she laughed with Bheem and the way she let Nakul free of his obsession with mirrors or the way she took Sahdev out of his shell- the way she bought each of his four brothers to him or as she took him to the rest of them.
They say that husbands protect the honour and pride of their wives, but in his case, it was she- who did that to them.
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'Let me practice with you, Parth!' Draupadi would pester him badly. Fooling around his practice arena after a day full of hard work as the queen was her new past time.
'Your Highness, if you fail to hit the target- then it may taint our image!' Arjun would play along with a silly smile, trying to hide a blush. He didn't know- but the rush of blood in his veins, the scarlet of his cheeks sent him to the teenage years he had toiled in practice and discipline.
'Have I ever missed the target, Arya?' Draupadi would ask with a mischievous grin.
No. Never.
And then Arjun shall peculate away his Highness, to become a lover in some other world!
