Week 6, Story: Draupadi the Brave

Draupadi was one of the most beautiful women of her time. She had a dark complexion and silky hair as black as the night. Draupadi’s father desired for his daughter to be wed to Arjuna, royal son of the kingdom of Hastinapura. Now to earn the hand of the maiden Draupadi, Arjuna was sent on a quest to defeat a great rashaka that had been tormenting the people of the kingdom. Arjuna came to Draupadi the night before his departure, offering robes of beautiful golden silk as a token of his affections. Draupadi smiled and bowed in thanks, but would not look the handsome young prince in the eye.

She was absolutely inconsolable at the idea of being forced to wed the prince, convinced that none other than her first love, Karvanda, could offer her a lifetime of fulfillment. Karvanda was the court’s dance instructor, who choreographed all of the dances performed by the young ladies of the palace in honor of the king. Karvanda was much older than Draupadi, some fifteen years her senior, but had taught her to dance gracefully and eloquently from the time of her youth. He would commend her performances with much enthusiasm, each time placing a gentle kiss in her perfumed hair and saying, “like the wind, my andhra pradesh (lotus flower); you dance freely, like the wind.” As Draupadi matured into a young lady, she became the most envied female in the kingdom. Every eligible suitor attempted to court her, and she would always accept their requests for a dance with a coy smile and a seductive twinkle in her eye. Each time she took the floor, however, she would sneak a glance at her sweet Karvanda, who would smile brightly and wink at her.

When it came time for Draupadi’s father to choose a husband for her, her face was downcast for the time being. One afternoon, after a dance lesson, Karvanda approached Draupadi, who sat on the soft earth in the garden with tears in her eyes. “Oh my sweet andhra pradesh, why do you allow your spirits to be dampened? When you smile, it brightens even the gloomiest day. Let the world see your light shine today.”

“Oh Karvanda,” she spoke, “I am unable to bring myself to be happy. My father has betrothed me to the cocky prince Arjuna, and I am now to be miserable forever.”

“Silly girl,” Karvanda replied incredulously, “your married-life will be filled with wealth and prosperity. You disrespect the gods by denying your blessings. The future of our kingdom is entirely reliant on this union; you will be favored for your actions in compliance with your father’s wishes.” Draupadi heard his words, and her heart burned as she yearned to tell him of her love for him. She looked away so he would not see her cry; tears began to fall from her eyes. Karvanda departed from her company, gently placing his lips to her forehead. Draupadi felt her heart break in that moment.

Three days passed, and Arjuna returned to Panchala to claim his bride. Draupadi wept as she awaited his arrival, but remembered Karvanda’s words to her. She sat at her vanity and braided her long hair, reflecting inward on the responsibility that was given to her. She prayed to Krishna to guide her and give her strength. Krishna, touched by her humility in spite of her heartbreak, whispered to the wind to carry courage to the young maiden. Draupadi wiped the tears from her eyes and powdered her cheeks. As she arose from her vanity, perfuming her wrists with rose water, she felt a newfound sense of gallantry. She knew in her heart that Karvanda had spoken the truth, and that her marriage to Arjuna would allow her to do great things for the people of their kingdoms. She said goodbye to her childhood home, and the people she loved, with bittersweet tears in her eyes. She departed Panchala with Arjuna, turning to look back at her home. She saw, as she always did, her love smiling at her with pride. He bowed his head at her and whispered. Though she could not hear his words, she felt in her heart the words which he had spoken: “harmony to you, my andhra pradesh.”

Draupadi and Arjuna arrived in Hastinpura late that evening. Draupadi did her best to be brave, keeping the strength of Krishna in her heart. Arjuna led her to the throne room, putting his new bride on display for his mother and four brothers. Draupadi bowed humbly, as Arjuna’s mother motioned him to her. She whispered something in his ear; Draupadi held her pose, outwardly calm. Arjuna looked troubled, then slowly walked back to his bride.

“My mother orders,” he explained slowly, “that my brothers and I are to share you.” Draupadi rose slowly, her heart racing, as she locked eyes with the queen.She remembered her prayer to Krishna, and the moments of courage that followed. Feeling a sense of peace, she decided to be brave, and swore that she would thenceforth be brave in all that she said and did.

“As you wish, my queen,” she stated simply, fiercely holding her gaze with Kunti.

 

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Draupadi and the Pandevas

 

Author’s Note: 

I took this story from the Mahabharata, in which it is decided that Draupadi will be shared as a wife by the Pandevas, or rather that Draupadi will have five husbands because of a prayer she made in a past life. In the original story from the Mahabharata, Draupadi is born by fire, created by her father to bring an end to the Kurus. She is won as a bride by Arjuna-in-disguise in a contest of strength, held by her father. Arjuna, in disguise, shot an arrow through the eye of a fish, which was spinning on a rod in a pan of oil. Krishna, and the king Karna, also shot the fish’s eye successfully, but Karna was considered too low of birth-caste to marry Draupadi, and Krishna was only present as a spectator to ensure the betrothal of Arjuna and Draupadi; therefore, Draupadi was awarded as the bride to Arjuna. Kunti, the Pandevas’ mother, instructed the brothers to “share the prize” when they informed her that Arjuna had won a prize in a contest.

There is not much about Draupadi’s childhood in the Mahabharata, so I decided to concoct some possible ideas of one. Karvanda is a completely fictional character of my own making, but I liked the idea of this fierce woman having to make such a drastic choice early on in her life. I desired to give Draupadi, one of the most influential women in the Mahabharata, a chance to display her innocence and the struggles she may have faced in order to develop into the strong and brave woman that she was.

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Draupadi Image

 

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My Favorite Place

Everyone has a favorite place: either somewhere they desire to be, somewhere they have never seen, or somewhere that they escape to, in reality or in their mind. One of the most cliched stress-relievers in the book is to “go to your happy place,” for goodness sake. For some, that vision of a proverbial beach destination, complete with a rum and coke in each hand, or the top of that hypothetical mountain is merely a figment of imagination; for others, it is a tangible location that they have been or wish to travel to at some point in their lifetime.

Like others, I have my hypothetical mountain. I often picture a cabin in the mountains where I will not be bothered by the materialistic and conflictual concerns of our society. I also have those destinations that I have never been, but have a strong inclination to visit someday: New Delhi, India, for one, is one of the most fascinating places on Earth in my mind, and I would love to experience the culture and see the beauty, and what is no longer beautiful, in this long-lasting metropolis. London, England is another location I have always longed to see, and I largely hope to move there for a short time following my graduation from OU. I could mentally escape to any of these places, and I could imagine all I like how the experience would be, however for those parts of the world in which I have never ventured, I simply do not feel it appropriate to label them my “favorite place.” I do not think that there is anything wrong with others having a hypothetical favorite place that they have never been to in reality, but for myself, it feels almost counterproductive. I want my favorite place to be somewhere that I enjoy being, that I can feel safe and find solace, and that brings me peace and joy to think about. How can I enjoy a place to which I have never been? I wouldn’t call haggis my favorite food because I have never tried it. Consider the possibility of me traveling to my “favorite place,” a place that I have never been, such as India, and having an absolutely miserable experience. I feel it much more appropriate to find a favorite place that I have physically been present in before.

Unfortunately, my travel experience is pretty limited, and I have never been out of the country. I have been to approximately six of the fifty states. I could always think of someplace from my past, somewhere with a lot of sentiment. Well if this were the case, my favorite place(s) would be the On the Borders I worked at in Texas; however I would not go there to seek solace now because some of the experiences I had there carry a lot of weight for me. I am an over-thinker and a worrier to boot, so if I can control my physical exposure to my past, I will try to limit it. I could look towards the future, but again, how can I truly, without a doubt, love a place I have never been? I suppose my goal here is to live in the present, which I am terrible at; however, 2017 is a new year and it is a new semester, so why not start here? Now, I am not going to love every place I am in at a present moment because some places will bring me pain, and some places flat out suck. In the relative present of my life, nevertheless, I do have a location that I can escape to, and conditions that I love it to be in.

My house here in Norman, Oklahoma, in which I have lived for a year and will only live in another, is a beautiful blip in what I will look back at as my life. I love going home to Texas to see my family, but I never enjoyed being in the house that my family lives in, given its condition and some of the memories it bears. My house here in Norman is my home. When I have escaped the stress of the theatre and the expectations of my department, when I have had a miserable day at work, or when there are people causing me pain, my house is there with spells for walls, keeping the secrets I whisper to myself and my roommates, trapping tears and providing joy for all who come through the threshold that is my front door. I can sit at my dining room table and work for hours, looking out the sliding glass door into my big back yard that provides shelter for the creatures that run along my back porch, and come up to the glass door when they don’t know I am watching from a feet away inside. I consider it a blessing to be able to unlock my door and walk into my home each evening. I take pride in keeping it clean and welcoming, and have had so many laughs and screams of joy within its confines. Others always find my home to be charming, and I like to think that it has a good spirit.

Yes, there will probably come a time when I will fly to England or India, or rent a cabin in the mountains, or find a coffee shop where I will meet my husband, or a job where I cry when I finally leave it and my coworkers cry with me. For now, though, I am a struggling college student barely making ends meet, having an existential crisis daily and trying to function with illusion of grace and maturity, when in reality there are times that I have sat on my living room floor screaming at my roommates about what I should text a stupid boy, “just let me be an adult!” (Thankfully, my house kept that in too.) So for now, I am content with calling my small three-bedroom, one bath house my favorite place. It is my escape from hardship, and my fortress when I must battle through the pains and struggles of being at the cusp of beginning my adult life. It is my home, and my home is my heart. I am not the fondest, in all reality, of Norman, Oklahoma; but my little house is my bubble, and when I am there, I am not in Oklahoma: I am in my own mind and my own universe, and I can control who and what is allowed to be there with me.

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A future reflection will reveal Norman as a place of solace, I’m certain.

 

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