You stand at a fork in
the road. The trees whisper, “Which
shall it be?”
Karna lifts the bow easily, smugly, and turns to the crowd.
“You are not worthy to compete!” the king bleats.
“I have as much a right as anyone here,” Karna declares,
nocking an arrow lazily. “Have I not
passed the first test?”
The king dares not say a word, but beside her, her brother
reaches for his sword.
You choose the left
path with its convenient gravel walkway and shady trees.
She steps forward, startling the crowd into silence. As she lifts her veil, she tosses her hair
back, and no man can resist following the movement.
“And, pray tell,” she smiles, “what the name of your father
is? If you may become my future husband,
I should know such important details of your lineage, don’t you think?”
The assembly begins to snicker, as Karna’s face burns like
the sun. He throws the bow on the
ground.
“Mark my words, princess,” he sneers. “You will regret this moment for the rest of
your life.”
She laughs. After all
what does she have to fear from the son of a charioteer?
She thinks she knows what he meant when they shame her in
front of the court and try to humiliate her as she did him.
It’s only later, years later, when she knows what he truly
meant, when her brother is dead, when her father is dead, when millions have
died.
All for the sake of her pride.
You choose the right
path. It’s a little muddy, but there’s a
nice view of the lake.
She squeezes her brother’s hand as she steps forward.
“What is the harm in letting him compete?” she says. “The bow has clearly shown that he is worthy
enough. Let him try for the target as
any one of you here would.”
Karna’s eyes are grateful, the arrogant façade stripped
away. His smile is only for her.
And when he hits the target, her smile is the only one he
sees.
But even love does not exist alone, and there are others who
feel insulted, alliances that must be changed, and advisors that must be
consulted.
Her father and her brother are forced to change sides
because of her.
But others do not, and even without her, the wheel turns.
The bet is still made, but she is not at stake this time.
Grudges are still held, and there is less sorrow for her at
the beginning but more at the end.
For she still loses it all:
her husband, her brother, and her father.
And this time she is not on the winning side.
You choose to go
back. Why choose now when you can choose
later?
There’s ashes in her mouth when she speaks, and she knows
she’ll remember this moment for the rest of her life.
“I am flattered that you would choose to vie for my hand,
Karna,” she says, her solemn eyes looking only at him.
“But my father does not want me to go so far away. He wants his dearest daughter nearby, and I
could not refuse him. As it is my
swayamvar, I am allowed to choose who I marry.
These challenges merely screen people and find worthy husbands, but it
is my own right to choose among them.
Therefore, I will not be able to choose you, Karna, although I am dearly
gladdened by your choosing to compete.”
Karna opens and closes his mouth. There is nothing he can say to this without
being ungracious, and so he nods and puts down the bow.
She thinks the crisis has been averted and congratulates
herself for her kind words.
She marries others, but the bet is still made.
There is no less humiliation in store for her, and she burns
to punish them, and her vengeance undoes them.
She finds herself alone again, at the end of her life.
“How could I have stopped this?” she cries to the gods, and
they reply, “You couldn’t have.”
Arjuna at Draupadi's swayamvar. Web Source.
Author's Note: After reading the first third of The Palace of Illusions, I was very intrigued by Draupadi and wanted to write from her point of view. I just got to the swayamvar and it presents an interpretation where Draupadi was actually interested in Karna and only insulted him because she was afraid he would kill her brother. So, I began wondering what would have happened if Draupadi had married Karna rather than the Pandavas. I came to the conclusion that not much would change as the Kauravas and Pandavas would still hate each other and they were only waiting for a spark to set them ablaze. This made me think of the short story "The Roads of Destiny" by O. Henry where a young poet decides to leave home and comes across three paths. Although he encounters very different things with the different paths he chooses, the end result is always the same for him. I wanted to incorporate that idea of seemingly being able to choose and yet still ending up with the same result in Draupadi's story.
Bibliography: The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. Reading Guide.
