TWENTY
For a magical week, there was uninterrupted festivity in Chaitra: wine, food and song. Draupadi learnt to sing and dance with yakshis, guhyakis and forest gandharvis. But at the week's end, Yudhishtira came to Kubera on his sapphire throne and said, "My lord, we have been overwhelmed by your hospitality. But now we must return to Badarikasrama and wait for Arjuna, for our hearts are full of him."
Kubera gave Panchali precious gifts from his legendary coffers. The jewels she had from him were not of the earth but ornaments of the Devas. There were diamonds, moonstones and rubies and corals and pearls from the seas of worlds deep in the heavens. They were all stones of great power and fortune. At last, it was time for the Pandavas to return to Badarikasrama.
Kubera had the saugandhikas that Bheema had plucked for Draupadi packed in reed-baskets. They took his blessing before they left because they knew that, for all his geniality, he was one of the masters of the earth: the Dikpala of the north, the Lord of treasures. Yet, not once during their visit did he seem any more than a wise and affable host, if somewhat ageless, since you could not begin to tell how old he was. Not once did he reveal his other, pristine form to them: that of an awesome Lokapala.
Back at Badarikasrama, the days and nights began to seem long as years to Draupadi and the Pandavas. Every morning, they awoke in excitement that Arjuna would return to them today. But each day brought disappointment and, at its end, they would lie in their beds, sleepless, wondering if he would arrive in the dead of night.
Yet the asrama and its surroundings were tranquil and lovely and did not allow them to remain dejected. The trees of the nearby woods were all in bloom, draped in brilliant cloaks of flowers. They went on long walks together through the cedar groves and even Draupadi was contented in Badarikasrama. Bheema was always dancing attendance on her, going to absurd lengths to satisfy her every whim. He would climb the tallest tree or up to the most hazardous rock-crevice, to fetch a flower that took her fancy. And, indeed, they were reasonably happy.
But after they returned from Kubera's garden, all their thoughts were full of Arjuna. Five years had passed since he left them and they could hardly bear the separation any more.
One day, they were out on a rambling walk—the Pandavas, Draupadi and Lomasa, Dhaumya and his brahmanas and some of the rishis—in the pine forest south of Badari, when Nakula, who walked ahead of the others, gave a shout and pointed to the sky. "Look! What is that?"
A light like a piece of the sun come loose hung pulsing in the blue. Most of them had never seen anything like it, but Lomasa smiled. "It is a vimana from Devaloka."
The gleaming ship of the firmament hung perfectly still, as if those inside it were seeking something on the mountain below. The Pandavas and the rishis stood rooted. Next moment, in a silent, thought-swift streak of light, the vimana flashed down to the earth and landed not five hundred hands from where the Pandavas stood. A door at its side slid open, a stairway made of mirrors slipped noiselessly to the ground and a kshatriya climbed down those steps, smiling from ear to ear.
"Arjuna!" screamed Draupadi and ran into his arms.
Then Arjuna knelt at Yudhishtira's feet and Yudhishtira pulled him up and took him in his arms. Soon Bheema, Nakula and Sahadeva were hugging Arjuna and they were all laughing in absolute joy, tears in their eyes. Arjuna prostrated himself before Dhaumya. He bowed reverently to Lomasa and the rishis of Badari and embraced the brahmanas of Indraprastha. Such a reunion there was and Draupadi just stood by, tears flowing from her dark eyes that never left Arjuna's face. It was as if she was seeing him again for the very first time, as she had long ago at her swayamvara.
Meanwhile, the elegant sarathy Matali had come down the stairway that was a threshold between this world and another. Yudhishtira went forward to greet him, with Lomasa and Dhaumya. Matali stood aside at the foot of the glass steps and they began to throb with light: Indra, king of the Devas, came majestically down them.
One by one, the Pandavas fell at the God's feet; he blessed them all and the rishis who stood tongue-tied. Indra carried a silver casket in his hands and he called Draupadi. She knelt before him and he pressed the casket into her hands. "A small gift for my son's lovely wife."
Indra turned to Yudhishtira, "The time draws near when you will sit upon the throne of your ancestors in Hastinapura and the world will pay homage to her emperor once more. Destiny moves swiftly and the war on the edge of the ages is near. Another year and some months you still have to spend in exile. I have brought Arjuna back to you and I thank you for the time he spent with me.
You will find it was well spent, for your brother is a master of astras now. No warrior on earth and perhaps none in Devaloka, can match him any more, as my enemies discovered to their cost. But I will leave that tale for him to tell."
Indra clasped Arjuna to him, one last time and Draupadi thought she saw a tear in the God's stern eye. The Deva said, "I must leave you now and you must return to the Kamyaka aranya."
He raised a hand over them and climbed back into his crystal ship. Matali embraced Arjuna, then, with a wave at Yudhishtira and the others, he too climbed back into the vimana.
The stairway of mirrors withdrew without a sound. The diamond panel slid smoothly back into place, leaving the disk opaque once more. The vimana began to pulse with light again, until those who stood on the ground had to turn their faces away. In a whisper, the great ship flew up into the sky; quicker than seeing, it was high above the mountain.
Now it seemed Matali was having a little gentle fun. His marvelous craft was no longer a disk; instead, a golden chariot had appeared in its place, drawn by six winged horses! Matali himself sat in plain view at its head, reins in one hand and a silver whip in the other. Behind him sat Indra, entirely glorious now. As those below watched spellbound, the white horses flashed straight up toward the sun and vanished: they went swifter than light.
For a long moment, the Pandavas stood staring after the Deva; then, the princes linked arms and made their way back to Badarikasrama. None of them spoke much; their hearts were too full at Arjuna's return. Often, in turns, the other Pandavas would go near their brother and hug him or squeeze his hand, as if to make sure he had really come back. Draupadi still walked between Yudhishtira and Arjuna, in a dream, holding both their hands, her gaze never leaving Arjuna's face. At times, she would smile to herself in some quiet bliss and her eyes were full.