EIGHTEEN
As soon as Dusasana threw her down, Panchali screamed long and loud in primeval rage: a cry from her soul. A wild and cornered thing, she panted, "I curse you, sons of Bharata! I curse you a thousand times! That you allow this outrage in your ancient court of dharma."
Her fury silenced the humming sabha.
"I see the Kuru elders on their thrones. I see Bheeshma, Drona, Vidura and Dhritarashtra before me. Or am I dreaming? For they sit looking on, while a villain, witless with power, tells his brutal brother to drag a chaste woman and a wife into the royal sabha of the Kurus. The fiend drags me through the palace by my hair, washed in the holy water of the Rajasuya yagna, drags me here like some whore. And not a word to stop him from Bheeshma, Drona, Vidura or Dhritarashtra. Surely, this is a monstrous dream from which I will awaken, to find daylight in the world."
She paused, breathless. Then she turned on Yudhishtira, "Here, in this court of righteous men, sits my own husband, who is the Lord Dharma's son; and with him, his brothers, matchless kshatriyas and Devaputras, all of them my husbands." There was such contempt in her voice and the Pandavas squirmed. "And a messenger from this sabha told me I must come here like a slave because my husband, who is dharma's very image on earth, had lost me at dice.
I asked for an answer to one question before I came, half-clad and in shame. Instead of a proper reply, Dusasana burst into my apartment and dragged me here like an animal. And none of these great kshatriyas stopped him."
Her eyes raked her husbands. Yudhishtira would have been glad if the earth opened and swallowed him. He never raised his head. She stood like that, her slender shoulders heaving and no one dared make a sound. You could hear her breathe, as she turned back to the Kuru elders on their thrones.
More quietly, she said, "Dharma has left the Kuru sabha. But I would still like an answer from Pitama Bheeshma, from Acharya Drona, from Kripa, Vidura and Dhritarashtra. My question is a simple one: am I Duryodhana's slave or still a free woman?"
She looked directly at Bheeshma now. "Pitama, they say there is no one nobler than you, nor anyone more learned or wiser. You answer me, am I a slave or am I free?"
Bheeshma said gravely, "It is a fine point of dharma. On one hand, when a man has lost himself already he may no longer wager anyone else. On the other, a man has a right over his wife, whether he is free or not: our meanest servants do. It is hard to say if you are free or a slave, Panchali.
Yudhishtira knew that Shakuni is a master dice-player. Yet, he chose to play; and though he was losing, he continued until he lost everything, including you."
Draupadi cried, "How can you say Yudhishtira played willingly? In Indraprastha, he told Vidura he did not want to play. Obviously, he was provoked into playing. You were here all the while, Pitama: didn't you know how poor at dice my husband is? That he hasn't the temper for it, that he is too noble, too innocent. Or didn't you, perhaps, know there is no dice-player on earth like Shakuni? But you sat by without a murmur as Yudhishtira gambled away all that he owned.
O, Pitama, you are the king's uncle; you wield great power in this sabha. How did you allow this? It was like sending a child into battle against a seasoned warrior. And yet, Bheeshma, you speak to me of the finer points of dharma. How do you dare?"
Her delicate form shook and her wrath was that of an empress. Awesome destiny stood beside Draupadi in that court and anyone there who had been calm enough would have recalled the prophecy at her birth: that, one day, she would become the nemesis of the race of kshatriyas.
Panchali had not finished. "O Bheeshma, O Drona, O Kuru elders, Yudhishtira lost everything he owned and then he lost his brothers and himself. When he decided to wager me, at least then couldn't one of you have stopped him?
Dharma is not merely the details of the law. That is not justice. Is it not clear to your wise old hearts what is just in this matter and what is not? Do you really not know on which side the truth lies? That you, Bheeshma, say to me you cannot decide if I am a slave or free. There is no sabha without its elders. But just being old does not make a man fit to be a patriarch, or deserving of the title of Pitama or Acharya. If the elders don't speak out for dharma when they see it flouted so flagrantly, they are not elders but merely old men, of neither wisdom nor truth."
She still shook with the terror of her plight. Staring at her with unspeakable lewdness, Dusasana taunted, "Who are you to speak of dharma? Your dharma now is to serve Duryodhana and I dare say your satisfaction lies there as well!"
This coarseness was greeted by laughter from some of the other Kaurava brothers, devils all, spliced once from the misshapen lump of flesh that Gandhari aborted. Draupadi glared at Dusasana as if to burn him up with her gaze.
Bheema, who barely controlled himself all this while, could not bear it any more. He turned on Yudhishtira.
"What have you done? Men who gamble every day have wives, but they do not wager them at dice. But the Pandava emperor does! You are mad. You gambled away all our wealth, our army, our kingdom, everything we had. I said nothing, because you are my older brother. I cared little for what you lost when I set it against my love for you.
Then, you gambled the five of us away and still I held my peace. I thought that you are our guru, our king. We all belong to you and whatever you did would be for the best."
Bheema's face was crimson. Arjuna tried to calm him, but the son of the wind had lost control of himself.
"Everything you did I bore in silence. But now you have gone completely mad. Did you see how that animal dragged Draupadi into this sabha of our fathers? Yudhishtira, I will never forgive you for wagering Panchali!"
His eyes were red and flecks of froth on his lips. Bheema turned to Sahadeva and cried, "Bring me fire, Sahadeva. I will burn the hands that lost Panchali at a game of dice!"
The man who had been emperor of the world, an hour ago, sat with his head hung low. Arjuna pulled Bheema to a side and hissed, "What has happened to you? You have always treated Yudhishtira like a father. How can you speak to him like this at such a time?"
Bheema was in no mood to relent. "He was like a father till an hour ago and I respected him. But he has changed: he deserves to have his hands burned! Oh, Arjuna, look at Draupadi. Can you bear this shame?"
Restraining the titan somehow, Arjuna breathed, "Look at Yudhishtira; do you think he feels no shame? How bravely he bears it and his guilt. His spirit is already broken, Bheema. What will you achieve by burning a broken man's hands?"
Bheema's eyes still blazed and his great body shook. But he allowed himself to be led away to a corner, where Arjuna said, "There is one thing Duryodhana has not been able to take from us: our unity. Don't complete the Kaurava's joy by gifting him that as well."
Bheema seemed startled. He looked around him and realized he stood on the edge of disaster. With an effort, he calmed himself.