Silencing Women: The Silence of Draupadi, Part 2

In the hours and days following her swayamvara, while the Pandava brothers, Kunti, her own brother Dhrishtadyumna, her father Drupada and Sage Vyasa decide her strange marriage with five men, for which she would forever be called a whore by her enemies. The most momentous decision about her life is being taken, taken in such a shocking way, contrary to all conventions, and she is being pushed into a life which the whole world calls one of sin, her brother expresses shock at it, her father is dumbfounded when he hears of it the first time, and yet Draupadi is silent. The assertive, eloquent, powerful, Draupadi, the mistress of herself at all times and under all circumstances, Draupadi who had spoken in her swayamvara with such decisiveness, such finality in her words that she shall not wed a soota, is utterly, completely silent here.

She had just garlanded that incredibly handsome Brahmin youth who had done the impossible, giving herself to him. He and his brother had defended with unbelievable skill and valour as the entire assembly of the invited kings turned on them, furious at the bride being given away to a Brahmin instead of to one of them, to a kshatriya. As they take her out of the swayamvara hall, she follows them, walking behind them.

Shock after shock awaits her now. The two youths she thought were Brahmins, though it looked impossible that they could be Brahmins, take her to a potter’s house. There they announce delightedly to their mother who is inside the house, “Look, mother, we have brought the alms.” And their mother answers from inside “Have it, all of you share it.” It is then that their mother sees her and says, “Alas! What have I said now?”

That was a small mistake, Draupadi would have thought. Nothing more than something to laugh at and forget about. The lady had said something unwittingly, she should correct herself now. But it turns out to be much more than that. For the next thing that happens is that Kunti takes her by her hand and leads her to Yudhishthira, who is already there, and tells him, “Look, oh king, at what I have done. This maiden is the daughter of King Drupada and your brothers brought and offered her to me. Mistaking it was some alms they have brought, I answered them appropriately, saying ‘Share and enjoy it among yourselves’. Tell me, Best of the Kurus, how may it be that my words do not become false? Tell me how this daughter of the king of Panchala will not be tainted by sin, how she will not have to wander repeatedly through lower births?”

By now who they are must have become clear to Draupadi. The mother had addressed the man as king and he looks every inch a king. That combined with the skill and valour of the two youths in the swayamvara hall leaves no doubt that these men are kshatriyas. And the mother herself looked every inch a kshatrani. Well, there is actually no need for these surmises – the lady has just addressed her son as the best of the Kurus – kuroonam rshabha, the bull among the Kurus. He is a Kuru king or at least a Kuru prince.

The Panchalas and the Kurus are related, King Pandu was a very close friend of her father Drupada, she had heard rumours that Kunti and the Pandava children had escaped the attempt on their lives at Varanavata and were safe and in hiding, the swayamvara was, at least in part, and the test in particular, arranged with the hope that the Pandavas would come out of their hiding and Arjuna, the best archer of the day, would win the test and wed her. Besides, all the Kuru princes would be known to her – Duryodhana and Dushshasana were there at the swayamvara, so that left little doubt about who the young man addressed as the best of the Kurus was.

Which meant the youth who had won her at the swayamvara could be none other than Arjuna, the one she had hoped to marry all along.

Draupadi should have expressed her feelings of joy in words now. She does not. She remains silent.

Of course she has every right to remain silent at this stage. She is a young, fresh bride, just brought here from the swayamvara. Modesty would require that she remained silent. She could just hold her joy in her heart – perhaps that would be the right thing for a dignified Indian princess to do under the circumstances.

Draupadi has at this stage no way of knowing a lot of other factors involved. For instance, it is not likely she knew that Yudhishthira and the twins had got up from the swayamvara hall soon after Arjuna won her – exactly as the protest of the other kings in the assembly became loud and aggressive against Draupadi being given to a Brahmin youth, seeing them growing violent. They had already come to the potter’s house where they were putting up for the time being. It is not in the least likely that Yudhishthira hadn’t given the news of Arjuna winning Draupadi to his mother. It was such important news, they had come to Kampilya specifically for this purpose, that morning they had left home specifically for this purpose, and the whole Kamplilya was celebrating her swayamvara on that day, even strangers could have talked about nothing else on that day. Also, Yudhishthira’s hopes of winning the kingdom back depended on it, in fact their staying alive depended on it, unless they were willing to continue living in hiding.  No, it is not in the least likely that Yudhishthira had not given the news to Kunti. Unless of course we believe that Yudhishthira was so annoyed with Arjuna winning Draupadi, whom he too desired, that he sat down sulking in a corner of the potter’s hut. Well, as a matter of fact, even if he had sat down sulking, his mother would have asked him why he was sulking, what had happened at the swayamvara, did someone else win Draupadi?

Kunti definitely knew that Arjuna had won Draupadi and would be coming with her soon, along with Bheema.

But since Draupadi could not even have suspected at this stage that Kunti knew about this and that when she told Arjuna and Bheema to share the bhiksha equally [among the five brothers] she was not really speaking from ignorance or a misunderstanding, it is perhaps natural that she does not speak at this stage, continues her modest silence, though she must definitely have wondered in her heart what sin Kunti was talking about, what sin she was just to commit for which she would have to wander from birth to birth in lower yonis, among lower species.

In response to her plea to her eldest son, Yudhishthira pacifies Kunti and asks Arjuna to light a fire immediately and marry Draupadi formally as it is he who has won her. And Arjuna replies that would not be correct since his elder brothers are not married [perhaps Bheema’s marriage with Hidimba does not count since she is a mere Rakshasa woman and the once powerful Rakshasas had by the Mahabharata times been reduced to the level of outcastes]; first Yudhishthira should marry, then Bheema, then he himself and then the twins, that’s how it should be. And then he tells him they are all, including Draupadi, under his command and he should do what is right and the best for all, including the Panchalas. He repeats again they are all under his command.

Fine so far. Draupadi would perhaps have thought her marriage would take place only after Yudhishthira’s and Bheema’s have taken place, her marriage with Arjuna would have wait until then.

At this stage, says the Mahabharata, all the Pandava brothers looked at Draupadi and they all lusted so strongly for her that their senses ceased to function. Yudhishthira makes up his mind now – for, apart from seeing the lust in the eyes of his brothers and knowing his own desire for her, he also remembered what Vyasa had told them: that the princess of Panchala was destined to be their common bride.

He announces his decision now – all the five brothers together shall marry her. She shall be their common wife.

Yudhishthira’s solution must have been a complete shock to her. This was unheard of. A man marrying many women was common. But this – this was outrageous! This was horrid and hideous!

Immediately following Vyasa’s strange words, Kunti and the Pandava brothers must have discussed it all among themselves. No one leaves such a prophecy undiscussed. Especially not a family as close knit as that of Kunti and her sons. In the time it took them to reach from Ekachakra to Kampilya, they must have discussed it repeatedly. They must have reached a decision among themselves. Yudhishthira’s current words, and Kunti’s earlier words asking the brother’s to ‘share and enjoy the bhiksha’ must all have been an outcome of those discussions.

But Draupadi had no way of knowing of all this. She must have been utterly taken aback by what had just been spoken. This should have made her speak. Made her protest. Made her scream. But she does not scream. She does not protest. She does not speak a word.

Even if we are willing to believe the story of Draupadi’s past birth in which she was given the boon or curse of five husbands, against which she protests immediately, Draupadi had no knowledge of such a boon. She has as yet no knowledge of the other stories Vyasa would later tell Drupada justifying her marriage to the five Pandavas. All her growing up years, there has been no talk of her marrying more than one man. She should have found the decision loathsome, repulsive. Even if we accept what Karna says about the nature of women, that they by nature desire more than one man, Indian women, women everywhere in patriarchal and non-polyandrous societies, are brought up to devote their entire life to one single man. A decision of five men to marry her simultaneously is not accepted without protests – violent protests.

Draupadi remains silent. Utterly silent.

o0o

Krishna and Balarama come to visit the Pandavas in the potter’s house. They are told nothing about this strange decision.

The Pandava brothers now go for bhiksha – strangely, it is Bheema and Arjuna, who have just returned after a fierce battle with a host of kings and princes in the swayamvara hall that go for bhiksha. The bhiksha is brought. As instructed by Kunti, Draupadi serves the meal and then has her own share of it. They all sleep in a single room – the brothers lying side by side, Kunti lying at their head, and Draupadi lying at their feet.

Draupadi is silent throughout.

Learning to his great pleasure that the youth who had won Draupadi is in all probability Arjuna, his brother who defended him in the Swayamvara hall is Bheema, and the Pandava brothers and Kunti are staying in a potter’s house in the outskirts of the city, Drupada invites them to the palace. They now stay in a palace offered them by Drupada. Drupada then tells Yudhishthira that now the formal wedding of Arjuna and Draupadi should take place. And Yudhishthira tells him that all the five brothers are going to marry Draupadi together. He gives two reasons: one, his mother has already ordered this; and the brothers have among themselves a vow that any jewel they get, they shall enjoy together. And of course, Draupadi is a rare jewel meant for enjoyment. Drupada is stunned by this announcement.

We have no way of knowing whether this discussion took place in Draupadi’s presence or not. All we are told is that Drupada went with his sons to the palace where the Pandavas, Draupadi and Kunti were staying and it is there that he talked of Draupadi’s wedding with Arjuna. Probably she was present, probably she was not. In any case, there is no mention of Draupadi’s reaction to Yudhishthira’s statement that jolts Drupada.

They continue the discussion and it is then that Vyasa, by chance, arrives there. The Mahabharata tells us through Vaishampayana that it was by chance that he came there. But that statement is very suspect – Vyasa knows about the swayamvara, he has sent the Pandavas there to participate in it, he has informed the brothers that Draupadi was born to marry all five of them, and he knows that no self-respecting father or brother would agree to such a marriage of his daughter or sister.

Drupada places before Vyasa the worry that has been tormenting him as soon as the rules of hospitality allow it: how can one woman become the wife of many without causing transgressions [samkara, literally intermixing]? And Vyasa says since the matter concerns something against the Vedas and the accepted practices of the world, he would like to hear the opinions of all in the matter.

Drupada opposes it. Dhrishtadyumna asks how an elder brother could have sex with a younger brother’s wife, which would happen if Draupadi married all five of them. Yudhishthira says he never lies, never makes a moral transgression, never desires what he shouldn’t desire, and he desires this marriage, so it cannot be wrong in any way.[1] Then he also gives the examples of Jatila and Marisha of yore, who had polyandrous marriages. He has one more reason to give: his mother has ordered it, and the mother is the highest guru above whom there is none, and therefore this marriage is the highest dharma. Kunti present there supports her son. She repeats here what she had told earlier – she is terrified of telling a lie, they should tell her how she could escape from the sin of telling a lie.

It will not be much out of place to point out that Kunti’s commitment to truth is not above questioning. She had lived with Pandu for some twenty years as his wife. In all these twenty years, Kunti hid from him the truth that she was an unwed mother. She does not reveal this to him even when he is desperate for a child and asks Kunti to beget children through other men as otherwise he would not be admitted into those worlds where only those with children could go. Pandu here lists the kind of sons that can save a man from this sad fate and one of the types on that list is a kanina son, a son born to a woman before her marriage. Still Kunti does not reveal the truth about her kanina son to Pandu. Hiding the truth is as bad as a lie, sometimes even worse. Hiding it from someone who loved her as Pandu did is definitely wicked, in spite of all the reasons Kunti had for doing so. What she had done was living a lie with him all those years, which is worse than telling a lie. Also, if she is so committed to the truth, she should have announced the truth about Karna’s birth to world at least in the arena where Bheema and others so pitilessly ridiculed him calling him a soota when he wanted to compete with Arjuna to prove the superiority of his martial skills.

I find it extremely difficult to believe that Kunti was really worried about ‘her words turning out to be a lie’ here. It is not an oath she has taken, it is not a vow, and by changing her words she wouldn’t be harming anyone – she would just be correcting an error she has made. If she was interested in saving Draupadi from a dire situation, if she wanted to avoid her five sons all marrying her together, she could easily have said sorry, she made a mistake, she didn’t mean it, it was all because of a misunderstanding. In fact, Krishna would go to the extent of saying that there are occasions when even a lie is superior to the truth – satyat jyeyo’nrtam vachah. [See Krishna: A Study in Transformational Leadership by the author – http://www.boloji.com/hinduism/136.htm]. No lie is needed here, just correcting one’s words spoken in misunderstanding. But of course Kunti had her reasons for wanting all the five brothers to marry Draupadi together.

Again, the person whom the marriage would affect more deeply than anyone else, Draupadi, does not speak here. It is not possible that she did not feel in her heart a protest against that for which she must have known she would be called a whore all her life. The feelings expressed by Dhrishtadyumna and Drupada are her feelings too. I do not think she looked upon her marriage with five men as a God-sent opportunity to satisfy her insatiable lust which her past life stories speak of. Draupadi exuded sexuality, she was irresistible to men, but nothing in the Mahabharata tells us that she was a nymphomaniac. But she doesn’t speak.[2]

Vyasa convinces Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna that the marriage is not only all right, it is the right thing to do, it has been destined. This marriage is what has been coming for her through several past births.

The marriage is decided. One by one, beginning with Yudhishthira, the brothers marry Draupadi. The marriages take place one day each, and the nights are nuptial nights for the pair to consummate their marriage. After the first wedding, Dhaumya, the Pandava priest, appears to have walked off. But the marriages are conducted anyhow.

The eloquent Draupadi, the assertive Draupadi, the powerful Draupadi, the fearless Draupadi, does not speak a word at any stage. She is completely, utterly silent through all these. So completely silent that it is difficult to believe she is the same woman who spoke so decisively in the swayamvara hall, would later speak so assertively in the dice hall, so eloquently in the Kamyaka forest, so movingly before Krishna’s mission for peace to Hastinapura before the war.

There is something wrong somewhere. For, Draupadi does not believe in letting things happen to her. She does not believe in floating with the river. She prefers to swim, if necessary against the current.  It is not her way to let her horses take her chariot where they will. She would have them take her where she wants to go. Occasionally, like all of us, she might talk of fate and destiny and things like that – but that is not she believes in. Hers is the path of purushartha, of human will and effort. She does not yield, she fights. A kshatrani, that is what she is, every least bit of her.

o0o

What I believe is that Draupadi’s words here have been erased off the epic as unpalatable. If history is written by the winners, so are epics. It is possible that during its long narrative history, much of what showed the Pandavas in a bad light has been erased off the Mahabharata. It is also possible that the Mahabharata told to Janamejaya itself was an acceptable form of the story of the Pandavas. Janamejaya was, after all, Arjuna’s great grandson.

I believe that Draupadi has been silenced in the chapters dealing with her post-swayamvara hours and days. Just as she has been deified by many to make her more acceptable. Just as she has been demonised as a bloodthirsty, nymphomaniac goddess when it was found that she could not be confined to the limits commonly allotted to women in India.

In the Bheel version of the Mahabharata, she is a dain, a witch, and her status is greater than that of God himself. During a festival at night, we see the Bheel Draupadi arriving on a roaring lioness to join a get-together of the gods – she is the last to arrive and when she arrives, God gets up from his seat to welcome her. God is seated on a silver throne, and Draupadi takes her seat on a golden throne.

That is what we do to powerful, eloquent, assertive women. Deify them. Demonise them. Or silence them.

A careful reading of the chapters dealing with Draupadi’s swayamvara and her marriage would show they are chockfull of inconsistencies. Proof that they have been tampered with – not once, but repeatedly.

Questioning women. Rebellious women. Subversive women. Powerful women. Assertive women. Eloquent women. Passionate women. Women with unerring intuitions. Women with strong instincts. Women with irrepressible impulses. Women with lust for life. All have to be silenced. Or deified. Or demonised.

In Women and Madness[3], Phyllis Chesler says there is yet another way: they could be institutionalised. Committed to lunatic asylums. 

That is our cultural necessity.

And that is our greatest tragedy.

o0o

Incidentally there is another occasion when Draupadi is silent: before Yudhishthira’s trip to Hastinapura from his capital Indraprastha for the game of dice at the height of his glory.

And many more, when you think of it.

o0o

Note: All translations from Sanskrit are by the author. The translations are free, rather than literal; at the same time care has been taken to see that they do not differ from the original in any significant details. Chapter and verse numbers refer to the Gita Press editions of the Valmiki Ramayana and the Mahabharata.