Monday, April 20, 2015

Q for Quiescence



While quiescence can be a virtue at times, in love it can leave a lacuna, and a longing to be loved. Love needs expression; you cannot just love and leave.

This is a tale of two people, who loved each other. The love was never lost, but it never found its rightful expression and left the protagonist aching and hurt.

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Draupadi sat inside the royal bath, tears streaming down her face. She sat devoid of her robes, unmindful of the maids looking at the bruises on her bare body.

What use are these robes that cover my outer body? The honor and dignity that covered my soul is gone, she rued.

Her long lustrous hair fell to her knees, messy and unfettered. Her kohl had breached its boundaries, flowing freely out of her eyes, past her pink fluid lips. Her maids poured milk strewn with petals of rose on her, and as the milk touched her skin, it bubbled with the heat emanating from her.

“Colder…” she screamed, with pain ridden voice and the maids rushed to get pots of cold milk for her.

No matter how cold, the milk refused to soothe her.

“Leave,” she commanded her maids, with a flick of her wrist. Warm blood continued to ooze out of the fresh wound on her wrist, formed by her broken bangles, as Dusshasan dragged her to the court.

The maids looked at the wound, trying to decide if they should bandage it first, and then they looked at her eyes. No, she needed to be left alone to heal her wounds in solitude.

All alone, Draupadi sat immersed in the tub of milk and roses and closed her eyes.

“Why Parth, why?” she said looking at the exquisite emerald ring Arjuna had put on her finger after the swayamvar.

“Your quiescence kills me Parth….” she thundered, and the echoes of her screams shook the pillars in the room. “What is it that seals your lips? Why cannot you speak?” she shook with uncontrollable anger, and as her body convulsed into spasms of indignation, she held on to the sides of the tub, breathing heavily for several minutes, before her muscles relaxed and her body loosened and slid into the pool of milk.

She remained drowned till she could hold her breath no more and as she emerged, the anger in her eyes had been replaced with tears, 

“It was your quiescence that led to me being shared amongst your brothers, Parth. You shocked me into a stunned silence that matched yours, but I accepted your judgment. I loved you Parth, and I wanted to be yours alone.” She reminisced about that day, about how her heart had fluttered as she garlanded Arjuna, the most handsome and capable archer and how she had dreamt of a perfect life with him, and almost like a curse her dreams had come crashing down.

And then the tears turned into an ache.

“It was your quiescence that sent you into exile for twelve years. My body ached for you, Parth, and my heart longed to hear words of love. I have pined for you in every moment of your absence. Did you not long for me like I did, Parth?

Chitrangada, Subhadra, Uloopi….you showered them all with your love. Why did you forget me, Parth?”

It was beyond her understanding, why he would love her so briefly and then forsake her like he had never loved.

And he had done that again today. She should have known. Why had his silence shocked her? He had been quite predictable. Her eyes had turned a fiery crimson and the scenes from the day gone by flashed before them.

“Today your arch rival Karna called me a whore; did it not make your blood boil, Parth?
Dusshasana dragged me by my wrist,” she looked at the clot of blood that was beginning to form at the site of the wound, “and then by my hair, and you kept silent? Why Parth? Did you not want to chop those hands that dared to touch your Paanchali?
Duryodhana ordered me to sit on his thigh, and you said not a word. I died a thousand deaths not by his disgraceful words, but by the silence that adorned your lips.”

And with that she broke into fits of delirious sobbing. She had loved Arjuna the most, but he had always chosen quiescence over expressing his love towards her, leaving a void in her heart, that stayed till she lived.

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This day..Last Year.... Q for Quiet

18 comments:

  1. Silence of your loved ones hurts us the most. Somehow I have always been fascinated by the character of Draupadi. Well written :)

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  2. Veyr true.. when the person you love the most choose silence over you,it really hurts

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  3. Draupadi's love for Arjunais well known.Very touching desription.

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  4. Ohh, poor Draupadi. I think this is the saddest A-Z post I've read! :(

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  5. It is true, in the end, we do not remember the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. The pain and anguish of Draupadi has been expressed so beautifully, S! Awesome piece of writing!

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  6. So true, loved the way you have expressed Draupadi's grief and sorrow! Great going!!

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  7. And how silence hurts!

    I did not know this side of the story either. I'm falling in love with the theme you have chosen here :)

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  8. Oh no, this was so very sad... Lisa, co-host AtoZ 2015, @ http://www.lisabuiecollard.com

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  9. I feel so bad for her :( How could Arjuna do that to her when he loved her?

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  10. A wonderfully expressed plot. Never came across such an exquisitely detailed account of Draupadi's feelings after the game of dice!!

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  11. It's so painful when a loved one chooses to be silent rather than speak up or do anything to defend or protect us.

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  12. I think I read in your blog itself somewhere about this love Draupadi had for Parth, or perhaps it was implied. But I like how you have narrated it and brought it out! :)

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  13. I feel so sorry for Draupadi. The words of our enemies are less hurtful than the silence of the ones we love.
    *Shantala @ ShanayaTales*

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  14. Could relate to her pain and anguish. When your loved ones don't stand up for you, don't speak up for you, you feel let down like nothing else. As if they betray you with their silence.

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  15. Very visually stunning, the way you describe it, especially in the beginning!

    @TarkabarkaHolgy from
    Multicolored Diary - Epics from A to Z
    MopDog - 26 Ways to Die in Medieval Hungary

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  16. You ask me! I can truly relate to Draupadi's emotions. Your way of writing has hooked me somewhere and the HOOK is pinching. You know very well to articulate the emotions.
    Reciprocation of love is what most of us seek in a relationship. Poor She!

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  17. What a story! I can visualise it to well in my mind! Your words paint vivid pictures indeed Little Princess :) Poor Draupadi! As I delve more into Mahabharata, I am losing respect for the Pandavas.

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  18. Such complicated associations. Poor Draupadi, the one she loved the most loved another more.

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At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person..deep gratitude for those who have lighted the flame within me!! your comments will be appreciated..

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