Natyam | A Mahabharata Fiction

13.

The palanquin swayed, lazy and languid in movement. Inside, I was seated with cushions spread everywhere and perfume spritzed in every possible crevice of the palanquin.

I sighed. Tired.

Hastinapur had been tiring.

The nobility of the land had all stalked to the palace to behold the new Kuru daughter-in-law. The second one. They smiled in awe or in malice. I was the picture of diplomacy and tact. I would not break too many rules as a new member of the family. That would come later.

Outside the palanquin, an army of servants trailed behind, bearing the gifts we had received from the guests and Maharani Gandhari herself. I could hear their tired footfalls and sighed again.

Being perfect was too much work. Even an attempt to be a vision of perfection was too much work.

And I happened to love myself; perfect or no. And yet, I had done remarkably better than Draupadi. So I was told by my new mother-in-law. Rajmata Kunti had looked at me with sharp affection. Graciousness effused her speech as she confessed the success of my arrival as a daughter-in-law. The compliment did not mean much, for I would not compete with a woman. Much less a woman who was a complete stranger.

But Arjun beamed proudly, gazing at his mother then me. His eyes were glowing as he hugged me in our private chambers. Clearly, his mother's validation meant a lot to him.

But it was Bhishma Pitamah's validation that seemed to content him the most.

I had been speaking to the Kuru General when I spotted Arjun hiding behind a tree, eavesdropping. I let him. Let him see how his wife does with his relatives.

That night, he rushed into our room. "You made him smile!" Arjun exclaimed, holding my palms.

I remember smiling.

"He never smiles," Arjun mumbled as he kissed my cheek and embraced me. I remember pressing my nose close to his shoulders. He smelled fresh and.... otherworldly.

Love and affection had never come with difficulty to either of us. I was comfortable in his arms. As much as he was in mine. Kisses were given and taken effortlessly. We slept together, my back to his chest and his arms wrapped around my waist.

The nights were blissful.

The days were nothing short of cumbersome. Especially the day we had a private dinner with the elders of the house.

There was staunch silence as the men ate. Maharaj Dhritarashtra was a blind man, in both senses and in logic. While you would consider a blind man to have heightened awareness in other fields, the king did not. He was unaware of his own household as they schemed and plotted on his behalf. He was pompous and arrogant and pretended to be all-knowing. It took effort to not grind my teeth.

Maharani Gandhari was a simple woman, who had lost herself to helplessness. She had a simpering smile, as if she were lost. I found it disturbing. To be lost in your own home. But it hardly seemed like she was the leading lady in this house. I remember silently hoping I would not be like her. For she believed she was a helpless woman, unable to do anything on her own (another thing that I did not particularly approve of).

It was her brother, Shakuni, whose presence disturbed me the most. He had a crooked smile and an eternally slanted look in his eyes. He eyed me carefully—a sharp, cursory glance that no one would notice—before his lips twitched into what he thought to be a smile. I smiled through the whole thing.

Arjun put a hand on my back. I remember sending a grateful look to him as I conversed with Shakuni.

With such an antagonistic environment, it was no wonder people felt irked under the shadow of the palace. No wonder Draupadi did not fare as well, whatever that was supposed to mean. Kunti took it upon herself to make me feel as comfortable as possible. She failed.

The only person who did not seem lost to propaganda, scheming and unduly heavy emotions was Kakashree Vidur.

He gave me a gracious smile, welcoming me into his home, making me comfortable. I remember him and his wife silently doting on me and doling out some work that I could do. It felt good to do some work. They reminded me of my own parents. I enjoyed the time I spent with him and his spouse.

The palanquin was brought to a halt and set down.

Hurriedly, I stepped out and dismissed all the fluttering maidservants buzzing around the palanquin curtains.

I walked straight to my husband.

He was still on the chariot. Sensing my shuffling feet, he turned behind to behold me.

Smiling, he said, "What can I do for you, Rajkumari?"

"Tell me we are almost here. This palanquin is going to make me dizzy."

Arjun's skin glowed as he laughed softly. He pulled me up onto the chariot. With a dramatic gesture of his arm, he said, "Look what stands over there."

Big moment.

I looked up to my new home. The home that would be mine for the rest of time. The home that would see our family grow and blossom.

I let out a yell of surprise.

Arjun laughed. "You have a beautiful smile, priye."

I grinned and stared up at the palace. Spires and domes. A beautiful vivid blue painted across white marble. Gardens, lush and bright with colour. I smiled a smile to rival a thousand diyas.

Then, I stepped down from the chariot and walked towards the rest of my future.

*****
The most exciting part begins soon! The Pandavas and Panchaali shall show up in the life of our heroine. What do you think? Let me know!

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