The views of a woman of kalyug

Swayamvar

Finally, the day arrived. The day she would belong to someone else.

Draupadi looked at the reflection in front of her. Her curly hair was heavy with droplets and wee friend and beautifully decorated in a thick braid and adorned with gold. Maid after maid stood in line as they jeweled her and draped her in a lehenga of maroon made of the finest silk ever touched. She was adorned with heavy earrings and intricate heavy necklaces which were the house of precious gems. Her hands were heavy with bangles and heavy kalire.

Krishnaa adored herself in the mirror as the maids looked open-eyed at the sight before them.

The blood-red lehenga shone against her body and hugged it giving a view of her perfect curves and deeps. Her waist was adorned with a heavy gold kamar Patti that was adorned in rubies and emeralds that hung down her slim altar-like waist. Conch shell-shaped neck was hidden behind a heavy choker adorned with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. A Nath of the same design hung from her life while the bead of golden and ruby swung from it and played with her rose petals-like lips. Her lips were coated under the crushed petals of the red rose. And her eyes... They looked mesmerizing lined with kohl. Her forehead was decorated with a big red bindi in the middle that had a symbol of fire in it as if reminding the people about her birth and several smaller white and red ones over her eyebrows. Her mang tikka was looking more gorgeous on her.

Lucky her husband will be...

They thought. Not known to the storm in her heart. Krishnaa twirled around admiring herself when her mother and sister came inside. She touched their feet as they blessed her happily. Her mother caressed her head and kissed her forehead before taking her to the hallway. Everyone had a smiling face but all of them looked sad too. They didn't get time with her before she could leave them.

She descended the stairs and entered the big place that was decorated purely for her swayamvar. The place was crowded with people. Kings and princes from all over Aryabhatta have come over and many others have come to witness the divine swayamvaar. Soon she ascended to the throne that was assigned to her and addressed the people.

The lotus smell spread everywhere as the gossiping kings looked up from their conversation. And once they looked, their eyes never moved away from the sheer beauty clad in the color of flames and dazzling among the sparkling ornaments. Their eyes looked at her to fulfill the thirst

"Pranipat, O wise and respected men of Arybhatta, I, Yagyaseni Drupadnandini Krishnaa, the youngest princess of Panchal welcome you all to this beautiful city of Kampilya. Thank you a lot for gracing this holy moment of my swayamvar with your presence."

Even though more than 95% of you have arrogance in the name of your brain, still according to customs I have to call you wise. And believe me I held no gratitude that you all came here with your lustful desires O respected kings.

She sat down on her seat and witnessed Govind suppressing a laugh. He knows and she knows that he knows.

Krishnaa gazed everywhere. All the princes and royalties and every other person looked dazzled and she felt disgusted as their intense gaze fell on her. She wanted to claw their eyes out. No one has ever seen her with those looks. She is intimidating and people usually kept their heads low in front of her as a sign of fear and respect. The only person who tried to do was ruined totally. His business sank and he went bankrupt. People knew better than to look at her like that.

She sat there as her brother Dristyadyum, declared the task set by her father. To win her, the person should be able to lift the divine kindhura. Then string it with the metal strings which didn't look like an easy task at all. The person had to have a good grip and knowledge of Physics and posture. Not to forget a lot of strength to lift and string it and the patience to wait for the right time.

"Pranipaat princess," two voices rang near her ears as she gazed back, her lips twitching in a smirk as she looked at her personal maid and personal bodyguard. There was a sweet mocking in their voices that made her shake her heads. They are the only ones who could mock her. After all

Janam janam ka rista hai...

Pooja stared at the stadium blankly. Kings known for their strength are not able to lift the bow. Neither Karn nor Shalya and to her relief, not the princes of karkipur.

Perhaps I won't get married today.

She looked happier than she did in the entire swayamvar as her gaze went back to the karkipuri princes, the desire of clawing out their limbs and rip apart their bodies took over her senses as their lustful gaze fell on her.

Soon...soon your ashes will seep down the very Earth. And your eyes...

Her smirk became prominent with her gaze getting intense on them.

I will personally decorate them in a jar so that people may know what happens with people like you.

She looked back at the stadium and thanked the divine bow before a man in rags caught her orbs. The man was perhaps a brahmin who was cladded in a rugged saffron which was washed down to its last colour. A garland of rudraksh adorned his hands and his front hair was pushed back and tied in a side bun. His forehead was smeared with ashes and his beard reached his chest and tangled themselves in a never ending loops just like his back length hair. But his eyes.... Like a whirlpool of amber tinting itself in gold and jeweled in confidence and experience.

"Thunder" she whispered as she looked at the man who was like a thunder among the dark cloud.

Who is he?

"What?" Neil or rather Karthik spoke as he twitched his eyes looking back at the brahmin again.

"Why is he moving forward? Don't tell me he is gonna try too." Sheetal spoke looking at the man worriedly. Something about this man was not prosaic to her.

"Let him," Pooja spoke "let's see what fate planned for me. It's not like I have a choice anyway."

"I am sure he won't be able to win. I mean look at the man, he barely has two meals a day." Karthik commented only to get a hmmm from Sheetal.

"Surety, karthik?" Pooja turned to face the ravenhead with endless pool of brown as she commented.

"Surety is nothing but the joke that fate plays with you. Even if you are 99% sure, fate will take the 1% to turn the table of events."

"Afterall" Pooja spoke lightheartedly as a playful smile grazed on the maroon petals. "Destiny is nothing but a chariot on the journey named life and fate...fate is the reign holder."

She spoke as she gazed back at the man who had joined his hands together as a form of respect.

He was no brahmin. No brahmin walk like that of a Ksatriya and he walks like a lion. His confidence speaks volume against the shabby washed out cotton. You are not what you show...but then...neither am I. It's gonna be fun...a lot of fun... afterall you caught my interest .

"Don't" karthik screeched as he looked at the unpredictable woman before him. "Don't tell me you want him to win."

"I don't want this swayamvar to happen," she hissed sharply as a mad glint flickered in her orbs " but look here I sit. As a self sacrificial goat."

"Calm down," Sheetal spoke. "He is the last one."

She tried to calm herself not knowing the power of the last one.

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Jai shree Krishna 🙏