The kingdom was abuzz, the streets colorful with decorations and the palace standing apart majestically in its resplendent simplicity. Celebration permeated through the ambience. It was navaratri festival in Anga.
Naturally the queen of Anga was certainly busy. The brahmans and ascetics had begun streaming into the temples in large numbers. Draupadi stepped inside her palki headed towards the temples under royal patronage.
An entourage of servants was following her carrying food items, coins and other charity.
Out of all the palki rides she had in her life, which were not much, the one in her maiden days particularly stood out. It was there where her infatuation or was it love grew stronger roots, or should she call it the path of her, ruination?
People had called her marriage to the Pandavas as her destiny but she was now sure it wasn't.
She shook her head. She hated such confusions which would creep into her now and then. And like every other time she pushed it at the back of her mind.
She peeped through the silk curtains. They were almost near the temples. The throb of people's chatter came to her ears as she waited for a servant to announce their arrival any moment.
Her fingers kept entwining themselves in each other just as her nervousness kept oscillating between her unconscious and subconscious. This was the first time she was out of the palace all by herself.
Karna had taken her out with him on chariot rides through the countryside but he would do most of the talking with the few scattered masses. But now Karna had entrusted her with the responsibility of reaching out to the masses on this auspicious day too.
"Maharani we are here."
Curious eyes met her as she gracefully exited the palki. Some gaped, some watched with mixed opinions, while some bowed in deference, each doing what their respective natures dictated.
She took a step forward. The anklets Karna had gifted her jingled. A soft smile played on her lips as she walked ahead nodding in acknowledgement to members of the crowd.
Several looked at her expectantly. They had been waiting here for receiving charity and the hospitality of Anga.
"The King of Anga is so generous."
"There is no other such great daanveer yodha( generous warrior) in the whole of Aryavart."
The murmurs in praise of her husband made Draupadi smile to herself, handing over some gold to a poor young boy. But public opinions are never steady.
"The Maharaj is generous but his Maharani..."
"She had five husbands and she left them. Our Maharaj deserved better."
"He is so kind and magnanimous he actually considers her his wife."
"The palace staff is said to revere her."
"I heard she had rejected him at her swayamvar and now look at her."
"Even if he had to marry her he didn't have to give her so much importance."
"She is following her husband's footsteps in running the kingdom."
"I heard the Maharaj trusts her with matters of the state."
"I wonder if the Maharaj is making a mistake."
"Anga needs an heir but it still seems far away."
Draupadi's felt dizzy at this public discussion of herself and her husband such hushed voices. Her hands were mechanically doing their work with a plastic smile plastered on her face. She needed to be strong. She wouldn't show herself to be vulnerable again.
"Maharani" said a shrill voice.
She turned around to find a little girl probable 6 or 7 years holding a bright orange flower. She noticed another girl probably 10 or 11 years old peeping at them from a corner of the temple wall. She deduced them to be sisters.
"Is that for me?" Draupadi asked sweetly.
"Yes Maharani" she said nodding shyly.
"Oh thank you."
But to Draupadi's great surprise she put her hands behind her back.