Draupadi

I stare down from the stars
Wonder where the story changed course
Being portrayed as cause of the wars
When I was jeered at and humiliated by force?


Being shared by five men was written in my fate
I was not loved and wed, but a prize for their skill
I never felt belonged was just served on a plate
A plate you could pass on when you had your fill


I still wonder the way they staked me for dice
Was I a partner for life, prize or property?
Palace stood helpless, witness of the vice
Now they raise a brow; put a mark on my chastity?


Yet I hear the stories being told below
Kurukshetra was a great war, Draupadi sowed the seed
A woman caused the war, meaning the men were mellow?
I had only lived my life serving their need and feed


No, the war was not due to need of power and greed of land
No, the war was not due to injustice served and ego of the clans
No, the war was not due to wronged men and righteous stand
No, the war was not due to game of dice and scheming plans


The war was due to a woman and her coveted beauty
The war was due to her revenge, which they felt was their duty
Strange are the reasons, stranger are the prejudices
The blame lies with me, while they are remembered for their virtues!!

 

Pic courtesy:www.hinduyuva.org

 

This poem is meant to put forward a possible angle of Draupadi's feelings.

It's purpouse is not to question/demean any of our great epic characters.

 

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Yet Again

An attempt to write few lines, from a prostitute’s take on life.

I always had a dream, a dream of love

For a man in my life, for a caring soul

Destiny had its laugh, played its game from above

It gave me a line of men, didn’t hear my cries of foul

I always sigh, if I could love and wed

Yet again I stare, at the unmade bed

No I won’t, I won’t tell you why I do this

You always see the sun, not the shadow it causes

Your eyes see only flesh, not the life it misses

Oh, if you could only see my heart, its wounds and gashes

I wail and cry until I am all sore

Yet again I wait, for a knock on my door

Yes I do, I do grieve for myself

I grieve for my dreams but I don’t regret

I did what I had to; in times of need

At least I don’t hide behind a pretext

I wake up at twilight, willing it to be surreal

Yet again I gear, for another night’s ordeal

I still have my head held high; I have my heart pristine

I still have dreams in my eyes; I have a smile on my lips

I still care in my heart; I have compassion for thy

Yet again I sleep; this is my life’s eclipse.

Yet again I stare, at the unmade bed

Yet again I wait, for a knock on my door

Yet again I gear, for another ordeal

Yet again I sleep, if you call that so