Week 6 Story: Amba's Resolution

As of three days before The Competition, Amba was- quite literally- a happy camper. After a lovely night of spelunking, s’mores, and a truly gorgeous sunrise, she snuck back into the palace a newly engaged woman. Her new fiancée even satisfied the two royal betrothal requirements: a well-funded title and a Y-chromosome. Amba had never been in love: barring a hand-holding fling with one of the stableboys at the age of six, men consistently failed to catch her interest. Unfortunately, this made for a rather dull adolescence, as her only purpose seemed to be to get hitched and provide an heir As Soon As Possible. As a teenager, Amba figured her two sisters could alleviate some of the family pressure to get married, and hoped to live a happy life on the palace grounds with her tigers and trashy romance novels, resigned to the fact that love, true love, was even more mythical than the area’s “flying glass chariot” reports from a few decades before.

This attitude changed, however, once she met her Sal. All the signs were present: the clammy hands, butterflies in the stomach, gentle-manly blush, and (borderline unacceptably) lengthy, soulful eye contact. He was bright, amiable, rich, hot, a good conversationalist, and not twice her age, which, all told, added up to a major win. Amba just wanted a quick engagement, shotgun wedding with a jungle priest, honeymoon in Sri Lanka, and the subsequent advertised life of married bliss. She was in the process of picking the names of her first five children when her father summoned his three daughters one morning for a quick chat. Fast-forward past the competition, speed-bethrothal, veritable kidnapping, begging for freedom, and getting brutally rejected, and Amba found herself aimlessly high-tailing it out of the city in a palpable cloud of rage.
A few weeks of fasting and waiting for the red haze to clear, Amba took a cold, calculated look at her situation. After three days and three nights, her ruminations determined who was to be held responsible. Amba first acknowledged her own fault in the debacle- her fixation on the alluring nature of her secret affair was what had allowed her to be dragged into the mess in the first place. Though Sal was perhaps the most heartbreaking cause of her unhappiness, he was far from the biggest culprit. That honor went to Bhishma. And so, in righteous rage, Amba called upon Shiva, the Destroyer, to make a demand.
When the god of destruction appeared, Amba was ready for just about any request:
"Throw yourself onto a funeral pyre" Sounds alright!
"Raise an army of vampires and wage war on his kingdom" Sure! I'm prepared!
"Spend years in the underbelly of the crime world and return as an unbeatable masked vigilante" No problem!
"Turn into a man", however, was not on that list. To end Bhishma, Amba was willing to give her body and soul, but the one thing she could not agree to was relinquishing being a woman. And so, she bargained with Shiva some more:
"I'm sorry, O Supreme Being, but I just can't do this as a dude."
Shiva's brow furrowed. "Is the death and humiliation of Bhishma not what you want? If you've interrupted my consulting hours for an average request, I must let you know that the only prerequisite is a few hours of reverent yoga. The price of requests other than death is nothing so drastic as the grueling fast you've subjected yourself to for the sake of my attention."
Amba was quick to correct him. "No, Lord, I still want Bhishma to suffer a painful, brutal end, I'm just- respectfully- saying that I'd rather be the one responsible as a woman, if it's all the same to you."
Shiva's nose wrinkled. "I know not how you can become a fierce warrior as a lady. It'd be almost impossible for you to commit homicide in your current state. When it comes to murder, men are simply superior."
Amba returned to her mental state of pure calculation, deciding that a gentle challenge guised as playing to the god's ego would be her best chance at a boon sans a gender switcheroo. "Oh, but almighty Shiva, if anyone could enable a woman to become a fierce warrior, their image would be known throughout all of India for accomplishing such an impossible feat! Imagine the offerings! The temples! Prime real estate location! Only the most powerful of all the gods could pull it off, and they'd live on in history, popular and worshiped until the end of time."
Shiva heard this request, reflected, and understood where Amba was coming from.
"Fine, woman. I will do as you ask. Together, we will find a way for you to eradicate the source of your ire, not as a man, but as who you already are."
"Sweet" said Amba. "When do we start?"

Author's Note: I was intrigued by the character of Amba in the Mahabarata this week- she is a princess secretly bethrothed to her true love, a prince from a neighboring kingdom. After her father's impromptu competition to sell off his daughters to the fittest in the land, she finds herself having to beg to be set free, for her heart lies with another. Upon her return, however, her fiancee brutally rejects her, and she sets off with the goal-oriented plot to use herself as an instrument of revenge on the prince she feels is responsible for her pain. In the story, the god Shiva agrees to grant her wish, but insists she return as a man to achieve her aim. I considered what would happen if the story were roughly the same, but with the minor tweak of Amba insisting that she can make her dream come true as a woman instead. 

Bibliography: PDE Mahabarata. Source: Link.

Chapters: Bhishma at the Swayamvara, Amba

Authors: Arnold, Besant, Devee, Dutt, Ganguli, Kincaid, Macfie, Mackenzie, Nivedita, Seeger, Tagor

A Javanese puppet rendering of Amba.
Source: Wikipedia. Link.