Week 9 Story: Draupadi's Personal Pandava Perspective

Draupadi was used to the country's fascination with her family. They could hardly go anywhere without being swarmed by unsolicited street artists, pro-tip-wanting warrior-wannabes, and star-struck ladies bearing babies for blessing. The constant presence of the paparazzi was almost as exhausting as the unceasingly positive reports of the five bastions of perfection she had for travel companions. Draupadi could only re-read the same excellence-extolling crap so many times before wanting to douse herself in fish food and jump in the Ganges. Had she any less decorum, she would have found a reporter and given them the scoop on the real people behind the incessant idolatry long ago.

For starters, Yudhishthira, for all of his "steadfast nature" and "virtuous morality", NEVER did his share of the chores on time. He was far too busy mooning over some moral dilemma in an infuriatingly tranquil way to bother with something as menial as dish duty. When he did get to his tasks, which he always would eventually, he was so frustratingly slow and methodical Draupadi often wondered why he even bothered at all. And while he wasn't one to whine about it, his bullish tendency to demand rematches made family game night an absolute Naraka.

And Bhima! His "strength of a hundred elephants" extended beyond his physical abilities to a clinical case of musophobia, a fear of mice which went poorly with his considerable anger management issues. The number of tables he flipped during dinner debates prompted the Pandavas to eat on a very posh picnic blanket instead. In addition, his selfishness was the root cause of many conflicts. Though his mastery of the culinary arts was comprehensive, any issues with his cooking led inevitably to a temper tantrum with the capacity to level a small town.

Arjuna, the golden boy. His mastery of weapons, both physical and celestial, combined with his unmatched archery prowess and dashing good looks, contributed to his immense popularity. His public image would certainly be marred if the people of India knew that he was actually one of the most awkward small-talkers on the planet. Draupadi often wished he could insert his foot into his mouth with the same prowess he exhibited when striking down his formidable foes.

Nakula: The horseman of the five, Nakula was well known for his capable charioteering...but what the public didn't know was that his chariots were arguably more precious to him than his children. So many times Draupadi had to talk frustrated travelers down when their spots were taken up by Nakula's minimum two-space requirement- he mandated a necessary "cushion of protection" for all of his vehicles, and the time he spent maintaining them bordered on obsessive.

Sahadeva: The most reserved of the brothers and a capable cowherder, Sahadeva possessed the approximate table manners of his many bovine charges. Watching and listening to him slurp down andra chapala pulusu was an experience nearly more nauseating than the time Drona had ordered the young archer to cut off his thumb all those years ago. In addition, though his proficiency with livestock was unparalleled, his utter ineptitude with anything remotely technological (and subsequent unwillingness to ask for help) had gotten the family into their fair share of pickles over the years.

Draupadi wasn't to say that her husbands were comprised entirely of faults, but she often wished the public knew that they weren't the paragons of perfection the press made them out to be. After all, when she was often dragged through the mud for her vanity, maintenance, and fabricated infidelity, it was only fair that the people become familiar with a few of the rest of the family's flaws. They were only human, after all.

Well...half.

Author's Note: As I revisited the Mahabharata this week, I found myself occupied with how the Pandava brothers, though not always successful, are almost always portrayed as perfect, god-like, and virtuous. Some of the most successful stories and franchises in more contemporary times have resonated with audiences by deconstructing the perfect protagonist and showing their more flawed, human sides. Examples include: the difference between the Batmans of Adam West and Christian Bale; and looking at how Tony Stark's Avengers character is summed up in-movie with both of the following descriptions: "volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others" and "genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist." I thought I'd have a little fun by exploring potential downsides to the brothers' skills, like how Bhima's elephantine strength may have come hand-in-hand with an elephantine fear of mice. And who better to complain a bit about the Pandavas than Draupadi, who has the inside perspective? It was also amusing to consider how the Pandavas' celebrity would translate to potential paparazzi. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing!
Naraka: Indian mythology's version of hell.
Andra chapala pulusu: a type of fish curry/soup dish indigenous to South India.

Bibliography: PDE Mahabharata.
Epified Mahabharata: Karmic Revolution. Episode 11- Sons of Pandu. Source: YouTube. Link.

Image Info: The cover art for Badrinath Chatu's book, The Women of the Mahabharata.
Source: Amazon.com. Link.