The Mahabharata by R. K. Narayan Page B

back every bit we have lost so far…. She is our symbol of luck and prosperity, now I will stake her….”
    When Yudhistira said this, there was an outcry of protest in the assembly. Vidura hung down his head, unable to bear the spectacle. Dussasana and Karna laughed derisively. Dhritarashtra, alternating between righteous conduct and bias towards his son, could not contain himself, but eagerly asked, “Has she been won, has she been won?” He heard the dice roll and Sakuni say with gusto, “Yes, Maharaja, I have won….”
    Duryodhana jumped up and embraced his uncle in sheer joy and cried, “You are… you are a master, a great master indeed. None your equal in the seven worlds….” Then he turned to Vidura and commanded, “Go, get that beloved wife of the Pandavas. Let her learn her duties as a sweeper of the chambers of noble men, and how to wait on their pleasure…. Go, bring her….”
    Vidura was infuriated and replied, “You jackal in human form, don’t talk. You are provoking the tigers. When destruction begins, it will be total, caused by you and your indulgent, thoughtless father. Even now it is not too late… don’t utter such irresponsible, sinful words….”
    Duryodhana turned to an attendant. “This Vidura has lost his sense and is raving. He does not like us; he is the jackalin our midst. You go and tell Panchali that she is no longer a princess but a slave won by us and that we command her to come hither, without a moment’s delay….”
    The attendant hurried on to Draupadi’s chambers and conveyed the message apologetically. In a short while he returned. “She has asked me to bring back an answer to this question, ‘Whom did Yudhistira lose first, me or himself? Whose lord were you at the time you lost me?’” He addressed the question to Yudhistira, who looked at the floor, unable to face anyone.
    At this moment Duryodhana ordered, “Let her first come, and then put the question to her late lord herself; and the assembly shall hear the words that pass between them.” The messenger went to Draupadi and again came back without her. Duryodhana asked him to go out a third time. When this attendant hesitated, he turned to his brother Dussasana and said, “Perhaps this fellow is a coward, afraid of this ruffian, Bhimasena, but he doesn’t know he can do nothing now, being our slave…. Go and bring her without a moment’s delay. She has no right to question and dawdle. She is a puppet for us to handle. Go and bring her here.”
    When Dussasana appeared, Draupadi said again, “I must have an answer to my question. Did Yudhistira lose me before or after he lost himself?”
    â€œWhat is that to you?” asked Dussasana.
    She replied, “If he had lost himself first, he could have no right to stake me, and so… ”
    â€œStop your argument. Will you follow me to the assembly or not?” As he approached her, she shrank back saying, “I cannot come before any one today… I am in the woman’s month… I am clad in a single wrap… go away….” She tried to escape him by attempting to run into the women’s apartments. Dussasana sprang on her, seized her by the hair, and dragged her along to the assembly hall….
    â€œI am in my monthly period… clad in a single piece….”
    â€˜Whether in your season or out of it, or clad in one pieceor none, we don’t care. We have won you by fair means and you are our slave….’
    With her tresses and sari in disarray through Dussasana’s rude handling, Draupadi looked piteous as she stood in the centre of that vast assembly facing the elders and guests. “This is monstrous,” she cried. “Is morality gone? Or else how can you be looking on this atrocity? There are my husbands—five, not one as for others—and they look paralysed! While I