Draupadi’s Choice

A swayamvara Father told me I would have. No marriage of convenience for me, no mere political arrangement. I was Draupadi, and kings would vie for my hand, and from amongst the supplicants, I would smile upon the one who stirred my heart. So Father avowed.

What was this farce then? Shooting an arrow through a fish’s eye to win my favour? Father spoke an untruth. This was no swayamvara - there was no choice here. This was but a puerile contest of acrobatic skill, of base musculature. Not so would my soul find its mate, nor my heart its companion.

Nay, Draupadi would not be won so cheaply. I would speak.

I renounce this swayamvara, Father. Banish me if you must.

Return to your kingdoms, O noble suitors. No consort shall you find hither. I am Draupadi, daughter of kings, born of the sacred fire, and I shall have my choice.

Thus I addressed them. And departed.