DRAUPADI - 82

  

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty's 

DRAUPADI - 82

The Eighteen Day War

 

The first day's sun hanging half mast

in the winter sky turned pale seeing

the two armies poised for annihilation

of Bharat's present and future - but

the sun watched and perhaps heard

Arjuna's melancholy Blues and Krishna's

philosophic wisdom but was woken up

to shocked attention when the Panchajanya*

sounded the knell of all reputations.

 

Restless Draupadi took care of the stores

supervised the food and other needs

of the chariot warriors and womenfolk

all the time keeping her eyes and ears

for views and news from the battle front.

 

At the sunset hour Draupadi

all dressed up in greeting smiles

waits for her husbands' return

bruised, blood sticking in patches

purple spotted warriors in tired pride

and welcomes them with her glowing eyes.

She greets Krishna saying - Sakha!

What have you brought for your Sakhi   -

Sweaty darkness and aching limbs  -

Come I will wash you with lily dew,

she cleans the wounds of her husbands

feeds them together, Krishna at the centre,

listens to their losses in silent respect

makes them sleep a few hours and is ready

when they leave for the battle grounds

in graceful military gear to tempt their

fate for combative glory and safe return.

 

Evenings come with horror goblins

moving around figures lying like

dummy fairies dismembered stiff

some armless voices cry for water

in the void of life in heaps of flesh.

Draupadi listens to stories of bravery

disenchanted by death on either side.

Bhisma's commandership frightens all

the earth fears extinction, counters

weaken, the will suffers pangs of gloom

nights pass in sleepless clash of swords

endless swish of arrows flaming death

to glorious crowns on tall chariots.

Mornings come to mock at,

survivors to strain their luck again

balloons burst like swollen pride

of the rain of arrows and thunder

of maces for uncompromising fall.

The Kurukshetra trembles in quaking fear.

Draupadi waits in restless agitation

for the endgame of all verbosities.

Waits for a green silence beyond

victory defeat, truth lies foe and friend.

 

*panchajanya: The name of Krishna's conch.