читать дальше“But my husband is Arjuna, your own brother…” Draupadi turned imploringly towards Arjuna, willing him to speak. But Arjuna, the mighty warrior, would not meet her eyes and turned away, his heart unaccountably filled with shame. But was he not following dharma?
Draupadi looked at her mother-in-law. “Mother, I hope these are all the sons you have.”
“Why... why do you ask, daughter?” Kunti’s voice had lost all its usual authority. She averted her gaze from the young Princess standing so proudly before her.
“So I do not wake one day to find myself wife to half a dozen men. I am sure there are enough scriptural authorities to prove that too, would be my dharma.”
Later, as Draupadi lay on her bed like deadwood, she did not think about Arjuna, the great archer who had won her, or Yudhishtra, lying asleep beside her. Her eyes were filled with the image of a man slipping away like a chastised dog from her father’s splendid Court. Her mind and body felt violated, defeated and numb. Her own words, ‘I will not marry a Suta,’ screamed back at her endlessly in the deafening silence.
Эх, упустила мужика, упустила