She approached me with measured, elegant steps, her graceful figure bathed in the soft moonlight. After our brief exchange of glances, I returned my gaze to the night sky, trying to dispel the awkward silence that hung in the air. Beside me, Dusshala stood in regal silence, her presence adding an ethereal touch to the enchanting night.
Unable to bear the weight of the lingering silence any longer, I mustered the courage to shatter it with a straightforward inquiry, "Can't sleep?" She responded with a concise, "No," and then returned her gaze to the starry expanse above. However, the uncomfortable tension persisted between us, akin to an unspoken truth yearning to be unveiled.
In the epic of the Mahabharata, Dusshala emerges as a figure steeped in both beauty and tragedy. Born as the only daughter among the hundred Kaurava brothers, her story begins with a remarkable and mystical twist. Her mother, Queen Gandhari, had been granted a boon by the sage Dwaipayana Vyasa, also known as Veda Vyasa. It was a boon of unparalleled magnitude—a wish for a century of sons, each endowed with strength and abilities equal to her husband, King Dhritarashtra, who possessed the strength of a hundred elephants.
However, the unfolding of this boon took an unusual and protracted course. Gandhari's pregnancy extended for two long years, a period filled with anticipation and impatience. As time passed, and news of Kunti, the queen of King Pandu, giving birth to the eldest Pandava, Yudhishthira, reached Gandhari, frustration and jealousy welled up within her. She struck her belly in anguish, venting her dissatisfaction.
Yet, this act had a profound consequence—one that would forever alter her destiny. Instead of a child, a "hard mass of flesh" resembling an "iron ball" was born to her. The Kuru elders, perplexed and alarmed, contemplated discarding this strange creation.
In that crucial moment, the sage Vyasa arrived, sensing the divine plan at work. Gandhari confessed her jealousy of Kunti and her discontent with the boon. Vyasa, unwavering in his commitment to truth, assured her that he had granted her boon faithfully.
To rectify the situation, Vyasa commanded that a hundred pots of clarified butter be brought forth immediately, along with cool water to be sprinkled over the enigmatic mass. It was during this mysterious and sacred process that Gandhari, with unwavering devotion and longing in her heart, expressed her wish for a daughter—a desire for a balance in her progeny.
Vyasa, the seer with foresight, honored her wish. He divided the lump of flesh into one hundred parts, but upon hearing Gandhari's desire for a daughter, he cut it once more, creating one hundred and one parts in total. Taking one of these parts, intended to be a daughter, he placed it into another pot filled with clarified butter.
As the pots were filled with clarified butter and the parts of flesh were treated with care, a miraculous transformation began to take shape. These fragments of flesh, sprinkled with water and immersed in devotion, underwent a divine metamorphosis.
After two years of anticipation and mystical interventions, Dusshala, the youngest of Gandhari's children and her only daughter, was born. Her arrival was a testament to the extraordinary powers of sage Vyasa and the unwavering desires of her mother, Queen Gandhari. From that moment forward, Dusshala's life would be intertwined with the epic tale of the Mahabharata, as she became the sole sister among the hundred Kaurava brothers.
She occupied a unique position as the sole sister among the formidable assembly of her hundred Kaurava brothers. As the only princess in the mightiest empire of her time, she was adored and cherished by all members of the royal family. Among her one hundred elder brothers, especially the eldest, Duryodhana, she was the cherished jewel in the family's crown. The Mahabharata also speaks of Dusshala being pampered and loved by the youngest twin brothers of the Pandavas, Nakula and Sahadeva.
Her life within the opulent palaces of Hastinapur, in the heart of the Kuru dynasty, might appear like a fairy tale to an outsider. Yet, she would come to learn that fairy tales, with their unending bliss, reside only within the pages of books. Tragedy was to strike her with an unforgiving hand. The growing power struggle amongst her brothers would spare no one, not even the beloved princess.
In the pursuit of power and dominion, her eldest brother, Duryodhana, made a fateful decision to betroth her to the young king of Sindhu Kingdom, Sindhu Raj Jayadratha. This decision, fueled by ambition and driven by the strained relations between the Kuru Dynasty and Sindhu, cast chaos within the courts of Hastinapur. Dusshala, bound by her love for her eldest brother and perhaps charmed by Jayadratha's handsome visage, reluctantly consented to the marriage.
But the trials and tribulations of her life were only just beginning. After the wedding, she discovered her husband's true nature—a man consumed by lust and corruption. He cast her aside after their initial nights together and took two additional consorts. It was only after she bore a son that she regained recognition within her new family.
Meanwhile, her brothers and half-siblings, the Pandavas, were locked in a relentless power struggle that turned them into bitter enemies who could not coexist under the same roof. In their pursuit of dominance, they seemed to forget the very existence of their sister. Even her parents, King Dhritarashtra and Queen Gandhari, appeared to have abandoned her for years.
This transformation from a bubbly, beloved princess, renowned throughout Aryavarta for her beauty, into a broken and unrecognizable figure was heartbreaking. In place of the once-vivacious princess, now stood a stoic queen, whose influence was so commanding that she was chosen as the first matriarch regent, even over her father-in-law, the previous king.
After the humiliation inflicted to Jayadratha, his sole purpose became seeking revenge. The entire weight of the kingdom rested on her shoulders alone, along with the daunting responsibility of grooming her son, Suratha, to become the future ruler.
The climactic Battle of Kurukshetra took her husband's life due to his recklessness, and tragically, he also took her father-in-law, along with many soldiers from their nation. After the war, her son, Suratha, ascended the throne of the Sindhu kingdom. The rulership of the Kuru Dynasty had shifted to the Pandavas, as they celebrated their victory.
In a symbolic gesture to assert their dominion, King Yudhishthira, the eldest Pandava, initiated the Ashvamedha sacrifice. The Ashvamedha was a ritual that ancient kings used to demonstrate their imperial sovereignty. A horse, accompanied by the king's warriors, would roam freely for a year, and any challenger along its path could dispute the king's authority. If the horse returned without challenge, the king would be declared the uncontested sovereign.
During the Ashvamedha sacrifice, the magnificent horse of the Pandavas ventured boldly into the heart of Sindhu territory, a realm now ruled by the young and spirited King Suratha—Dusshala's own son. Suratha, a monarch infused with the energy and fervor of youth, had recently ascended to the esteemed rank of Rathi, a testament to his growing prowess. He stood alongside a cadre of skilled archers, ready to face Arjuna, who loomed as one of the mightiest and unconquered Maharathis of his era.
In this monumental clash of power and destiny, Suratha's life was tragically cut short, succumbing to the sheer force and unparalleled skill of Arjuna's bowmanship. Arjuna, demonstrating his immense might, executed a breathtaking display known as a "Dry Fire." With astonishing precision, he pulled the bowstring and released it without an arrow, a feat that left the young king reeling in humiliation fell from his horse and rolled on dirt. Suratha, unable to bear this profound shame, made the fateful decision to end his life on the battlefield, a poignant symbol of his honor and dignity.
Dusshala, her heart heavy with grief, arrived at the battlefield cradling Suratha's infant son—a poignant and heart-wrenching scene that even moved the indomitable Arjuna to deep sorrow. In a solemn and compassionate proclamation, Arjuna declared the helpless infant as the rightful heir and new king of Sindhu, a gesture of profound respect for the fallen king's bloodline and legacy. With this, Arjuna departed, leaving behind a realm overshadowed by loss and remembrance.
Left with no one but her grandson, Dusshala embarked on a journey marked by enduring sorrow. She watched over the young prince, nurturing him through the trials and tribulations of his formative years until he emerged as a capable and just ruler, ready to assume the mantle of kingship. Only then, having fulfilled her duty and witnessed the blossoming of her lineage, did Dusshala quietly pass away, her legacy intertwined with the epic tapestry of the Mahabharata.
Engulfed in the depths of my contemplation, my gaze inevitably gravitated towards the mesmerizing beauty gracing my side. As I observed her, I couldn't help but wonder about the remarkable strength concealed within those slender shoulders of hers, strength that allowed her to bear the weight of such profound sorrow and agony. It was as though she carried a burden so immense that it could move even the gods to shed tears of sympathy.
Lost in my thoughts, I continued to study her, and a moment later, our eyes met. Haunted by memories of Jayadratha and the complex emotions they stirred within me, the words that finally escaped my lips were laden with vulnerability, "Do you resent me?"