Fueled By Flower

Soothing rays of the sun stretched across the sky and landed on the ground, gently caressing the fertile alluvium. It was a dense forest shrouded with tall devadaru and other trees characteristic of the Indian Subcontinent more commonly referred to as the Bharatvarsh then. 

If one had the chance to look at the scene from above, they would find a dense canopy of vegetation with a small clearing in the middle. Further, there was a thin fume of smoke arising out from the clearing. In the clearing was a hut with a patched roof and a low entrance. Right in front of the hut was a small fire burning as it very gracefully consumed a bunch of twigs, leaves and barks. And hanging above the flames was a pot with grains inside it. 

The air was filled with the sweet melodies of koels and monals. But more alluring was an engrossing fragrance emanating from the hut. There was a sound of footsteps and from inside the hut appeared a woman, who could be in her late thirties, with a distinctly obvious divine aura around her. 

She was tall with a dark skin tone. Her eyes spoke a million words and one could doubt if she was walking or dancing. She had a long unkempt hair stretching beyond her curved hips. Was she Anusuya, the chaste wife of Sage Atri, or was she Arundati, the pious counterpart of Sage Vashishta? She did not resemble either of them. In fact, she bore no mark of an ascetic. Though she was draped in a single cloth, like most ascetics, her appearance said otherwise. She appeared to be a woman of royal status, one born in an esteemed lineage of mighty warriors. One could even argue that she was an Apsara from the heavens or even the goddess Parvati herself. Such was the beauty that this lady of dusky complexion carried. 

She walked out of the hut towards the pot and she was carrying a grain soop in her hands. As she walked towards the fire she picked a handful of grains and scattered on the ground in a graceful manner. No sooner than she did this, a group of squirrels and flock of doves and koels hooted down to feed upon them. 

A herd of does along with their new-borns were standing behind trees and eyeing at this woman, secretly praising and admiring her beauty. She appeared to be new to this way of life but was doing great in adapting herself. She was cooking for her family who must be resting inside the hut. 

As she was checking the rice inside the cooking pot, a man of gargantuan physique and a towering height came out from the hut. He greatly manoeuvred his mammoth body in a not-so-gentle manner through the low height entrance. 

'Woke up early eh?' He said scratching his broad chests. 

The woman raised her head and sighed at the man as a manner of responding to his question. She then walked towards the hut and as she was about to walk past the man, she suddenly stopped and stood gazing at a particular direction. 

'What worries you?' The man asked gently caressing her head. 

'Did you know that there is a lake, not too far from here; which is said to be home to a rare variety of lily. I wish to behold that flower, could you please bring it to me?' The woman asked with love filled words. 

'Is that all! I can move mountains for you.' The man replied in his usual flaunting manner. 'Wait here, while I race to fulfil your desire' Saying this he left the scene. Contrary to his physical structure, he was known to be a fast-runner: A peculiar combination. Many do wonder upon his rare gift of achieving greater speeds while running. Some even call him the "Son of Air". 

And in a few moments, he was back and handed over the flower to the woman who received it with great pleasure. She took the flower close to her face and sniffed it to perceive the fragrance. She then walked to the hut and placed the flower atop the entrance and then turned back to look at her husband with eyes that gave a multitude of expressions.

The man standing at a distance was clever enough to understand what she meant. He clenched his fists and with eyes filled with rage he said, 

'Draupadi, don't you worry. You will soon tie up your hair as we take revenge on the treacherous Dhuryodhana and his siblings.' Bheem's torso bulged as he inhaled a large volume of air in rage. 

Exposition: 

This story is an imaginary adaptation from the Mahabharata. The Pandavas were once invited to a game of dice by Dhuryodhana. The match was Dhuryodhana's plan to strip the pandavas of their riches, lands, glory and even honour. He carried it out with the help of his traitorous uncle Shakuni. Lost in the match, Pandavas humbly decided to leave when Dhuryodhana wanted to further humiliate them. He perusaded Yudhisthira, the eldest Pandava to stake their common wife Draupadi and win back all that they had lost. As planned, Yudhisthira was defeated and Draupadi was dragged into the hall by Dhushasana by grabbing her hair, and was stripped of her robes. Draupadi's honor was saved miraculously by Lord Krishna and Lord Dharma. It was then that the pious and chaste lady took an oath (though not mentioned in literature) that she will never tie up her hair until she bathes in the blood of Dhushasana. Until then, she will remain with an unkempt hair and drape herself with a single cloth.