The Saga of A Real-life Draupadi :

"Puti, She is like a roti. Like a roti is she." As the boys kept chanting her name and teasing her, the teacher looked at the bespectacled girl showing exemplary courage and non-violence by working on something in her notebook. 

"What's your name?" The teacher, having entered the classroom after the breather and noticed the girl sitting on the second bench in the middle, surrounded by a group of her classmates, asked her. 

The girl stood up and without looking up at him, kept her eyes towards her feet before answering," My name is Puti, Sir. Puri Tudu."

"Puti? That's an unusual name!" The teacher remarked as the rest of the class broke out in a laughter. 

But the girl looked least perturbed. So, he asked her again, "Who is your father? What's his name?"

"B.N.Tudu, Sir." She replied humbly. 

"Oh! So, you are the sarpanch's daughter? Good, good. Please sit down." His tone changed drastically even more when he learnt that Puti was a good student though not many of her shantali people studied there in that school in the mesmerizing locale of Rairangpur in the district of Mayurbhanj in Odisa. 

On a bright afternoon, as the teacher was heading home, he met Puti on the way. In the school uniform, with her hair plaited and her back to him, she could easily have been mistaken for any other student but for her poise grace and easy gait. There was an air of invincibility about Puti. Like she was born to lord over the world. 

"PU… .T..," he called out to her. 

The girl made a u-turn and looked askance at the teacher. 

"Are you calling me, Sir?" She asked most respectfully. 

The sun had gone down long leaving the sky a crimson hue. Against the backdrop of the vast paddy fields behind her and that look of defiance in her eyes, she reminded him of Draupadi, a character from the very popular TV serial "The Mahabharata" based on the age-old Hindu epic. 

The teacher had caught up with her by then and standing face to face with the girl, he said, "I was surely calling you. But for a smart girl like you, Puti is not the right name. Besides, it has some negative implications. Why don't you let me call you "Draupadi" instead? Yea, that just sounds right for you." The teacher seemed happy with his re-christening of the girl's name. "Why don't you ask your parents? If they have no objections, we can enroll you as Draupadi at school from tomorrow on."

All the way back the little girl kept repeating that name : DRAUPADADI, DRAUPADADI. 

Her parents finding her infatuation with the new name, decided to go with the teacher's proposal. And that's how Puti came to acquire a new name at school. She came to be called by the name of DRAUPADADI.

 

In due course of time, Draupadi, having pursued her Master's, joined a local school as a teacher before switching over to SAIERI as an Assistant Professor. That was the begining of a much fancied and chequered career. 

Her parents, in the meantime, were getting worried about her as girls in her community got married early. She was in her mid-twenties and yet unmarried.

"Why are you in such a hurry to send me off, Baba? Have I been such a bad daughter?" She asked her father playfully one day. 

"Forget about me, Draupadi. Any father would be proud to have a daughter like you. But then, beti, there is this thing called culture and custom and no one can ignore it. It is time, in fact, past time for you to get married. Luckily, there was someone with a marriage proposal recently. The young man is working in a reputed bank. As his father is personally known to me, I couldn't turn it down… "

So, that's how she was married off to S.C.Murmu. A doting daughter, Draupadi proved to be a devoted wife as well. The couple led a happy, married life. Their eldest son, Laxman, was followed by Suptin. Their cup of joy was filled to the brim when the much desired daughter, Itishri, was born.

"G

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od has been good to us. I only pray for our happiness to last for a lifetime." She told her husband when she was back home from the hospital. 

In due course of time, just like her father and grandfather, Draupadi joined politics. From the village panchayat, she got elected in the Odisa Assembly. Draupadi went on to serve various Ministries before the ruling party, BJP, made her as the National Vice President of the Scheduled Tribes Morcha by 2000 AD. 

Her hard work and sense of commitment got noticed and rewarded as she was next appointed as first woman Governor of the neighbouring state of Jharkhand in 2015.

They say that God gives with one hand and takes back with the other. When Draupadi was gaining in popularity and prominence, her younger son was snatched away from her life all on a sudden. 

Hardly had she recovered from the shock, when her life partner and best friend, after a prolonged ailment, left her. Life couldn't have been any more crueler. But she still had her eldest son and daughter to be taken care of besides her political aspirations and ambitions. So, stilling her heart against all the setbacks and mishaps, Draupadi devoted herself to making an impact in Jharkhand as the Governor. 

It was in the year 2020, one evening when she was in the Governor's House waiting for Lakshman to be back from the market. She wanted to have an early dinner and retire to bed. Something kept bothering her when like a bad omen the mirror on the side wall fell off, cracked with some pieces of the silvery glass scattered all over. Draupadi had the premonition of an impending doom. The giant led TV in the drawing room was left on by one of the orderlies. She tried to keep the disturbing thought out of her mind by burying herself in the magazines on her table when the commotion on the TV made her stop and look up. There was a terrible accident near the Supermarket, the correspondent covering the news, was yelling at the microphone held out to her. Draupadi's heart skipped a beat as the picture of the badly damaged car was being shown on the screen.

Why did it look familiar? Why was Ram not back yet? Then she had a glimpse of the wounded man being carried away in a stretcher. It didn't take the mother long to recognise the gory body of the son. And the telephone started ringing exactly then……

Life after Lakshman's death was a drag. The son she had pinned so much hope on, was inexplicably gone. Who will be there to continue the family legacy and traditions? What bothered her even more was : Who will put a fire to the pyre when it was time for her to take the final leave? But she knew that she couldn't give up on Life without a fight just like that. There was still Itishri, the daughter. She needed Draupadi more in the absence of her close ones. 

Made of steel, Draupadi continued to discharge her duties. Then, by May a couple of years after the tragic demise of Lakshman, she received words from the headquarters that her name was being proposed as a candidate of the ruling party for the post of the President of India.

From that day on, everything happened like a dream and culminated on the 25th of July, at the historic Rashtrapati Bhawan with Draupadi being sworn in as the First Tribal President of India. 

In a speech right after the swearing-in ceremony, Draupadi said : My election as the President is a proof that the poor in India can dream and make their dreams come true as well… . "

As the Chief Justice and the former President shook hands in the forecourt of the august building to congratulate her, Draupadi looked up to the clear blue skies overhead and uttered a silent prayer.

Her prayer of making it to where it mattered had already been answered but she had still miles to go before she could even think of having the curtains brought down on her life. And miles to go before she could think of being united with the people who were waiting patiently up in The Unknown Land.