Third Story: Draupadi's Legacy
The group was energized, yet reflective about the events they had just witnessed. When they were on the verge of starvation their prayers were answered by a generous farmer and the same magical rice that had brought Dasaratha his sons. Then, while resting in a kind old man's shady orchard, the group stumbled upon the golden statue of Sita that was long ago cast away by Rama. Despite these once-in-a-lifetime events, the group was growing tired and weak. Days upon days on the path were starting to take their toll. As they went further south beyond the mountain foothills the temperatures grew warmer. This, however, is not without a cost; in this case the cost for tropical temperatures was the rain that came with tropic showers. The plains offered little shelter from the rains, but on the horizon was a massive forest, wider than the eye could see. The canopy towering high above was taller than anything of the pilgrims had ever seen, and so dense that it blanketed the forest floor in darkness.
The woods surrounding the road were unthinkably dense, and practically impossible to navigate. Across the land the forest was known as a safe haven for criminals and other undesirables. Cast away from conventional society, they took refuge in the forest, living off its abundant resources and preying off traveling merchants. There is no doubt that the group knew the dangers before entering the woods, but historically those on a spiritual pilgrimage were protected by the divine nature of their journey. Besides, the group had next to nothing of any value, just food and essential supplies. Even the most desperate criminals knew it was foolish to tempt the fate of the gods for such a small bounty. Despite their assumption of safety, the group decided to stop and make camp for the night. The guide knew they would not make it out of the forest before sundown, and decided that the remaining sunlight was best used to set up and secure their camp. Racing against the sun, the group scrambled to clear the brush from the forest floor, and gather wood to start a fire. Their coordination paid off, and as they settled in around the warm glow of the fire, they watched the last shafts of sunlight fall lower in the sky.
Exhausted from their journey, they almost did not notice the pillar of dark dense smoke that was pouring onto the road down around the bend. It was too far away to make out the source of the smoke, but it was clear no one could sleep without knowing its cause. Determined to investigate the source of the smoke, a few young men quickly assembled, and made their way down the road toward the bend to investigate the source of the smoke. As the volunteers made their way toward the smoke and rounded the bend in the road, they were suddenly met by the sight of an old man in front of a run-down shack burning in a small clearing. The old man was standing frozen, the flames from the house raging behind him. When approached by the leader of the volunteers, the old man was understandably shaken. According to him he had been out checking his rabbit traps, and picking berries all day. He had returned just moments before the pilgrims had discovered him. As the reality of his situation began to set in, the old man started to grow restless. In a matter of seconds he had witnessed all his earthly possessions literally go up in smoke.
"Why, oh why am I being punished?" he pleaded with gods, yet no answer came. By sunrise the fire had stopped burning, and all that was left was the charred ruins of the old man's previous life.
"The will of the gods is fickle. Who knows for sure their intentions?" offered a man from the group.
"Perhaps this fire is a sign, not a curse. How often in your life are they freed from the burden of responsibility? You should take this opportunity and newfound freedom to come with us to Rameswaram. There I am sure you will find the answer to your questions," suggested the eldest woman of the group.
Whether or not the group’s reasoning convinced him is unclear, the fact of the matter was that he had no reason not to join them on their pilgrimage. Any reason he might have had to stay behind was now smoldering in the ashes of his house. Back at the group's campsite, the burning fire the group had built replaced the smoke from the burning house. Sympathetic to the old man's loss, the pilgrims showered him with food and supplies. The entire group had surrounded the fire, intrigued by their newest member.
"I know it is hard to imagine now, but it has been my experience that more often than not loss is usually followed by good fortune. While fire is a destructive force, it is actually more of a purging force, in reality it clears the way for new growth and opportunity. Perhaps if you can take a step back from the events of today, and certainly with time, you will see this too could be one such opportunity. As a young man, my great-great-grandfather was a mystic advisor to King Drupada. While it is not commonplace today, one of his jobs was to perform sacrifices to the gods. The idea was to show respect and appease the gods by giving up something of value in exchange for the gods listening to your prayers. Defeated and humiliated in battle, King Drupada was desperate for revenge. The King was so desperate, in fact, that he had my great-great-grandfather conduct a sacrificial fire. The King cast all his remaining possessions into the fire. The greater the sacrifice, the greater he would be rewarded. It must have worked, for from the fire emerged a gorgeous, tanned woman known as Draupadi, along with her strapping warrior of a brother, Drishtadyumna. You too have lost everything; perhaps you too will also be rewarded as graciously as the King. Unless you put your anger aside and open your eyes for the possibility of change, you will never know for sure," lectured the elder woman.
Moved by the kindness and generosity of the group, especially the woman's story, the old man knew his only option was to move beyond his anger in search of spiritual salvation in Rameswaram.
Author's Note: Unlike the other stories, this tale is not so much about happens, but rather what is learned. The tale is one of salvation and reconciliation. At the center of this is the old man who the group had found in front of his burning house. Despite no background knowledge about whom the old man is, it is assumed he is the victim of the fire. This epitomizes the focus of the story, concentrating on one's capacity for good rather than their past transgressions. Parallels between the old man and King Drupada were obvious. While both had hit rock bottom, King Drupada had the faith to trust in the gods, and was thus rewarded with his two spectacular children. In the end, despite having lost everything, we end on a note of hope as the old man puts his anger at the gods aside and joins the group on their way to Rameswaram. His faith and devotion mirrors that of King Drupada and assures us that his loss was not for nothing. By choosing the path of salvation and reconciliation, there was no doubt he would be rewarded for his faith and devotion. Only time can tell exactly how his devotion will be rewarded, but if the legacy of Draupadi tells us anything, it will be just as rewarding.
Bibliography: Narayan, R. K. (1978). The Mahabharata: A Shortened Modern Prose Version of the Indian Epic.
Draupadi emerges from the fire. Web Source: Dolls of India