The Pandavas lived for a couple of years in Ekachakra. Then, one morning, they were greatly excited by the news of a svayamvara to be held in Panchala for King Drupada’s daughter, Draupadi, who was known for her beauty all over the country. Her complexion milk-white, her eyes like a gazelle’s, her neck arched like a swan’s, she attracted suitors from all over Bharatavarsha. Since the king expected a large gathering of suitors and guests, he had made adequate arrangements for their stay in the city. The svayamvara was to be a grand occasion. There was a large crowd of Brahmins who expected to receive alms during this ceremony.
Since Ekachakra was not too far from Panchala, several residents of the city decided to witness the spectacle. Kunti had her own reasons for sending her sons to participate in the svayamvara. As a mother, she hoped that one of them might win Draupadi as his bride, for wasn’t it time for her to have a daughter-in-law?
Dressed in deerskin, with their sacred threads showing prominently, the Pandava brothers joined a group of Ekachakra citizens on their journey to Panchala. Here, the Pandavas stayed in a potter’s house. Decorated with floral arches, Panchala, wore a festive look. Caparisoned horses and elephants were seen everywhere on the streets.
All the suitors and guests were seated inside the central hall of the palace. On the dais sat King Drupada, with his queen and some special dignitaries. Near the dais, a fire ritual was in progress, with some priests chanting Vedic hymns. As the ritual drew to a close, King Drupada’s son Dhrishtadyumna, the eldest brother of Draupadi and commander-in-chief of the royal forces, entered the assembly hall. He was followed by his sister Draupadi, who was wearing a gold-threaded saree and two necklaces, each of diamonds and of pearls. The suitors felt as if the moon had sneaked into the hall through one of its windows.
A wave of excitement overwhelmed the suitors, whose eyes were focussed on Draupadi’s face and whose hearts started pounding with expectation. Who would win her hand was the thought uppermost in every heart.
Then a voice boomed from the dais. It was Dhrishtadyumna who addressed the gathering: ‘Let me first welcome you all on behalf of my father, King Drupada. As you already know, this ceremony is being held to enable Draupadi, my sister, to choose one of the suitors gathered here as her husband – someone who will succeed in a feat of archery that I will now describe. There, you see on that table, a mighty bow with five arrows and a bowl of oil that reflects a fish up there, revolving right under the ceiling. Each competitor will have to first unhook the bow, string it and then pierce the revolving fish’s right eye by watching only its reflection in the bowl of oil. Remember, please, that each suitor will be allowed to use only five arrows and no more.’
An ominous silence descended over the place. With knitted eyebrows, some princes whispered to each other, ‘This seems to be an impossible task. How could one shoot the fish’s eye while just looking at its reflection in the bowl? Does King Drupada want his daughter to remain unwed and die a spinster?’
Duryodhana was the first to rise from his seat. Majestically, he strode towards the central table, darting a glance at Draupadi. Then he looked around the crowd, his eyes beaming with pride and confidence. A cheer broke out as he stood near the bow.
But as he tried to lift it, he found it too heavy. Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead as he strained every muscle of his body. When he failed the third time, his face darkened and a film blinkered his eyes. Mortified by his humiliation, he trudged back to his seat, his eyes downcast and his hands shaking.
He was then followed by several other suitors, but each of them failed.
Then rose Radheya, who was seated next to Duryodhana. He walked confidently to the mighty bow. As he stood near the table and looked around, his face glowed like the sun. Broad-chested, with hands like a lion’s paws, he unhooked the bow in just one jerk and raised it in his right hand. A loud applause was heard in the hall.
‘He will succeed, surely,’ someone in the crowd said.
But just as he trained his first arrow at the fish’s reflection in the bowl, a strident voice was heard in the hall: ‘He may be the king of Anga, but he is a charioteer’s son.’
A hush fell over the hall and several eyebrows were raised. As Radheya heard the words, he seethed with anger.
Dhrishtadyumna now turned to Draupadi for her response. She shook her head, signalling her disapproval of this suitor. Her brother then asked Radheya to withdraw from the contest.
At this public insult to his friend, Duryodhana, already stung by his own failure, rushed into the hall and asked Dhrishtadyumna, ‘Is this fair play? In the beginning, you categorically announced that this svayamvara was open to everybody. But now you have limited it to suitors of high birth only. Is birth the only criterion to judge an archer’s merit?’
As Duryodhana was impetuously defending his friend, Radheya glowered at Draupadi and said, ‘O Draupadi, you will some day have to pay dearly for the humiliation you have hurled at me. I will patiently wait for the day to settle scores with you. Norms of chivalry prevent me from saying anything more at this moment.’
Saying these words, he returned to his seat, his entire body burning with intense rage.
But just as both Duryodhana and Radheya threatened to walk out, they saw a young Brahmin striding into the hall. Dressed in deerskin, he walked up to the dais, bowed to the king and then turned to Dhrishtadyumna.
‘O Prince, can a Brahmin be permitted to try his hand at the bow? I seek your permission.’
As he spoke, Draupadi stole a glance at the young archer, whose face gleamed like god Indra’s. Wasn’t he the handsomest of all the suitors, she said to herself.
Sensing his sister’s approval, her brother responded: ‘Indeed, you are welcome to try your luck, even though you are not a Kshatriya.’
Then bowing to the king, whose gaze lingered for a while on the young Brahmin’s face, Arjuna walked over to the table on which lay the formidable bow.
With bated breath, everyone watched him as he stood near the table and murmured some mantras, with his eyes closed. Then his right hand gently caressed the bow, as if it were a stringed instrument. In a flash, he picked it up effortlessly and kissed it. Holding it in his hands, he strung it and twanged it, as if to let it sing to everyone in the hall. A loud cheer rose from the crowd to see the young Brahmin turn the bow around in his hands.
He then picked up an arrow and fixed it gently to the bow. A moment later, he looked into the bowl, examining the reflection of the revolving fish. Carefully, he watched for a while the pattern of its movements. All this time, the tip of his arrow remained frozen as if it were waiting for a climactic moment.
Then, with a sudden jerk of his right hand, he let the arrow fly from the bow while his eyes remained focussed on the fish’s reflection in the bowl. The arrow pierced the fish’s right eye and the contraption came to a sudden standstill.
The entire assembly now exploded into tumultuous shouting.
‘Well done! All glory to you!’ someone in the gathering exclaimed.
All the Brahmin guests in the hall leapt up in unbounded excitement.
Then Draupadi stepped down from the dais, holding a garland in her hands. Gliding like a swan on limpid waters, she drew close to Arjuna and put her garland around his neck… Arjuna had won as his bride the most beautiful woman in the country.
Draupadi stood close to Arjuna, as if she would now stay with him forever, in love and devotion. Arjuna’s four brothers, also disguised as Brahmins, gathered around the couple.
‘My brothers,’ said Arjuna to Draupadi, who greeted them with folded hands.
Suddenly, there was an uproar in the section of the hall where Duryodhana and his brothers were seated. Addressing King Drupada, one of the Kaurava princes shouted, ‘You have humiliated all Kshatriyas by allowing a Brahmin to participate in this svayamvara. We will not let him walk away with your daughter.’
Then Duryodhana led a group of princes to the centre of the hall, where Arjuna stood, holding his bride’s hand. But before Arjuna could do anything, Bheema leapt forward like a lion springing from its den. At the top of his voice, he roared, ‘If anybody dares touch my brother or his bride, I will smash his head. You may choose to fight me singly or jointly.’
Then he pulled off a pillar and started swinging it around as if it were a mace. While some of the protesters fell under his blows, the others ran helter-skelter.
Suddenly, Arjuna saw Radheya striding menacingly towards him, his bow raised in his right hand.
‘While your brother is dancing around like a monkey, let me take care of you,’ he challenged.
Instantly, Arjuna responded with an arrow that whizzed past Radheya’s ears.
‘This is to invite you to a single contest,’ Arjuna said.
Then began a fierce duel between the two archers. Soon Radheya found himself overpowered by his adversary. Unstringing his bow, he said, ‘O Brahmin, I give in to you voluntarily. Maybe we will meet again somewhere, some day.’
Saying these words, Radheya walked away.
By this time, Bheema’s deadly blows had sent many princes scurrying away like rats.
The five brothers and Draupadi now walked out of the hall. In a short while, they were back in Ekachakra. As they stood at the doorstep of their house, they saw Kunti busy cooking, lost in anxious thoughts over the unusual delay of her sons’ return.
With a gentle knock at the door, Arjuna announced, ‘Look, mother, what we have brought for you.’
Without turning her head and still stirring the rice bowl with a ladle, Kunti replied, ‘Whatever it is, divide it equally amongst all of you.’
But when she turned around, she realized how she had blundered.
‘Oh God!’ she exclaimed. ‘It is Princess Draupadi that you have won at the svayamvara, not any alms.’
But since the words had been uttered, they could not be taken back. It was like an arrow released from a bow, over which the archer no longer had any control. Thus did Draupadi become wife to all the Pandava brothers.
But they did not know that they had been shadowed by Dhrishtadyumna’s spies, who had seen and heard everything. They reported to the king that the Brahmin who had won the svayamvara was none other than Arjuna, and his four brothers were Yudhishthira, Bheema, Nakula and Sahadeva. King Drupada was overjoyed to learn that his daughter now belonged to the illustrious Pandava family, although he found it difficult to reconcile himself to the fact that she would be wife to all the five brothers.
Mysterious are the ways of Brahma, King Drupada thought. Arjuna, who had been sent by his enemy Drona to seize him as a captive, was now his son-in-law. Maybe the tables would now be turned, and Arjuna might some day find himself pitted against his own guru. And if the boon granted to him by the gods came true, his son Dhrishtadyumna would become the cause of Drona’s death.
Later in the evening, a royal messenger arrived at the potter’s house with an invitation for the Pandavas to stay at Drupada’s palace.