Apprehensive of being found out in the forest by Duryodhana’s spies, the Pandavas decided to spend the thirteenth year of their exile in some crowded city, where they could remain hidden, like a needle in a haystack. The city of Virata was their natural choice because its king was known for his kindness and magnanimity. But while leaving the Kamyaka forest, they felt somewhat nostalgic because they had lived there in peace. For their company, they had sages who often dropped by their cottage to enlighten them on life’s complexities – and there were, of course, birds and animals that lived in harmony with nature.
They knew that the next twelve months would open up a new vista of adventure, but not without some hazards too. They were now required to live incognito – but would it be possible to keep their identities secret for such a long time?
As they approached the outskirts of Virata, Arjuna saw a mammoth tree, whose branches sprawled around as if they wanted to cover a large tract of land.
‘That tree should be an ideal place for us to hide our weapons,’ Arjuna said.
Packing them all in a sack, Arjuna climbed to the top of this tree and hung the sack, which now looked like a corpse dangling in mid-air.
‘This should scare anyone from coming near the tree,’ said Bheema, watching Arjuna up in the tree.
Then the Pandavas sat in its shade to discuss their future plans. It looked as if a council of ministers were deep in deliberation over some important matter of state.
‘How would you, Yudhishthira, disguise yourself as an employee in the court of Virata?’ asked Bheema. ‘Anyone can see that you are a prince – born to rule, not serve.’
‘I could offer myself as a companion to King Virata, introducing myself as a former counsellor to Yudhishthira. I could also claim to be well versed in the Vedas.’ But when he referred to his skill as a dice player, everyone broke into laughter.
‘But not as skilled as Sakuni,’ quipped Sahadeva.
Smiling, Yudhishthira said, ‘I still know the game well enough to keep anyone company. But, listen, call me Kanka hereafter, for that is the name I will adopt during my stay in Virata.’
‘Then I will be known as Brihannala,’ said Arjuna. ‘Doesn’t it sound androgynous? I propose to offer the king my services as a eunuch, skilled in music and dance. You know, music has always been my hobby. And if I am taken as a music and dance teacher, I will have access to all the young women in the palace.’
‘But not to seduce anyone of them,’ bantered Draupadi.
‘Don’t worry, Draupadi,’ he said. ‘I will engage myself in singing and dancing more to entertain myself than to teach this art to others.’
But when it came to Bheema, Yudhishthira looked concerned.
‘How would you be able to conceal your huge body? I hope you wouldn’t give us all away.’
‘No problem, brother,’ Bheema said. ‘I will call myself Valala and offer my services as a cook. I hope King Virata will take me as the head chef of his royal kitchen. You know, I have almost starved all these years because Draupadi never gave me enough to eat.’ He smiled. ‘But in the royal kitchen, I look forward to gorging myself on all that I have missed so far.’ He paused. ‘Besides, I could claim to be a wrestler. And every wrestler has to be fed properly to keep fit.’
Another burst of laughter followed. ‘You seem to be very well organized,’ said Yudhishthira. ‘May you eat, wrestle and sleep.’ He then turned to Nakula.
‘How would you keep yourself occupied in Virata? Being so young, handsome and sensitive, you may find it diffcult to put yourself to any kind of manual work.’
‘Don’t underestimate me, brother,’ responded Nakula. ‘First, let me give you all my new name – Damagranthi. Isn’t that name just right for a keeper of horses? I have always been charmed by these animals because I see in them beauty, grace, strength and sensitivity. A horse is a man’s loyal friend and companion. So the royal stable is where I propose to establish myself.’
Sahadeva was the last of the Pandava brothers to speak. ‘My name will be Tantripala, and I will take care of the cows, which are always a king’s real wealth. Besides, looking after a cow is like praying. A cow’s milk is like nectar for an infant and a source of sustenance to an adult.’
‘You seem to have beaten us all with your choice,’ said Yudhishthira. ‘May Nandini bless you!’
As Yudhishthira now looked at Draupadi, wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
‘O Draupadi, I am deeply concerned about you. So beautiful and fragile, and King Drupada’s darling, how would you fend for yourself in Virata? My heart would bleed to see you work as a maidservant.’
‘Don’t feel anxious about me, dear Yudhishthira. I too have thought of a name for myself – Sairindhri. I intend taking up the position of beautician to the queen. Although every woman is a beautician unto herself, there are some embellishments which only a specialist can bring to this art. Since I have learnt this art from my mother, I should be able to assist King Virata’s wife in adorning herself. That would help her hold her husband’s heart forever. You know, most kings have roving eyes, always looking for new pastures.’
‘Not me,’ interposed Yudhishthira.
‘But every king is not Dharmaraja. You are wedded to virtue – what more can I say?’
Yudhishthira blushed at her compliment. ‘You are not just a woman, but a deity to be worshipped by all of us.’
Their plans made, the Pandavas now walked into the city as strangers looking for employment in the royal palace. They wanted to return to life in a palace, even though it was not their own. Since they carried sage Vyasa’s blessings with them, they knew they would succeed in their mission.
King Virata was very pleased to hear that Kanka had been close to the king of Indraprastha as his personal companion. ‘My only condition is,’ he told the king, ‘that I will not accept any leftovers from the dining table.’
‘Indeed,’ responded the king. ‘I can see from the way you carry yourself that you are from a respectable family.’
Yudhishthira now spent long hours with the king, enlightening him on the Vedas and playing dice with him. He was also instrumental in getting his brothers the positions they had wanted. He pretended to have met them in the city as strangers looking for suitable employment.
Yudhishthira was now convinced that some divine power was guiding him, otherwise he could not have succeeded in fixing all his brothers in such a short time. Draupadi too, he hoped, would somehow find her way into the palace as a beautician to the queen.
And then, a little later, a miracle happened, although after an unpleasant incident. As Draupadi was going down the street leading to the royal palace, she was jeered at by some miscreants, who saw her walking alone with a stately gait, her long, silken hair hanging loose.
‘Look at her,’ someone from the crowd said teasingly. ‘Isn’t she strutting like a peacock, with all its feathers fanning out?’
‘She thinks she is a queen,’ jibed another.
‘Her royal husband must have abandoned her,’ said a squint-eyed man.
Draupadi was on the verge of tears when a woman walked up to her and said, ‘Queen Sudeshna wants to see you. Will you follow me?’
Sitting on the balcony of her palace, watching the traffic down the street, the queen had seen a destitute woman being harassed by some men. So she sent one of her maidservants to bring her up to her.
As Draupadi stood before the queen, her eyes tearful, she pleaded: ‘O gracious queen, I need your help.’
‘Who are you? Where have you come from? And what sort of work can you do?’ the queen asked her.
‘I am Sairindhri and I was beautician to Queen Draupadi of Indraprastha, who treated me like her sister. But when she went into exile with her husbands, I became homeless. I have now come to this city, looking for employment.’
Queen Sudeshna looked at her with compassion and asked, ‘Are you married?’
‘Yes. I am a Gandharva, wedded to five husbands, who have to stay away from me for a year because my family is under a curse. But after a year’s separation, I will be back to my husbands, whom I miss very much.’
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ said the queen. ‘Since you are alone, you should not walk about the streets, exposed to the public eye. You are so young and beautiful.’ She paused. ‘Tell me, what sort of woman is Queen Draupadi? I have heard that she is astonishingly beautiful. As her beautician, you must have learnt the secret of her charms.’
‘Yes, O Queen, she is indeed very beautiful, but look at what suffering she must be undergoing now. Beauty and pain – strange bedfellows!’
Draupadi now saw the queen lost in some thoughts, as if she were pondering over something. Then she spoke tenderly but not without a tinge of anxiety: ‘I would be very pleased to have you as my beautician, but your beauty might create some problems in this palace. I can trust my husband, but my brother has a roving eye. I’m afraid he might be tempted by you. Do you promise not to encourage him? I am sure you understand what I mean.’
‘Don’t worry, O gracious queen, I am devoted to my husbands, whom I worship as my gods. If any man here tries to touch me, they would kill him forthwith. They love me more than anyone can imagine.’
The queen relaxed and said to Draupadi, ‘All right, Sairindhri, I will take you as my beautician – and my friend. You will receive all the respect and care you deserve.’
Draupadi was immensely pleased with the queen’s offer. Her first impulse was to run over to Yudhishthira and announce the good news, but she chose to wait for a while.
When the queen introduced Draupadi to the king as a former beautician to the queen of Indraprastha, he was delighted.
‘So now you will have a companion to talk to,’ said the king to the queen. He then told her how he too had been fortunate to find someone who had been very close to King Yudhishthira, with whom he played dice and discussed the Vedas.
‘It seems we have now two persons who knew the Pandavas intimately,’ said the queen. ‘I wonder where they are wandering about these days.’
Every evening, the Pandavas met in Bheema’s kitchen, which now became their secret meeting place.