The sun rose and set a few times, like the flickering flame of the lamp that was struggling to keep itself alight.

The days passed in an haze, almost like they never existed. An eternity of darkness, and no light in sight.  Mata Kunti had left, to get Pitahmah Bhism leaving Panchaali alone in this huge palace.

There were guards, servants and maids, all luxuries and comforts.  Anything she desired would be hers,  an explicit order of the pandavas.

Yet, nothing was same. She found herself, sitting on a swinging wondering about her life. The stark mess that it had become, was too much apparent to sign it off as not her fault.

Depression seemed to be knocking on her doors, making her sick to the core. "Yuvrani, you should eat something." The distant feminine sound of her handmaid, was laced in worry.

She felt bad for making them concerned, she wanted to go about her day as if nothing had happened. 

As if nothing was her fault, but insecurities slithered in her mind like a deadly dark snake, that spat the poison of thoughts, which killed her a little everyday.

The ache intensified, but now the tears too had refused to leave the doorway of eyes. Time heals everything they say, it was a sick joke that she now had realised.

Time doesn't heal everything, it just makes you adjust to the pain. The way she had accepted it.

The heart crushing pain. . .

"Yuvrani." Dhara called once again, her heart breaking for the new bride. Where there should have been showered with joys and celebrations,  all this palace had gifted her was darkness.

It was like a funeral rite that was about to be performed. No one, not one women of Kuruvansh had yet come to acquaint themselves with the new bride.

"Leave me alone Dhara. I shall eat. Please." Her words were hollow,  Dhara sighed defeated, weight of the new princess' words settling heavily on her shoulders.

She couldn't do anything to help her, and felt really bad about it. She wondered, what the poor girl had done to deserve this treatment.

As she walked out, deep in the thoughts, her heart froze, as her eyes fell on the sight before her.

The heavy tinklet of anklets was like an ominous calling, darkness seemed to have settled heavily on the palace.

Decked in the heaviest of jewelleries, and the most precious stones necklaces,  the finest of deep blue lehnga, that hugged her body like a second skin, flaring at the end.

With heavy makeup, and best of hairstyle,  everything made the first wife of Prince Duryodhan shine like a gem. But the malicious murky brown orbs showed the ugliest of her realities.

Head held high, posture straight,  the woman walked with an arrogance that was unlike any other.

Terror masked the features of the servants and guards, they bowed.  Four maids flanking behind her, their eyes lowered heavily, like the weight of dread set on their lashes.

Their bodies taut with tension. Air cackled with a fear so strong, it's non existent pungent odor stiffling breaths of many.

"Where's the princess of Panchaal?" Words dripped from the tar of disgust, the woman spoke with a grimace on her face,  like she had tasted something sour.

Fear sparkled in Dharas heart, her knees quivered,  "In here, your highness." She bowed, her voice soft, a trembling finger pointing towards the door.

She scoffed, walking past Dhara, like she never existed.

The heavy doors to the room were slammed open, making Draupadi jolt up from her stupor.

The woman stared at Draupadi, who wore a simple faint blue lehnga, her soft, beautiful hands, with long thin fingers adored with her wedding ring, a bracelet connected to a ring in the center finger, by a thin chain.

The colour of heena designs of her hand, was one of darkest of red. And a long mangalsutr rested around her neck.

The long thick curls, that though braided reached past her waist, the woman could only imagine where they would reach once let loose.

The serene glow that Draupadi had was all too entraping, scent of blue loutuses heavy in air, like they all had bloomed once in the room.

Beauty like hers, she had never seen. For a moment, the woman was left tongue tied, so had the maids, who were seeing the princess of Panchaal for the first time.

There was an aura of innocence on her face, a glow of mischief in her eyes, but, what blanketed her beauty the most was the dark tint of sadness, that rippled deep in her.

The golden embers in her midnight dark eyes,  burned lowly. Doe shaped orbs, made the woman almost loose her mind.

Beauty.

She was a true beauty. 

Jealousy reared it's ugly head in her chest,  roiling around in her like hot, burning tar, that was poured deep with in.

Her stomach crunched with an acid. How can someone be more beautiful than her? The question daunted the woman, making her glare at the princess of Panchaal.

Hatred burned deep in her, her hands fisting by her sides. No, no one can be more beautiful than her! No one!

And she will teach this princess of Panchaal, a lesson, for daring to go against her. For being more beautiful than her! .

Greeting her teeth, with a snake like smile,  she began,

"Oh? So you are the great princess of Panchaal." Disgust. It was one emotion that Draupadi had no issue identifying, from the words that the woman spoke as she walked in, like she owned the place. 

"Technically I should be seeking your blessings, as I am younger to you in our relationship.  But than again, if I look it from another perspective, you are younger to me. So I am a bit confused." The insult didn't go unnoticed by Panchaali, who blinked a few times, still trying to process the sudden entry of the woman.

And why was she being so rude with her? What had she done? The wife of Pandavas wondered gazing at the woman ahead of her.

She looked gorgeous, with a straight nose, and double chin. The woman had lean face, her murky dark eyes, had the malice of a snake, while her face had thick layer of make up.

She wore heaviest of jwellery, and clothes. Panchaali winced mentally, she must feel uncomfortable in them.

"I am really sorry, but I don't think we have met beforw. Or are acquainted in anyway." The fluent reply, came stronger than the princess of Panchaal felt.

No matter how weak, never show your weakness, to someone who has the potential to manipulate you.

A simple advice her mother had given her.

And she had made it her mission to follow it. Straightening her shoulders, evening out her breathing.

She smiled softly, putting on the mask, it came more naturally than she expected.

Shutting down every last of her thoughts, till there was nothing but numbness in her mind, she straightened.

Ready to face the music, more like the screeching that she knew would follow soon.

A part of her was curious, as to who this woman really was.

"You don't know me?" The shock in her words was apparent, Panchaali wanted to roll her eyes at the woman's short sightedness.

How was she supposed to know anyone in Hastinapur when she had met none?

Kinda obvious thing.

Confusion bubbled in her mind, but she kept her face carefully neutral, while she watched the woman laugh, like Panchaali had cracked the funniest joke ever.

"You don't know me?" She gasped in between her laughter, "Oh god, she doesn't know me. Can you believe it dasi?" She asked in between her chuckles,  laughing even harder, as the maid who she was asking paled. 

So, did every other woman in the room, fear swarming their senses.

Interesting.

Panchaali thought gazing at the woman, curiosity now unfurling in her chest.

Finally the obnoxious laughing stopped, abruptly.  Just as abrupt, as it had began. Her face turned dead serious, all the humour vanishing.

Like it never existed before.

She gave a sharp look to the maid beside her, who trembled.

"H..her..highness is the first wife of Prince Duryodhan.  Princess of Madhavpur, daughter of King Devraj Sidhupati. The most beautiful,  the most talented,  the perfect Princess Pauravi." Terror was a dominant emotion that laced every word of the maid.

The wife of Pandavas gazed evenly at the princess,  who had a smirk on her face. "Pranipat." Her greeting was even, and polite.

The princess ahead of Panchaali just nodded, a smirk tracing her red painted lips. Her murky malice brown eyes looked at her like she was the dirt on the princess' precious sandal.

"Now, that you know me, you shall remember, that I am the future queen of Hastinapur.

The grahswamini of Hastinapur.  And if you wish to live happily in this state, you shall follow all my orders like it's the air you breath." The woman stated, her voice deep with a self possessed assurance.

She walked around the room, gazing at Panchaali. As she spoke every word. Draupadi  kept on the soft polite smile.

Nothing annoys your enemies more than the smile on your face, the calmness and evenness that you carry yourself with.

And as expected she saw the twitch in the left eye of the woman, if she wasn't paying closer attention, she could have easily missed it.

"It doesn't matter, where you have come from. Or what people say you are, but you will follow my orders like they are gods words." She stated, this time a little too forcefully.

Her teeth greeting, as her jaw set. Eyes blazing with a fury so deep that threatened to burn everything around.

Draupadi just gazed at her, calmly. Though her insides were a mess, what sort of welcome was this?

A part of her heart broke a little more, she didn't know why she had expected,  the women of Hastinapur to be kind towards her.

Understand her. Yet, here she was.

A small part of her had hoped that at least the women of the family would be welcoming. But, how wrong had see been.

Meeting Queen Gandhari and her mother in law, had made her expect from the women.  After all, who could understand a woman better than another woman?

Yet, here women were enemies of each other. Brothers instead of love possessed hatred.

Elders were biased. People who were supposed to protect were destroying.

Yet, Hastinapur was considered the greatest and the most powerful kingdom. How? She couldn't understand.

The very base of the kingdom, was not strong.  The very base of the family was destroyed years back.

Everyone had a story, was more or less right on their places, yet were seeking the wrong path.

Elders like Pitahmah, who could see the devastation, and had knowledge of what was right, were struggling to maintain the balance,  to keep the place afloat.

However, this people seemed determined enough to sink their own boats. The familiar pulse of agony, throbbed in her chest. Making her hold back a wince.

She hated the heaviness on her chest, she hated crying. The burn in her eyes, she hated it all. But, crying seemed to be the only thing, she had been doing, since she had arrived here.

"Are you deaf or something?!" She roared, making the princess of Panchaal snap outof her thoughts, her gaze flicking at the enraged woman, who stood in front of her.

Your life is ten percent of the things that people do to you, and ninty percent of how you react to it.

Sure, she couldn't control the action of Pauravi,  but definitely she could control her reaction to it.

"Do you want me to talk back to you? Won't that be disrespecting?" Her calm words made Pauravi pause, she gazed at Panchaali like the princess had grown a second head.

She expected the new bride to snap back, to growl,  to resist or at least to cry. But all she saw was an unnerving calmness.

Either she was too smart or too dumb, Pauravi thought. For the first time in her life she didn't know what to make of a girl. Her behavior puzzled her more than anything.

She was getting under Pauravi's skin, making her glare at the girl frustrated. She didn't know what to say, if she said no, that would mean than anyone can talk back to her.

If she said yes, she'll look like a dumb woman. Who doesn't know a thing.

"Good, that you have realised your place." She taunted instead, an evil smirk slithered on her face.

"After all, who wouldn't? If I had been your place I would rather die." She spat the word, with a vengeance, that burned Panchaali's heart.

The wife of Pandavas,  however held her silence. Gazing evenly at the woman ahead of her.

"Very true. You indeed may have died. For it takes a backbone of steel to walk through the fire. Not, everyone can do it. It takes a certain special people to do so." Her words weren't loud like hers, neither did they drip with fury or hatred.

Just calmness.

Bone chilling calmness,  that evoked the cosmos of hatred in Duryodhan's first wife. Her face turned, a darker shade of scarlet

Glaring at the woman ahead of her, she growled, almost like an animal. The fury, that bubbled deep in her was like a lake of larva, that spread through her.

Dread seeped in the air, the maids trembled like dry leaves. Holding their breathes they awaited the wrath of their mistress to be unleashed on the woman ahead of them.

Hundreds of time they had seen her highness Pauravi, abuse other brides of the Kuru family. No one dared to speak against her.

A woman who had the support and love of her husband, was considered the strongest. Where Pauravi had the love of Duryodhan, many of the wives didn't. 

And Panchaali in this situation, they knew was in worse of a condition with no husbands out.

A woman's status is measured by her husband's, may it be in the family, or in the society.

A woman who was respected by her husband, was respected by all. And god forbid, if a woman was on her man's bad side, she might as well be the carpet outside the door, that anyone can walk over.

In a world of men, women had little to no place of their own. Royals, or commoners, they were all treated alike.

Gazing at the princess of Panchaal, the maids feared for her well being. Pauravi, had no mercy, and would take any measure to assure her reign.

If she considered Panchaali a threat, all it would take is to, flick her out like a fly from milk.

It would be that simple.

Terror settled in the air, it's pungent scent burning the hearts of all. Dreading the next step ahead,  they watched the duo.

Pauravi took a threatening step closer to the Draupadi, her face a mask of fury. "You don't know who you are messing with." The unusual calmness, in Pauravi's voice was more unnerving than anything before.

Illiciting a tremor of terror out of every soul. "I am not messing with you. Just stating a fact." No emotions, whatsoever flicked through the words of Panchaali, and that just fueled Pauravi's hatred for the woman ahead of her.

She breathed heavily, her fury pulsing through her like a raging volcano. She swirled around furiously, marching out of the room without another word.

Rage evident in every step, as she marched away, slamming the doors shut behind her.

She had entered like a cyclone of ego, and existed like the tornado of rage, just as unpredictable had been had her entry, so had been her exit.

Panchaali watched the door, raising a brow.

Well now, that was an interesting
encounter. Was all she could conclude.

Dhara watched from the shadows, her heart pumping furiously in her chest. Terror for the new princess rooting in her, Panchaali no idea which storm she had awoken.

And Dhara knew, Pauravi would make it her life's mission to prove to her, how powerful she really was.

Pauravi reigned the world of women, of the women in Hastinapur. And Panchaali had just challenged her unknowingly.

A forbonding feeling settled deep in her stomach. Like a heavy boulder sat in there.  The concern for her new friend gawking in her stomach.

Panchaali had no idea, that Hastinapur, was a maze with the most poisonous of snakes, that looked like people.

And disguised as family. Pain was a constant companion of those who dared to rebel, specially if a woman, raised her head.

It was crushed faster than anything before. It wasn't the reign of King Pandu after all. It was the reign of King Dhritrashtr, the one whose birth was most awaited.

Who turned the darkness of his life, in a dark blaze that instead of lighting Hastinapur with joy,  had made it a cremation ground.

Where everyday someone's happiness turned ashes, someone's joy took it's last breath. Where evil resided, and sin nutured.

The last flame of righteousness was behind the bars, and people were left without hope. . .

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