The streets of Hastinapur were crowded, as usual. Vendors shouted trying to sell their products. As women and men alike formed little groups around various shops.

Bargaining and inquiring about the products. The mouthwatering smell of sweets from a nearby shop sat heavily in the air, along with the smell of sweat and sand.

Panchaali gazed around the place curiously, listening to the different accent of Hastinapur, and the style of speaking. Voices here were a little deeper, and had a higher pitch.

It felt good to be just a number, a normal person, even if it was only for awhile. Dressed in a plain yellow lehnga, she pulled the odhni down a little more, veiling her face even more.

She couldn't let anyone know she was out. Sitting still in that room was making her go crazy, walking out eased her mind a bit.

She sighed, pushing back the dark thoughts, she walked around on the dirt road. A smile tracing on her lips, while she watched a couple of kids, running around, squealing and giggling away.

"Rajkumari, do you think this is a good idea?" Dhara whispered, her voice laced with worry.

"Dhara, call me Draupadi. How many times do I need to tell you this? And second of all, what could go wrong? We are just taking a walk." She whispered softly, so others didn't hear. It was probably the hundredth time, she had told Dhara to use her name.

Panchaali didn't understand, what was so difficult in referring to her using her birth name?

She didn't believe in differences. To her equality was the biggest status, and humanity, the biggest religion.

"But..."

"Shhh." Panchaali cut off Dhara's protest, as her eyes fell on a man who was decked in heavy jwellery, and fine clothes, royal guards surrounded him.

As the villagers around bowed, Panchaali and Dhara following their suit.

"You!" He called pointing to one of the younger girls in the back, and four guards rushed towards here.

Confusion marred Panchaali's face.

"Please! Oh please, let me goo!!!" The girl screamed, as two soldiers wrapped their arms around the girl.

"Let me goo!! Maataaa!" She struggled screaming, her voice raising above all. An old couple cried in the corner, gazing at their daughter with pain in their eyes.

Crying and wailing, her scream pierced the sky. She struggled hard, as the royal man laughed, the malicious sound ringing everywhere.

What crime had the girl performed? She wondered. A guard slapped her hard, making the princess flinch. She went to stand up, but a hand wrapped around her wrist making her stay put.

"No princess! Please Don't interfere." Dhara whispered, she knew Panchaali wasn't understanding what was happening. And for the first time in her life, the handmaid was thankful for the princess' innocence.

"But..."

"Shh come with me!" The maid dragged her away, from the sight, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.

She put her hand on Panchaali's mouth silencing her, as she watched from the alley where they hid, Prince Dushasan kidnapped some more girls, kicking and screaming, taking them up, and away from their families.

"We need to go!" Dhara whisper yelled, tugging the confused princess along, fear and urgency laced her words, Panchaali followed confused.

The journey back to the palace was quite, a number of questions raged in Panchaali's mind. What was happening here?

There was something that was a miss, something that Dhara wanted her to stay away from. She gazed at her new friend, what was so wrong that had the people of Hastinapur leave in fear.

Walking the hidden tunnel, she awaited as the secret door opened to one of the hallways of the guest palace.

Thank the heavens for Dhara, working in the palace, since her childhood had enabled her to find some secrets.

Secrets that came handy for Panchaali. "You should rest Princess. I shall leave." Before the other could reply, the handmaid turned and rushed out of the room.

Avoiding the question, she knew would be fired at her. Panchaali frowned at the retreating back of the woman, something was fishy, but the question was what?

If they won't tell her than she herself will figure it out. But how? Her eyes settled on the trunk, that was kept in the left hand side of her room.

Should she use the pendant that was given to her by one of the sanyasis, who had been very pleased by her selfless nature. When she had saved the life of one.

She bit her lip, contemplating.

The sounds of her anklets filled the room, her steps, hesitant and uncertain. She crouched, opening the trunk, she pulled out a golden box that was hid in the confines, and pushed the lid open.

In there sat a fine golden beaded chain. It was nothing fancy, but a simple gold chain, with small golden beads spread all over evenly.

Undetectable, and insignificant enough, to easily be forgotten.

Pulling out the chain, she wrapped it around her neck, gazing down at it.

Taking in a deep breath, she imagined herself slowly fading in thin air. And just as expected, her body began to fade, from solid to almost a translucent form.

And than, became complete air.

Invisible.

Neither could she touch anything, or anyone. Just observe, and change her clothes as she wished.

It seemed useless enough to her, when it was gifted to her. She was practically a ghost.

Who can't influence anything around her, just change her clothes. It was unless, until now.

She walked around the room, passing through the nearest wall.

Biting back a squeal of surprise, as she felt a minuscule of pressure, before it disappeared, while she appeared on the other side of the wall.

But where shall I go? What place will have the answers to all my questions? Walking around for an hour together, achieved nothing but a headache.

She huffed, annoyance filling her senses. This is ridiculous...

"Did you know that Prince Dushasan, brought it another set of slaves." Whispered a maid, as she dusted the pillars, the other sighed heavily, her hands moving rapidly on the table vase.

"What is new in that? This Kauravas think, that they own everything. Dragging in women, and girls for slavery is nothing new. Use them till their disgusting minds are satisfied, and than throw them in the brothel." Spat the other woman.

"Lavarnya, shhhh. Don't speak of them in such a manner. If someone heard they'll behead us!" Whisper yelled the other maid, pausing in her endeavor, as she gazed at her friend.

Lavarnya scoffed, turning around, rage burning in her eyes.

"Surely, it would be better than working against our will. Better than taking the humiliation everyday. As children we were separated from our parents, are beaten till we are nothing but dead. And forced into slavery here. Look at this marks!" Words thick with emotions, as tears burned in her eyes.

She pulled aside her odhni, revealing her back, that had deep silvery white scars crisscrossing everywhere. Like someone had peeled her skin with peeler.

Draupadi's throat tightened, her eyes burned with tears. Pain thrummed through her.

"If the pandav brothers were out free, our situation would be different.

Since the day their death was announced, we were thrown in this hell again. And now, after all this years when they are back, now they are arrested.

How long do we need to wait, till they are out, till they fix everything? If the princes were free, we too would be free, alas our fate is cursed." The woman sobbed, breaking down in the center of the hallway.

"How dare you laze around?!" Growled a woman, build like a rock, and a sneer on her face. "Move to your work!" Roared the woman.

Panchaali watched frozen, as the women hurried back to her work. Her mind seemed to have grown numb, a tear tracked down her cheek.

She couldn't believe, that she had played a part in the arrest of a girl. Sure, she didn't do anything.

But standing aside, and watching, isn't it a crime too? Being silent when some crime is being done, is equal to supporting it.

She played a part in that girl's agony too. Her heart burned with a pain, as she gazed down at her hands. Tears tracking down her cheeks.

She bit her lip, crying will not help her in any case. She wiped her tears, gazing away out of the window.

She needed to stop this.

But the question was, how? How could she stop the princes of Hastinapur from doing such injustice, when her place in Hastinapur was not yet confirmed?

She was still on the fine lines of being accepted or not. A woman had no right without her man. A sour but true fact about her life.

She had to find a different way. Wiping her tears, she inhaled deeply, suppressing the blaze of agony, that threatened to consume her.

Walking back to her room, seemed like a task that was impossible to achieve. What was the point?

Anything, and everything she touched, seemed to just crumple under her influence. She wondered, why the gods had gifted her with such a cursed fate.

She didn't realise where her feet were taking her, it was like a pull that guided her deep in this maze of hallways.

Hastinapur, was a maze of illusions, everything was so shiny, so luxurious, and all the more grand, yet, who could imagine, injustice was in every brick of the palace, that was held together by the cement of hatred.

The greener the forest, the dangerous are the beasts in.

Her mother's words were something that always confused her, until now she realised the importance of them.

After all, what can be a better ally for a girl in her inlaws house, other than the advices of her mother?

Her feet seemed to have grown a mind of their own, the bone deep sadness that blanketed her heart, held a new cosmos of guilt in her chest.

Guilt.

It was one feeling she hated the most. The feeling that she had done something wrong, to someone innocent, cut deeper than she was willing to except.

She felt like a shattered glass, sharp edged, yet broken. . .

Everything she touched, was hurt.

Yet, she herself, was in the state of uselessness. Brokeness.

Gazing at the red heena filled hands, and the wedding bangles, she didn't know what to make of her life.

First day in Hastinapur, and she was not welcomed. Questions were raised on her character, her marriage, and her parenting.

Names. That she was called with, she tried to ignore. But, the ache intensified, everytime she heard the distant whispered, word about the slut princess.

Rumors of things she never committed circled the halls of Hastinapur, she tried to ignore most part of it.

After the arrest of the pandavas, they just seemed to escalate to a new level.

Her chain of thoughts broke, as the scent of daisies reached her senses, she sniffed the air.

The fragrance was heavy, gazing around her surroundings, she found herself in the garden's, the very similar ones where the pandavas had told her to drop the handkerchief at.

Gazing around, her gut twisted in a deeper ache. Why her? She wondered.

It was a question she always mulled over. Sitting against the wall in the corner, she gazed ahead at the beautiful garden.

Warm wind carrying along with it, the sweetest of smells of the flowers. The buzzing sound of the bees, almost tugging at her in a stupor.

She exhaled heavily. Her shoulders sagging with the unseen weight.

She hummed softly, trying to word out the pain in her heart. She yearned for her mother's arms, her advice, her guidance.

All too soon, she felt, all too lonely.

The family of royals in Hastinapur, was believed to be the largest, and the warmest to the new brides.

It was a fact, she had heard again from some of the people. Yet, here she was.

Among the crowds of hundreds, yet lonely.

A tear traced down her cheeks, a whimper passed through her lips, almost too silent for anyone to hear.

"Panchaali?" Concerned male voice, had her startling out of her thoughts, her heads snapped up as she heard the warm voice, deep sharper with concern.

Arjun.

The name was like a sacred whisper, she recognized his voice. Her heart seemed to slow a few paces.

Was she dreamin-

"Panchaali, is that you?" Breaking through her chain of thoughts, she heard him again.

Her heart soared with an unexplainable happiness.

"Arya?" Her voice was timid, almost too scared to speak out loud, as though her words would break the magic of the moment, and shatter it into nothingness.

How was her husband talking to her? Had she finally gone crazy. . .

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