Palace of Illusions
Chitra Lekha Banerjee Divakaruni,
Pan MacMillan, 2008,
pp 360, Rs 495.


Spice is clearly the secret of Divakaruni’s success, and this version of the Mahabharata, is no exception. Moving, from Mistress of Spices to Spice Girl herself, Divakaruni serves us a souped up version of Draupadi, unplugged.
We meet Draupadi and brother Dhri (Dristadyumna). They’re confined to separate quarters, and looked after by nurse Dhai Ma.

Draupadi, ‘The Girl Who Wasn’t Invited’ is full of resentment against father Drupad— beginning with her name; “But daughter of Drupad? Granted, he hadn’t been expecting me, but couldn't my father have come up with something a little less egoistic? Something more suited to a girl who was supposed to change history?
“I answered to Draupadi for the moment because I had no choice. But in the long run, it would not do. I needed a more heroic name.”

And then there’s the famous swayamvara, where Draupadi learns she will have no choice. She will have to garland whoever passes the archery test.

Perhaps this, like the great Indian arranged marriage, will turn out good (She will marry Arjuna, dreams Draupadi “To be the beloved of the greatest archer of our time. To be the woman whose smile made his heart beat faster, whose frown wounded him almost to death, whose advice guided his most important decisions?”)
Or perhaps it is wily statecraft, Drupad's effort to acquire a powerful ally (And now Draupadi is bitter. “My mouth filled with ashes. How foolish I’d been, dreaming of love when I was nothing but a worm dangled at the end of a fishing pole”)

Five husbands can be hard, and Draupadi takes us through the indignity of being divided five ways.
There’s the heart burn of enduring Arjuna's jealousness (“I was shaken by the bitter downturn of his mouth. I hadn’t expected him to care so much about the fact that I didn't belong to him alone”) the battles with Kunti for control. And above all her secret longing for Karna (“I confess: in spite of the vows I made each day to forget Karna, to be a better wife to the Pandavas, I longed to see him again. Each time I entered a room, I glanced up under my veil— I couldn’t stop myself— hoping he was there”)

Of course all of this is wildly speculative. Plus the romance bits read, in sections, like Mahabharata and Mills and Boon.

Still I found myself enjoying the book, much like I have enjoyed other stories that take their inspiration from this epic. Some like Arun Kolatkar’s ‘Sarpa Satra’ (poem on the burning of the Khandava forest from the snakes/asura's point of view ) and also Pratibha Ray’s Yajnaseni (Draupadi’s story told traditionally but provocatively) have been, truly eye opening.

Asura architect

The Palace of Illusions doesn’t quite get there. Yet, it’s racy and explores some interesting characters like Bheeshma. This in an unusual Iravati Karve kind of way (read her Yuganta for fascinating character sketches).
Also interesting were the sub stories— the Pandavas bond with Bheeshma, the Duryodhana Bhanumati equation, the relationship Panchaali has with her five sons and  the motivations of Maya, the asura architect of The Palace of Illusions, as well as the terrible sense of tragedy of the Kurukshetra battle.

Ignore then the Jackie Collinisms, and also the forced Indianisms (“it was so quiet, I swear, you could have heard a housefly fart” or “And my buttocks, I swear, they were flat as chapattis”). Instead, read this version for an interesting perspective on a timeless tale.

Sonya Dutta Choudhury