#sahadeva

[stxrrynxghts]

[hum-suffer]

It's A Farce

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Yuddhishthir smiles at him and tells him that he's fine, it's not a big deal. The wound on his eldest brother's bicep bleeds and curls, and for a moment all Sahdev can think is: I did this. I asked him to accompany me. I should have seen that uneven field. How could I let any animal near my brother? The skin on the inside of his mouth turns red as he keeps biting it, and Yuddhishthir laughs, throwing an arm around Sahdev and the curve of his elbow matches the curve of his wound.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Bheem tells him about a grey coloured flower, about how it's the nature of the flower and not Sahdev's neglect of the tree and he feels the ache of a lifetime rush in his eyes as he stares at a flower, dead and cold, because he forgot to give it to Mata. Bheem puts the dead flower in his hair with pride, claiming Sahdev as a new botanist, and Sahdev swears that he will make something that will have Bheem's name echoed through the world, name a flower after him.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Arjun holds him close and tells him tales untrue about their father. Neither of the boys remember his voice, and Arjun holds him all the time when he realises that Sahdev doesn't even know that he has a maternal uncle— he barely remembers how his mother sounded like. Arjun tells him long tales, laughable pranks, and tales of victories. Sahdev falls asleep in his arms, and as his eyes close, he feels a tear that isn't his, rolling down his cheek.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Nakul pretends that he isn't hungry anymore and fights with Mata about eating the same sweet fruits and pushes all of his fruits in Sahdev's direction and stomps off to find some other fruits for himself. Sahdev waits for him, even as everyone else falls asleep, and even if he can't see that well in the dark of the night, he knows there are no residual fruit juices on Nakul's fingers. Sahdev sneakily wipes his dirty hands before Nakul can see and feeds his brother the fruits that he collected, even when Nakul says he's full. Nakul eats all of the fruits, even the too ripe ones, with a crooked proud smile.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Mata tells them they'll be safe with their cousins in the royal family. Cousin Suyodhan seems to take it as a personal insult whenever Sahdev and his brothers are more comfortable in their asharam, their years of experience in forest comes handy and Sahdev feels eyes burning into his hands as he starts a fire for the food. Sahdev burns his fingers that day, and Sushasan says he's sorry for accidentally bumping into Sahdev.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Mama Shakuni tells them about their stay in a palace built especially for them, which doesn't require fire to be illuminated because there are mirrors all over the palace that reflect the moonlight. The palace is drenched in silver light, and Sahdev takes a deep breath as he appreciates the beauty of it and it is then that he smells the wax and turns around, just in time to see Yuddhishthir's hand almost slip from the wall he is leaning on.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as Vasudev tells them that they may go home and live a happy life after being married to Krishnaa. She doesn't talk to anyone for days on end, but he sometimes catches her whimpering in the night, and he can't help but run a hand down her hair when she pretends to sleep on the hay. It's his first time comforting someone, and his hand is trembling and unsteady, he worries it'll be too heavy to rest on her head and hovers awkwardly. Her eyes don't open until morning, but the next night onwards, she sleeps beside him and doesn't open her eyes until dawn.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as their land is divided and everyone seems so pained but no one will say anything to cousin Duryodhan and uncle Dhritrashtra and Sahdev feels the burn marks on his fingers go tighter and Mata knows him too well because she sends him a look and he keeps his words in his throat, burning again.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as they receive an invitation. It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce.

No one looks at him to ask what is wrong as he kneels and chokes on air that night in his room. There's no arm around his shoulders, no flower in his hands, no stories in his ears, no fingers that pinch his cheeks, no comforting presence beside him, and no wise words.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as he sees his own nephew burn in a pyre. He wishes he was burning instead. Fire kissed, the heirs of Pandu. Scorched. Yuddhishthir's burnt hands, Bheem's burning eyes, Arjun's scorching words, Nakul's furious sword, Sahdev's burnt fingers and— Abhimanyu's burnt body.

It's a farce, Sahdev thinks, as he kneels and holds his sosn to his chest, telling them that the war will end soon and they'll go home and it will all be fine and they're doing the right thing. He presses kisses to his sons and nephews, telling them all that they just need to pass this time, it's a whirlpool of death and they just need to hold steady and it'll all be fine.

It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce. It's a farce.

The day his children die, Sahdev uses his dagger to scrape off two birthmarks that he had passed onto his sons. Shrutsena, his wise child, had a dark blotch of a birthmark that Sahdev had passed on. Shrutsena wore it with pride on his neck and Sahdev scrapes off his own birthmark that rests on his clavicle. Suhotra had an almost half moon shaped birthmark passed onto him, he touched it whenever he was angry. The skin around his mark on his elbow was always red, just because of his temperament and the consequential habit. Sahdev scrapes off the same mark from his left calf.

The blood feels like a farce.

Does blood really matter, these days?

[friend-shaped-but]

Reunions

Thirteen years ago, Krishna had taken Dhrishtadyumna and Shikhandi aside and told them in no uncertain terms that they would not be taking out their anger of the Pandavas on their sons. Thirteen years later, Shikhandi takes them aside and looks them in the eye, telling them with pride, and a hint of warning that their boys have changed and grown into men. Nakul knows why his tone holds warning, even if the others may not get it. He gets the message loud and clear.

They have changed, and you are not to fault them for that.

So he doesn't.

He just observes.

He observes Draupadi's brothers run into the room, Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas running to her and each of them grabbing one of her hands and pulling her ahead to join the rest of them. They're twins, just like him. She's a twin, just like them. Just like half of Panchal's sons. Kumara and Panchalya tackle her in a bear hug, with Prince Satyajit shouting 'careful, careful' in the background. A rare exclamation of joy, rarer in these years, slips out of her mouth when she sees a laughing Shikhandi and a softly smiling Dhrishtadyumna. She shakes off her younger brothers and runs to them. After all, they are her favourites.

With her husbands, she cannot afford to have favourites. With them, she cannot be free. She is always their wife, their queen, and although she gets love in both Panchal and Indraprastha, she gets freedom only with her brothers. It reminds him of himself, a memory flitting across his mind of rambunctious young boys, one getting him in a headlock, another trying to pull it apart, one leaning tiredly against the wall and yet another pulling him to join his brothers. Call him soft-hearted, but his heart always clenches when she laughs freely, like she hasn't done for so long, and that can only be done with her brothers.

But then, from behind them, her sons show up. He observes Kalyani tear up, hands on her mouth, and how Prativindhya is quick to put an arm around her and pull her close and wipe her tears. He towers over her now. He'd always wondered how his second-eldest nephew was doing. A part of him had died after that day, and Nakul feared it wasn't coming back anytime soon. He'd always been close to his mother. Sutasoma and Shrutakarma, he notes, are probably crying more than her, and his heart does a little flip-flop. Shatanik is stone-faced, thoughts flitting through his mind and flickering in his eyes, but his mouth doesn't betray any of it. He looks calm, and absently, Nakul murmurs, 'you've changed, duckling,' and promises himself never to say that out loud. The children are painfully aware of that fact, they don't need to be told. But when she hugs the four of them, Shatanik looks up, caught in the moment as if a deer in the headlights, and then hugs all of them, shifting them and almost picking them up with the force of his hug. Nakul shakes his head in fond exasperation. He had never been good at showing people he loved them. And being trained by the Parshatas would have exacerbated that. But it was alright, he knew how to read emotions from the slightest curl of a fist, the minutest furrow of eyebrows, and the tiniest twitch of an eye.

He observes Prativindhya, turned away from his father, his face painted with slight disgust and his hands crossed. He observes how Sutasoma is quick to swallow, unsuccessful at hiding the lump in his throat, his eyes murky with the film of tears on them. He sees Bheem look at him for only a moment before nearly crushing his son in a hug, picking him up like he was feather-light and asking him about his health and his food and what he'd been up to. He sees Shrutasen stand stiffly as Sahadev looks at him, really looks at him, both of them so stiff and awkward it makes him want to tease his brother and push them closer for a hug. But he knows Shrutasen was barely eleven when they left, and does not know how to interact with a man he scarcely remembers. He also has more important things to do, namely, seeing his own son.

This time around, Shatanik observes him. He's rough around the edges, and his arms on his father's and he is intently looking at him, his eyes narrow and searching. "I've missed you kid," he says, gruffly. He does not call the man in front of him duckling. He does not feel he would like that. Shatanik nods. "Same," he whispers.

But Shatanik's eyes keep darting across the room, and he turns to look. The sight makes a deep, deep discomfort buried within him resurface, and he rolls his eyes at how predictable his brother is being. Shrutakarma is ecstatic to see his father. After all, Yudhamanyu must have told him a lot of stories.

But Arjun has walked right past him to see Subhadra and Abhimanyu. Arjun probably doesn't even realize what he has done in his excitement. But Shrutakarma walks off to stand in a corner, downcast. The action had been done, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, and Shrutakarma cannot see intentions. He can only see effects. But despite all that had happened, Nakul smiles. He remembers the kid.

He remembers a five year old, running through the stables with Shatanik and the stablehands running behind him and stopping only when he came to the strange horses Krishna had given him. He remembers Shatanik listening to him patiently as he rattled off about each of them, his face alight with joy and excitement. Nakul looked at the two of them, how their eyes seemed to search for each other in a crowded room and deduced that he had continued being loyal to Shatanik, and Shatanik, in turn had morphed his patience into a fiery protectiveness.

Shatanik guides him over to his youngest nephew and Nakul just smiles and opens his arms. He bites back a gasp at how quickly Shrutakarma comes to him and hugs the poor boy back. Shatanik rests a hand on his brother's back, and a thin smile splits his face. Nakul drags him into the hug, pressing his head Shatanik's neck, taking a deep breath and smiling to himself. Vindhya and Shatanik are taller than his brother and him respectively. Shatanik awkwardly pats his shoulder.

Shatanik needs time, he senses. To come to terms that this is real. There is a lot going on behind that large forehead, and it needs to settle before his son comes to him.

Nakul decides to wait. They have time, don't they?

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

Sahadev: I know what this is about. You're jealous of all the attention Karna is getting. Especially from Krishna.

Arjun: Please. You think I care if Krishna gives some other guy some attention? How insecure do you think I am?

Arjun: Seriously, how insecure do you think I am? I need you to tell me. Will you please tell me?

[lovelyllamasblog]

"In his dream"

OG Artist: @/siraco (Danbooru) (Twitter)

[theramblergal]

Do you have any thoughts on Karenumati and Vijaya?

PS: I love your writing!!!

SO many thoughts!

Karenumati:

Baby.

No, seriously, she's the baby of the PandavaParivaara.

Pampered daughter, definitely. I like to think Shishupala loved his daughter very much, it adds complexities (TM) to their relationship.

She's also pampered by her sisters-in-law/brothers-in-law and Mata Kunti ALL THE TIME. (She feels a bit suffocated at times.)

She fell madly in love with Nakula when she was pretty young, and Shishupala was loathe to deny his daughter anything so he proposed a marriage alliance when she was old enough.

I headcanon her as a curious person. She wants to know the why and the how of everything and anything under the sun. Combine this with the indulgence of literally everyone around her: she asks WAY too many questions (and not always the most tactful ones).

She feels like a replacement many times. When she was younger it stemmed from Shishupala's side glances when he was in a sullen mood (she wondered if he ever thought of his imagined children with Rukmini and judged her wanting); sometimes in Indraprastha she feels like a side-piece, a little ornament that is handled with too much care and only put on display for people to fawn over.

Other than Sahadeva, she gets along with Yudhishthira the most out of all her brothers-in-law. Surprising? Maybe. Despite the wide age gap, Yudhishthira's kindness does not feel indulging; no matter how many questions she asks, he always answers patiently.

Nakula takes her on the best outings and always treats her devastatingly romantically. She loves it, but sometimes she provokes arguments with him just to feel a little bit older.

She desperately wants to understand Rukmini better, but after seeing her father for so many years, she cannot help the distance that is between them every time they meet. But ater Shishupala's death, she breaks down in Rukmini's arms.

She is the stricter parent when it comes to raising Niramitra, having experienced how too much indulgence can spoil you.

She enjoys spending the most time with the kids in Indraprastha (or anywhere else, really) because they only know her as someone older than them and they will treat her with respect because of it.

Krishnaa and Vijayaa are also two of the few people who give her due accord and treat her like an equal. While everyone else do try their best and pull it off most of the time, Renu does feel like they still think of her as a child/younger so they are less likely to treat her as older.

Vijayaa:

I like to call her the Tinkerer.

Hehe. But yes, to me, Vijayaa rarely has need for words because she is always busy tinkering with something, taking it apart or fixing it.

Her hands are never still; they're always busy with some object or the other. If there's nothing in her hands, she cannot keep them still and it's a tic of hers to constantly fidget.

Even while she's in court, she'll be poking at something or the other, and everyone smiles fondly at her.

So. She rarely speaks, much like Sahadeva. She has a soft, lilting voice that can carry across an audience, however, and the kids will often run to her with requests for bedtime stories.

She and Sahadeva loved each other since they were young teenagers, and they would steal time together on his visits to Madra. It wasn't even a question of who she would choose in her svayamvara ceremony.

Her family would tease her about not needing to hold a svayamvara and skip directly to the marriage directly, but she held her ground firmly on wanting a svayamvara for the kingdom's sake.

Their love is quiet but no less passionate than their siblings' more fiery, whirlwind romances. Vijayaa knows she'll always have someone to speak all her unspoken thoughts to in Sahadeva; and Sahadeva knows Vijayaa will always sit in him with silence for hours or days if need be.

She takes Karenumati under her wing when she arrives at Indraprastha, recognizing her need to prove herself and a person to express herself freely with.

Her love language is gifting others; she makes the most beautiful things with her own hands and gifts them to all her family members. She's always working on passion projects; Sahadeva brings back interesting knick-knacks from the corners of the country when he's out travelling because he knows what she likes.

She didn't have many friends in her childhood despite being one of Madra's princesses, because she was too quiet and too absorbed in the works of her hands. The other noble daughters would frequently tease her for this, but she never paid them much heed.

One of her works that she's most proud of is the intricate gold bangles she crafted from scratch for Krishnaa when she gave birth to Shrutasena. Krishnaa never takes them off. (Not even during the Dyuta, I would like to say.)

She tries her best to see Lakshmanaa at least once a year, which is no hardship considering how often the Yadavas visit Indraprastha or the other way around, and frequently writes long letters to her cousin.

That's about it for now, I think? That was long. But I do love the PandavaPatnis.

[livingtheparadoxlife]

Even as a child, Uttaraa's eyes had been laden with dreams. Dreams of a family filled with love and life and laughter, of a world colored in shades of joy, of anklets ringing with the heaven's tunes, of dreams dreamt with rose colored lenses.

She had seen those dreams come to life in her brothers' roaring laughter while they sparred, in the twinkle in her parents' eyes while they spoke, in the elegance of her teacher's steps, in the endless pampering of her in- laws, in the the tenderness of her husband's voice as he whispered her name, in the euphoria of a child moving inside of herself.

And then, she had held the pieces of her shattered dreams in her hands and looked on at a world devoid of all colors that still reeked of death and she had wept. She had wept till the child that was supposed to have died in her womb had screamed himself hoarse and all of a sudden, colors had filled into her world.

They were muted and dull and nowhere near as vivid as the ones she had dreamt of, but they were colors nonetheless. And for now, they were enough.

[blackknight-100]

MAHABHARAT THEATER!AU FIC

Chapter 7 is up!

Excerpt:

[Arjuna] catches up to Karna at the landing and together, they make their way down the hallway. The smoke is somehow worse this time around, and every step feels like the last. There’s no sniping – neither of them have the breath to spare, but they keep throwing dirty glances at each other. The fire, instead of dying down, has grown even bigger, and little flakes of ash and wood float about in the air.  Karna peers into one of the rooms on the left, and Arjuna hears him wince. The door has collapsed, and a bar of wood burns diagonally across, making it impossible to get inside. Arjuna pokes his head behind Karna’s shoulder, waits for his stinging eyes to adjust. Through the pall of smoke, he makes out a prone figure sprawled on the ground, clad in white.

[aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna]

Krishna: i got 108 names

Arjuni: yes so?

Krishna: but i just wanna be called yours

Arjuni: *blushes like mad*

Draupadi: just confess already, Aryaputri Arjuni!

Arjuni: B-but i d-don't LIKE him!

Draupadi: yea cus you LOVE him. And also, i didn't say who

Arjuni: . . .

Krishna: *snorts*

Later*

Nakul who was stalking them: *whispering* this blackmail is soo worth it...

Sahadev who was with him: i know right...

[meenammal]

. . . Pandavas all cast their eyes upon the princess of Panchala. And the princess of Panchala also looked at them all. And casting their glances on the illustrious Krishna, those princes looked at one another. And taking their seats, they began to think of Draupadi alone. Indeed, after those princes of immeasurable energy had looked at Draupadi, the God of Desire invaded their hearts and continued to crush all their senses. As the lavishing beauty of Panchali who had been modelled by the Creator himself, was superior to that of all other women on earth, it could captivate the heart of every creature.

And Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, beholding his younger brothers, understood what was passing in their minds. And that bull among men immediately recollected the words of Krishna-Dwaipayana. And the king, then, from fear of a division amongst the brothers, addressing all of them, said, 'The auspicious Draupadi shall be the common wife of us all.'

"Vaisampayana continued, 'The sons of Pandu, then, hearing those words of their eldest brother, began to revolve them in their minds in great cheerfulness.

Mahabharata, Vaivahika Parva, Adi Parva

So that answers why did Pandavas have to take a common wife, straight from the horse's mouth. It is remarkable that various other sibling groups managed to stay friendly without lusting after the beautiful woman "won" by one of the siblings.

Now I wonder if Tumblr girlies will cancel and block Veda Vyasa for maligning their favourite characters 🤣🤣🤣

[blue-lotus333]

(Draupadi & krishna art belongs to @pikachustrut , idk abt some others tho)

[stxrrynxghts]

Yudhishthira: Nothing in life is free. Bhima: Love is free! Sahadeva: Adventure is free. Arjun: Knowledge is free. Nakul: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

[hum-suffer]

Devout

Bheem has always been a devout man.

He is the one who takes Sahadev to the nearest Mahadev temple in the forest, built by some anonymous and obscure person. Bheem had to walk several miles in several different directions everyday for a week before he found the temple. It's abandoned, and Bheem spends another day cleaning it up while everyone else goes about their tasks. The next day, when he takes Sahadev there and they're both sitting down in front of the Shivling, Bheem stares at Sahadev as his youngest brother mutters mantras and chants, almost shaking. Sahadev's skin flushes red and Bheem, he doesn't know what else to do. He uses the water meant for Shiva Abhishek and splashes it on Sahadev.

Nakul has always loved spring— he has been a connoisseur of everything regarding nature. Nature looks even more beautiful in spring, Nakul says, and Bheem agrees, even though he really prefers the orange and red huges of autumn. Nakul picks flowers, says they are for the spring god— Vasant dev— and Bheem follows his lead, picking more flowers from the ground. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, so he keeps the flowers in his arms even after Nakul lets his flowers flow in a nearby river with a soft prayer. Later, when Nakul is laying down, his hair in Bheem's lap, Bheem puts the flowers in Nakul's hair.

Arjun grows up way too fast, Bheem thinks. He carries around a carved wooden plate that shows Narayan and Devi Lakshmi, sitting together on different lotuses. Arjun carved it two days before Pitashri and Mata Madri died, he had intended to give it as a gift to Mata Madri, knowing that she was a devotee of Lakshmi-Narayan. The tiny wooden plate leaves scars in Arjun's hands as he holds it tightly as they escape the Lakshagrah. Bheem holds his hand, the wooden plate squeezed between both their hands, and it leaves imprints on Bheem for days to come. On the following Ekadashi—which was just the next day— when Arjun bathed the plaque in kumkum, Bheem washes Arjun's hand with tumeric and Chandan.

Jyeshth doesn't really have time for himself on a lot of days. He's either busy with reading reports, preparing plans and policies, listening to the public's complaints or going on an inspection in some area or the other. He often forgets to eat. When Bheem takes up as his second-in-command and starts shadowing him, jyeshth laughs and says that Bheem need only relax— for the politics is the sole responsibility of the King, and he cannot pawn it off to the Crown Prince, younger brother he may be. When jyeshth prays at the Hanuman ji temple at noon everyday, Bheem, who has now taken to carrying around food, quietly puts down a leaf plate and serves jyeshth food while his eyes are closed.

Krishnaa is younger, by days and by mind. She is extremely easy to excite and she believes in fickle things like equality. Bheem hasn't known equality since they were kids and they lived in a forest in a happy family of eight, eating the same fruits everyday. She has a routine, a strict one, and she adheres to it in a way that is almost manic. Everyday, after bathing, she dresses a small murti of Kali Mata, always in reds and always in different patterns. She has custom made sarees and gajras for the murti. And only after dressing Mata Kali, does Panchali dress. Bheem helps her drape her saree, pressing down creases and straightening out pleats. Even in her open hair, Bheem curls a gajra on the back of her hair, going from ear to ear.

They laugh with him when he overeats— he doesn't know how else to burn down the energy that is threatening to come alive under his skin. He wants to scratch the surface and draw blood and see if it is as hot as it feels. Bheem curls his palms into fists and he sees his veins bulge and the blood caked under his nails and wonders if that is all he is worth— the fight, the blood, the strength.

The powerful one, they call him. Bheem wonders if he hadn't been powerful, what would he be? A poet, perhaps. He would write sonnets on the way Krishnaa's eyelashes curled when she blinked twice in the same sentence— a tell tale sign of her lying. He would write a poem on the way Sahadev always cracked his knuckles loudly, uncaring of the situation. He would write about Nakul's slight limp, which formed when they were escaping Lakshagrah. He would write about the barely visible scars on Arjun's forearm and palms, all because of blisters from holding his bow and arrow. He would write about the way jyeshth curls his hand in the air and closes his eyes, as if beckoning a melody that only he can hear.

Bheem would perhaps write about the horror he feels when he thinks of his abandoned wife and child— when he knows he kissed Hidimbi's ankles and promised her that he is but a slave in her service. He remembers that he washed his hands five times a day and perhaps even more— to the point where his skin had started to shed layers— just to make sure he wouldn't get any blood on Ghatotkach. He would write that he broke his nails, trying to get out the blood and skin from under his nails, before he embraced his son after 13 years. Bheem would write, that his sons were proud, valiant, and chivalrous.

And perhaps, in the last page of a ballad to never be spoken and repeated, Bheem would write, in hushed breath and hurried hand, about himself. He would write the rush of power he feels every time he hears bones break under his grip. He would write about the snarl that he knows that takes over his lips when someone angers him. He would write that he doesn't need weapons to kill— he's always been a weapon, the best among them.

Bheem would write that he still splashes Sahadev with water when he gets panicked about the future, he would write that he still brings flowers to Nakul, he would write that he still washes Arjun's blisters with tumeric, he would write that he still serves food to jyeshth, he would write that he still drapes Krishnaa's saree.

In the last line, Bheem would claim himself a devout man.

But, alas, he was not a poet.

[friend-shaped-but]

[krishna-premi]

how i imagine draupadi's relationship was with her husbands

Draupadi Yudhishthir: They both would spend hours reading together. Draupadi was a curious soul and Yudhisthir was more than happy to suggest and talk about books with his beloved wife. They both would spend time next to each other in a comfortable, peaceful silence. They would sometimes meditate together too. Yudhisthir would leave books around her with small letters inside.

Draupadi Bheema: Draupadi quickly realised the easiest way to Bheema's heart was through cooking for him and that's what she did. Bheema would help her cook a lot. Bheema would often bring fruits and leave them around her as gifts. Bheema would always be around to protect her no matter what. I also believe Draupadi caressed his cheeks a lot idk why I think that but I do.

Draupadi Arjuna: We all know she was in love with him the most. She would sneak glances at him from time to time. Arjuna too looked at her when she wasn't looking. He would accompany her to the temple a lot and would put gajra in her hair. Because he was a shy soul he found it difficult to hold a conversation but you would always find them glancing when the other isn't looking and giving each small smiles across the room.

Draupadi Nakula: They both talked only sometimes, small conversations, little pranams when they saw each other. Nakula would sometimes trach her basic medicines and herbs too. One thing they did was take a stroll in the garden together. They would walk next to each other but still having distance in between and would admire the flowers around them. Nakula too would bring her gajras but he was too shy to pin them in her hair so he would just keep it next to her hoping she'd understand.

Draupadi Sahadev: Being the youngest among the five brothers, Sahadev got the most love by his brothers but also a lot of trying to be as good as them. He would joke around Draupadi a lot and they had a playful relationship with each other. Draupadi laughed most openly around Sahadev and he cherished these private moments of happiness with his wife. Draupadi would also help Sahadev to be more confident as he often felt that he lacked strength and skills as compared to his brothers.

This is my personal interpretation of their relationships. I feel like sometimes they would all hangout together and all five of them would being gifts for Draupadi. Idk this is so fulfilling to me.

[musingsonthemahabharata]

main characters from the Mahābhārata, part V: Nakula & Sahadeva! to me, they are the unsung Pāṇḍavas. not much is known about them mainstream-wise as opposed to the other three brothers - which is unfortunate as they are such interesting characters! i compiled my favourite (and, in my opinion, most fascinating) facts about them in this series, such as:

Sahadeva, the youngest of the brothers, has the gift of sight, which he gains at Paṇḍu's funeral by eating a piece of his corpse that was carried by ants

Nakula can communicate with animals and is especially adored by horses. Draupadī names him the most beautiful man on Earth; after her disrobing, he veils his face as they depart for exile so women do not see his beauty and do not grieve him too harshly

& many more!

artwork credit: Vamchi Vams. (sadly, not much art has been created of them either!)