Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Says Gandhari to her Friend – I
It is believed that Lord Shiva granted Gandhari, the daughter of King Subala of Gandhara, the boon of bearing a hundred sons. This was the reason why she was chosen by Bhishma to be the bride of the blind prince Dhritarashtra, making her the eldest daughter-in-law of the Kuru dynasty. In popular tellings of the Mahabharata, when Gandhari discovers that Dhritarashtra was born blind, she blindfolds herself. Why does she do so? Perhaps this was an act of pure love and wifely devotion. Perhaps she wanted to share fully in her husband’s life by walking in his shoes.
in last night’s dream
the blue of the hills
like eyebrows
Sakhi, do you remember the day you found out?
I was watching peacocks dancing in the rain,
their blue necks glistening,
when you came running to tell me.
I had been deceived, you said, he was blind.
Just that morning, you had lined my eyes with kohl.
A princess without kohl in her eyes is no princess, you always said.
I thought of that before I swooned.
You know the rest of course –
my girlish decision to blindfold myself
for wasn’t that what good wives did,
even though, sakhi, you tried to dissuade me.
You have always known how lopsided things are, how unequal.
“Would he do this to himself if it was you who was blind?” you asked,
but I was deaf to all good sense.
A hundred sons I bore him and one daughter.
And I know not their faces, dear sakhi.
I have learnt, it’s true,
to see with my fingers their broad contours,
to move with firmer, surer steps within my chambers.
but mine, unlike his, is an imperfect seeing,
since I came to it so late.
My fingers cannot see
the blue-hued hills,
nor trace the orange curve of the sun.
My ears don’t hear
the tilt of Duryodhana’s head
nor that rustle when he leans forward.
All that Dhritarashtra sees I don’t.
He sees our children, dear Sakhi,
the way I did those peacocks dancing in the rain
that fateful day.
Sakhi, there are days when my fingers long to undo
the knot of my blind fold just to know Dussala’s smile.
What keeps me, you ask.
I wonder, Sakhi,
can my eyes take the light?
Will the world take colour and shape?
Will you line my eyes with kohl again?
Will I see even less than I do now?
Says Gandhari to her Friend – II
Irawati Karve reads Gandhari’s decision to blindfold her eyes as an act of protest and resentment. In Yuganta, she describes a conversation between Gandhari and Dhritarashtra, in the presence of Kunti and Vidura. All four have embraced vanaprasthashrama and are conscious of having entered the final stage of their lives. Dhritarashtra says to Gandhari, “Without being told of my blindness you were married to me. We did you a thousand wrongs, Gandhari. But you have paid them back. Can’t you ever forgive and forget?” He adds that Gandhari has punished him severely for all the wrongs they did to her. “…at the wedding ritual when you stood with your eyes bound, I did not take it too seriously,” he says, “I thought that I would plead with you and be able to extinguish your anger with my love. But that was not to be. At night when you came to the bedchamber, your eyes were still bound, and you came stumbling, clutching someone’s hand. I was born blind. I had become used to moving about without seeing. But you had deliberately covered your eyes. Your body was not used to blindness…. I thought that instead of forcing you with my authority, I would persuade you in time. But your first day’s resentment became permanent. When you had children, I thought of saying, ‘Gandhari, if not for me, at least to see the face of your child, unbind your eyes.’ But by that time my heart too had hardened. Perhaps you would have done it for the children, but I was not ready to give you the chance. I had a kind of revengeful pleasure in knowing that you would never see the face of your son. Going around with your eyes bound, you were playing the part of a devoted wife.” Dhritharashtra then urges Gandhari to remove her blindfold. When she uncovers her eyes, Gandhari is at first unable to see clearly. Slowly she learns to get about using her eyes.
watching
last night’s dream –
my eyes unseeing
“Don’t become your own jailor, Gandhari,” you said,
“this is no way to protest. We will find others.”
Maybe you were right, sakhi,
but my anger blazed hotter than the desert sun
and this was the only way I knew would work for sure.
I walked into a prison,
a prison of my own making, you always said.
He says that too, sometimes.
I bear a great cross, Gandhari, won’t you relent?
But tell me sakhi, in all these years,
have you thought of other ways to protest?