The Mahabharat is renowned for its great battles, heroic men, and gods walking the pathways of mortals. However, the beating heart of the epic is often forgotten―the stories of its women. Many of these exceptional women appear in Song of Draupadi―the indomitable Satyavati, the otherworldly Ganga, the indestructible Kunti, and the tenacious Gandhari―but the passionate and fiery Draupadi rises above them all to grip the imagination of the audience. Born of a dangerous sacrifice, Draupadi and her brother Drishtadumna are called forth to avenge Drona's insult to their father. While Drishtadumna is expected to kill Drona on the battlefield, Draupadi's role is not set out, but she dreams of fire and blood. From beloved daughter and princess of Panchala to wife of the brave Pandavas and queen of Indraprastha, Draupadi finds herself exiled to the forest, humiliated and determined on vengeance. The novel is a symphony, in several keys, of her voice and those of the other women around her―arguing, pleading, reasoning, and often raised in righteous anger.
The diversity of the Mahabharata is so vast that you will get narration from almost any character of it. I have read the purpspectives of not just Pandavas & Krishna but Duryodhana, Shakuni, Karna, wives & sisters of these characters. The most touching of these narrations is that of females who played a pivotal role in the story but were always given a smaller platform than their male counterparts in mythological literature. Recently many authors have taken it to next level and have given females their due platform. In all those literature, the story from Draupadi's point presents a more vivid picture of the Kaurava dynasty's family values.
When I selected "Song of Draupadi" I was expecting a story from or of Draupadi. Instead, the book delivered more stories than just Draupadi's. Let's remove magic from the epic and now tell me which characters were landmarks in the story. You may give names like Bhishma, Pandu, Dhritrashtra, Kauravas, Pandavas & Krishna. I am not talking about who fought the war, I am talking about why they turned towards war. Why did Bhishma take auth of celibacy? Why did Shakuni take auth of revenge? What happened during Game of Dice? Why did Pandavas share a common wife? All questions will finally end with one or another female character. Ira has painted that canvas for us. Read the book to know more.
Good points about the book 1. Attractive cover design, one cannot forget such a nicely designed cover. 2. Fluid language for smooth reading 3. Diversity in capturing female issues of that time 4. Strong character building that makes us adore even minutest contributor
Draupadi has always been one of my favorite characters from the Mahabharata. I remember the first time when I read the Epic, I was mad at Draupadi's predicament and the way she was being treated. I was mad at her helplessness, and yet proud of her resilience and strength of character. When I heard about Ira Mukhoty's take on Draupadi I couldn't help but read it.
There has been countless retellings, so what sets this one apart? Well, one among many is definitely Mukhoty's writing. The way she has described not just the era but also the emotions was ethereal. There's a kind of magic in her prose that enthralls the reader and ensnares their attention instantly.
When a story is retold this beautifully, with facts that have not been morphed or altered for the sake of it, the outcome definitely turns out to be something to look out for. There were a few facts that I wasn't entirely aware of and reading them made me visualize history in a way that school textbooks somehow failed to. Song of Draupadi is an ode to the women of Mahabharata and the women of that era whose voices have always been subdued by their male counterparts and whose strength and dreams add glory to the timeless Epic.
Another retelling of the Mahabharata? But then over a period of time and geography, the great epic has been retold, parts added and parts shorn off in its journey to fascinated readers and listeners. Ira Mukhoty's debut novel Song of Draupadi is the latest retelling that looks at the women in the scheme of things that make up events in the Mahabharata, or rather, let's amend that : this book looks at the women, the situation they found themselves in and the way they maneuvered their ways.
What works for this retelling is how the author strips away the divine/God like qualities in both the male and female protagonists and makes them more humane. There is a grandness in their characters, yes, but instead of magical prowess, we find each one is a bit more infallible and their wranglings around the concept of Dharma or virtue or righteousness is the one constant that stays in the narrative, making this rendition fresh and yet rooted in the ethos of the epic. So Bheesma's personality as the one steadfast to the oath he gives to the woman his father wants to marry, comes with a belated rethinking that is too late and the story behind his mother's absence in his life is tied not with that of a river goddess but a spirited woman who was stifled with the ways of the palace and is affected in unsaid aways by her pregnancies.
A strain that runs through the narrative is about agency: in the way that one's Dharma to the position that one holds is kept over everything else, in the way that each of the women in the epic are made to be where they don't want to, from Ganga to Giridhari to Amba to Kunti to Draupadi. Each of the women are bound by the position and circumstances they are in but they rebel and resist, they do not give up questioning and demand answers. This is a book that you will love for the way it adds a fresh perspective to the many familiar turns in the epic.
Song of Draupadi by Ira Mukhoty is a feminist retelling of one of the greatest Indian epics, The Mahabharata, a story we’ve been familiar with since the childhood and yet, many facets unexplored.
Mukhoty’s Mahabharata opens with a very young and rebellious Draupadi, who refuses to stay shielded and discriminated in learning the skills of a warrior, as her brother, both unknown what their futures hold, the specific sacrifices they’re born for.
Draupadi has been immortalised as a central character in countless narratives, be it retelling of this famous epic or inspired characters in other fictional works but why Mukhoty’s Draupadi stands out for me is how wonderfully she’s sketched into flesh; unapologetically fiery and angered, questioning and resisting what was thrown at her, driven with vengeance and refusing to take respite till her disgrace is avenged.
The narrative also shifts in chapters to stories of Amba and Ambalika, Gandhari and Kunti etc., giving voice to stories of women, their personal loss and suffering that are often drowned when we read war stories and similarly, the epic that has mostly been dominated by ‘heroic’ men, patriarchy and the battle that follows.
Mukhoty shifts the spotlight, doesn’t glorify the gods and rather holds them accountable for their human flaws and unjust actions.
Vivid, beautifully descriptive prose and impeccable characterisation, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this one, my only let down being missing some crucial scenes that may have added more depth to this perspective, but I understand the author’s choice of omission.
For someone who’s very picky about mythological fiction, I've always wondered what makes a good retelling; a change in perspective, letting go certain facades our main characters often hide behind?
The Mahabharata teems with female characters, but in most versions, the women are portrayed either passive victims or as the cause of strife. In all of them, the practice of niyoga is sanitised, with conception happening either through a meeting or eyes, or a single sexual encounter. Song of Draupadi is different. Women are depicted as human beings with a very human desire for revenge, vengeance, curiosity, anger or self survival. The limited agency that women enjoy comes through in each of the stories, as also the determination of the women to make the most of what they can control. Gandhari tying a blindfold, for instance, is normally shown as an act of supreme sacrifice. Mokhoty (like Karve), depicts it as vengeance against the system that tricked her into marrying a blind prince with only a tenuous claim to the throne. The Draupadi Vastraharan scene is particularly well depicted. There are no divine miracles, no long winding speeches. It is a woman fighting against being humiliated in public, without losing her dignity even when the length of cloth she is draped in starts slipping off. The friendship between Draupadi and Krishna is legendary. Here too, they call each other Sakha and Sakhi, but Draupadi is able to see the mechanisations by which he connives to ensure that a Yadava king is eventually put on the throne. There are many retellings of the Mahabharata, including a few others which are written from a feminist perspective. What makes Mukhoty's book different is the mode of storytelling. She paints people and places with quick brushstrokes- giving details, yet leaving scope for you to put in your own. Though a faithful retelling, Song of Draupadi is written with such lyricism, it could pass off as a novel.
The stories inscribed in mythology often invite various perspectives that elicit debates on the correctness of the actions of the characters and the viability of their stratagems. Mahabharat is one of those stories. Several perspectives and multiple theories have been perpetuated in our minds since time immemorial. One such character whose actions and spirit are constantly under scrutiny is Draupadi, the common wife of the five Pandava brothers.
When I heard Shernaz’s Patel excellent narration of Daughters of the Sun - the stories of the many Mughal women who get lost so often as their husbands, brothers and sons shine in history - I think I knew then that a re telling of the Mahabharata from Ira Mukhoty’s desk would be inevitable and a thing of much joy.
I can say with some confidence that this outing, is a spectacular one. Ms Mukhoty uses Draupadi and many other women, some fleeting, some formidable, to tell the story of the Great War of Kurukshetra that keeps my imagination alive with every outing. Her story telling voice is replete with emotion and fairly evocative imagery as she steers clear of magical / divine explanations and ponders instead on what might be more human explanations to extraordinary sounding events. At the same time the prose is rarely purple, the writing almost simplistic as the tales weaves in and out of threads the reader is bound to be familiar with - and there perhaps is the tiny little flaw - this book is unlikely to impress if it is in fact the first one a reader picks up to read about the Mahabharata.
On the plus side, of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the beautiful cover! And this one is from Aleph Book Company too (after my last outing - Murder at the Mushaira) - maybe they really do believe in first impressions being lasting after all. No complains here, my book nooks always welcome a little prettiness!
Songs of Draupadi by Ira Mukhoty is a retelling of Mahabharata.
The main story starts with the young Draupadi, who loves to roam around and play, unaware that she and her twin brother are born for sacrifices.
It is not the first retelling of Mahabharatha. What makes this one different?
This book focuses on the women fn the Mahabharata - From Satyabati to Draupadi, including Kunti, Ganga, more. Also, she unfolds sides of their bravery and strength.
This is my first time going through Ira Mukhoty's writing. I must admire her writing story- well-knitted and lyrical.
But for me, this story could have been more engaging. This is only one thing that bothered me.
This was a let-down because I love Ira Mukhoty and I expected a lot more from this feminist retelling because it seemed to have a lot of potential; however, the writing ended up being too simplistic :/
‘Song of Draupadi’ is not just a song, but more of a hymn, a chant of feminine persona. It is deep and viscous, with a multitude of humming voices, cries and smiles of all women large and small—royal, poor, pure or tainted. In all, Ira Mukhoty’s latest book is another hymn of womanhood—coupled with motherhood, maidenhood, widowhood or just girlhood.
‘Song of Draupadi’ quite contrary to what belief might say, isn’t a reiteration of the Mahabharat from Draupadi’s viewpoint. Rather, with emotions blazing like the sun and free from all bondages like a wildfire, it is a perspective to Mahabharat based on the frameworks of feminine sentiments. It is a story ruled by the women and them only—all the towering women of the grand Bharat—the princesses, queens, mothers, widows, slaves, concubines and many more. Even the other girls of the palace—the chirping flowergirls bearing blooms of fresh jasmine, or vials of rosewater, the ‘malakaars’ running around with orange braided marigolds, the perfumers grinding fresh fragrances and locking them in small glass bottles, even the able cooks—putting all kinds of flavours and delicacies on the royal platter. In such a context, this book is an exploration into the inner lives of its women, their sacrosanct secretive thoughts and their unspoken words of pain and exploits. It is also a soft murmur of hushed voices, lithe complains of the women often suffocated by what is wanted of them, and how it goes out of tune with what lies at their hearts. Probably there is also much of aggressive whispering going on, of fiery hot embers emanating from the blaze within—and its all surrounded by gallant men inheriting all the bravery, but still falling short in understanding the women in their lives.
Mukhoty’s prose, on careful thought, happens to make us imbibe the conflict between ancient masculine interests and feminine adherence, of how the women often settle down at the bottom of every violent turn of events—their sentiments and feelings weighed down by an immense amount of psychological and romantic turmoil. They collapse too, their personas cracked by the heavy stones pushed casually onto their hearts. Despite that, they never are able to diminish their anger fully—they are never allowed to muffle their inner screams into nothingness. It all remains, buried but living, below a lot of rummage and ruins, a slow fire burning. There is splendour, of course: the author’s diction is both simultaneously sharp and brittle, often gullible to suit the needs and nest fragile strands of contextual imbibition between the lines.
Ira Mukhoty’s method of upholding the story is an art. She walks atop the fine string, balancing the mythological perspective with a tale that is so perennial with ages. On one branch there’s the primary story of the Mahabharat, the gushing surge that carries the flow of the novel. The current underneath is of ancient history, massive kingdoms and grand palatial livings—coupled with complicated colourful customs and religious rituals, of throbbing humane characters swimming in tides of time. On the surface though, like the cyclic tidal waves or the torrential whirls, is the story of all women, regardless of anything that might add to any fracture in their womanhood. We can find a Draupadi or a Gandhari in the women of today, where their emotional alignment with match exactly with what was professed in the epic.
The sheen that coats ‘Song of Draupadi’ is not only of fierce feminism, but also of a unique glamorous gleam of historical significance. The story jolts forward on the anvils of mythology seemingly in disguise of history. There is less magic here, less surrealism, even scanty divinity—what lurks is reality, solid foundations of humanely happenings. Every character is humanised, even the gods stripped off their divinity and put to play as normal humans with just better strengths. Less of otherworldly metaphors, but lots of beautiful imageries and natural comparisons to enhance the story, and carry forward the novel with much fluidity. All godly encounters are skilfully skipped, supernatural elements in the story often overlooked, probably with a vision—that this isn’t a story about them.
Some well-acquainted episodes of the Mahabharat goes amiss. Stilting the tent over the massive terrain upon which the epic is built upon is outrageously difficult. It is even much challenging to incorporate a wide range of viewpoints and stances of the multitude of characters and how they cross paths. Mukhoty chooses some, especially the ones which can impact the women considerably and uses those pillars as means to support her story. I wish we could have seen more of the nurturing relationship between Krishna and Krishnaa--the eternal Sakha and Sakhi, I wish there was a more coherent germination of Shikhandi’s role in the plot—thereby tying the ends of Amba’s revenge, the genesis of which had started well. But with this limited quantity of plot-driven portions, Mukhoty does splendidly bring out Draupadi in all her glory and in all her looming presence. She explores all emotions of her—more of the unknown, private emotions and how their seeds were sown. With all of this, Draupadi emerges taking all the women with her, into a chasm of space where womanhood is better realised.
Thanks Aleph Book Company for sending me the book.
‘Song of Draupadi’ is not just a song, but more of a hymn, a chant of feminine persona. It is deep and viscous, with a multitude of humming voices, cries and smiles of all women large and small—royal, poor, pure or tainted. In all, Ira Mukhoty’s latest book is another hymn of womanhood—coupled with motherhood, maidenhood, widowhood or just girlhood.
‘Song of Draupadi’ quite contrary to what belief might say, isn’t a reiteration of the Mahabharat from Draupadi’s viewpoint. Rather, with emotions blazing like the sun and free from all bondages like a wildfire, it is a perspective to Mahabharat based on the frameworks of feminine sentiments. It is a story ruled by the women and them only—all the towering women of the grand Bharat—the princesses, queens, mothers, widows, slaves, concubines and many more. Even the other girls of the palace—the chirping flowergirls bearing blooms of fresh jasmine, or vials of rosewater, the ‘malakaars’ running around with orange braided marigolds, the perfumers grinding fresh fragrances and locking them in small glass bottles, even the able cooks—putting all kinds of flavours and delicacies on the royal platter. In such a context, this book is an exploration into the inner lives of its women, their sacrosanct secretive thoughts and their unspoken words of pain and exploits. It is also a soft murmur of hushed voices, lithe complains of the women often suffocated by what is wanted of them, and how it goes out of tune with what lies at their hearts. Probably there is also much of aggressive whispering going on, of fiery hot embers emanating from the blaze within—and its all surrounded by gallant men inheriting all the bravery, but still falling short in understanding the women in their lives.
Mukhoty’s prose, on careful thought, happens to make us imbibe the conflict between ancient masculine interests and feminine adherence, of how the women often settle down at the bottom of every violent turn of events—their sentiments and feelings weighed down by an immense amount of psychological and romantic turmoil. They collapse too, their personas cracked by the heavy stones pushed casually onto their hearts. Despite that, they never are able to diminish their anger fully—they are never allowed to muffle their inner screams into nothingness. It all remains, buried but living, below a lot of rummage and ruins, a slow fire burning. There is splendour, of course: the author’s diction is both simultaneously sharp and brittle, often gullible to suit the needs and nest fragile strands of contextual imbibition between the lines.
Ira Mukhoty’s method of upholding the story is an art. She walks atop the fine string, balancing the mythological perspective with a tale that is so perennial with ages. On one branch there’s the primary story of the Mahabharat, the gushing surge that carries the flow of the novel. The current underneath is of ancient history, massive kingdoms and grand palatial livings—coupled with complicated colourful customs and religious rituals, of throbbing humane characters swimming in tides of time. On the surface though, like the cyclic tidal waves or the torrential whirls, is the story of all women, regardless of anything that might add to any fracture in their womanhood. We can find a Draupadi or a Gandhari in the women of today, where their emotional alignment with match exactly with what was professed in the epic.
The sheen that coats ‘Song of Draupadi’ is not only of fierce feminism, but also of a unique glamorous gleam of historical significance. The story jolts forward on the anvils of mythology seemingly in disguise of history. There is less magic here, less surrealism, even scanty divinity—what lurks is reality, solid foundations of humanely happenings. Every character is humanised, even the gods stripped off their divinity and put to play as normal humans with just better strengths. Less of otherworldly metaphors, but lots of beautiful imageries and natural comparisons to enhance the story, and carry forward the novel with much fluidity. All godly encounters are skilfully skipped, supernatural elements in the story often overlooked, probably with a vision—that this isn’t a story about them.
Some well-acquainted episodes of the Mahabharat goes amiss. Stilting the tent over the massive terrain upon which the epic is built upon is outrageously difficult. It is even much challenging to incorporate a wide range of viewpoints and stances of the multitude of characters and how they cross paths. Mukhoty chooses some, especially the ones which can impact the women considerably and uses those pillars as means to support her story. I wish we could have seen more of the nurturing relationship between Krishna and Krishnaa--the eternal Sakha and Sakhi, I wish there was a more coherent germination of Shikhandi’s role in the plot—thereby tying the ends of Amba’s revenge, the genesis of which had started well. But with this limited quantity of plot-driven portions, Mukhoty does splendidly bring out Draupadi in all her glory and in all her looming presence. She explores all emotions of her—more of the unknown, private emotions and how their seeds were sown. With all of this, Draupadi emerges taking all the women with her, into a chasm of space where womanhood is better realised.
Thanks Aleph Book Company for sending me the book.
For those of us who grew up with the brilliant but sanitised BR Chopra televised version of the Mahabharata in the 80s, this feels wonderfully refreshing. Some of the mysticism is taken out and the women's stories ring true. It's a story I found I had been longing to hear - the story of the women. Highly recommend.
Book Title: Song of Draupadi Author: Ira Mukhoty Format: Kindle
Review: This is the 21st Generation, and we have Gen X and the next generation citizens reigning the world. But what remains unchanged is the ever debatable books or epics like Ramayana and Mahabharatha. Also, it is to be observed that the women characters of these epics that were once confined to only the tales and the books are now being studied in detail. There have been many books in the fiction genre emerging with this as the central topic. The female protagonists of the stories are the reflection or the mirror images of the then women characters but in a new avatar! Be it queens or princesses or warrior princesses, many of them are inspired by these two epics.
In this connection, talking about Ira Mukhoty's book - Song of Draupadi, stands apart!. Apart from the mentions of the ever talked superheroes of the epic story, the main focus on the character of Draupadi is something worth reading. Mahabharata itself is a massive treasure box of tales in it, and weaving them together with Draupadi as the central character makes the book interesting.
Ira Mukhoty is one of the celebrated writer\author for her previous works and exclusive characterisations. Though they may not please profound literature acumen, the detailed writing and sub-stories written out of fiction will surely entertain the readers who look for novelty in old stories. This trend is quite popular in today's Indian fiction writing. Many other contemporary authors took myth-fiction as the main subject and woven iconic stories that went on to create a tide for nearly a decade. There have been new women authors who focused on the women characters from the epics, and Ira joins the group of these writers who primarily focus on the women characters.
There is a lesser book that discusses or talk about the women characters who took life-changing decisions, who were strong enough to hold the significant loss that occurred to them and their families, who were brave enough to fight with the most demonic men, who were brutally virtuous to defend their integrity and many such. Though these women are merely mentioned, there are certain women characters who are never even discussed. In this book, Ira Mukhoty also focused on Drapadi's mother and her helping-aid in detail that is worth mentioning.
The book cover is an intense art of Draupadi depicting many emotions in her face. The magic of modern art in showing Draupadi will surely make the readers pick up the book. The language in the book is simple and straightforward. Though the vocabulary seems not to make a great impact or is pleasing, the grammar is fine. The narration, which is as smooth as water, also illustrates Draupadi's longing and unconditional love towards Arjuna. The ever debatable system of patriarchy is logically yet thematically described through many events\incidents.
The narrative of Mahabharatha takes a new face when the story is re-told from a woman's perspective, and this is proven here. This talks about the amount of research and study that the author has done for the book. In one of her previous interviews, author Ira Mukhoty said that when she checked on the female characters from epic books like Ramayana, she wanted to explain to her daughters and was astonished that no such study in details was present. These women from the warrior lineage are often portrayed as submissive, weak, and male-obedient characters. Taking into account then and now prejudices, situations, could-have-been-the-reason type decisions, physical and appealing descriptions, this book - Song of Draupadi is an assertive expression of Mahabharatha.
While Ira Mukhoty's prose is as graceful and seamless as ever, I expected a little more from Song of Draupadi. This is not to say that the book disappointed - most certainly not. It lives up to the premise of telling the major events of the Mahabharata through the eyes of the women who propelled the narrative, and yet were often deprived of agency, as events were often acted upon them. Mukhoty takes the diverse and richly varying stories of these women, and attempts to articulate the motivations and power they exercised, even as they refused to remain passive subjects in a patriarchal world that capriciously used and discarded the laws of Dharma to suit the wishes of men.
However, I found two shortcomings in this work, particularly when compared to the author's other remarkable book Daughters of the Sun: Empresses, Queens and Begums of the Mughal Empire. While cognisant of the fact that there is an abundance of material and historic records/sources available for the Mughal Empire, unlike the oral renditions that have kept alive the Mahabharata for most of history, I believe there were two areas where Mukhoty could have given us a bit more.
First, in terms of new interpretations and characterisations of the characters. She did this excellently in the case of Gandhari and an alternate reason for her wearing the blindfold, that wasn't a mark of her wifely devotion, but rather a rebellion against it. In fact, I found her depictions of the women in the earlier part of the Epic - Ganga, Satyavati, Amba, Gandhari - to be outstanding, in the alternate yet faithful stories spun around them. However, I did not find the stories of the women from the 'later' generations, especially Draupadi and Kunti, as new or distinctive from the usual versions. That's not necessarily a weakness, because there is no doubt that it would be a difficult task to balance accuracy to the popular myths with feminist retellings; but if anyone could have done it, I believe it is Mukhoty.
Secondly, I would have liked to get the perspectives of women relegated to the fringes of the Mahabharata. Apart from the cursory mentions they get, stories of Chitrangada, Ulupi, Urvashi and many others would have been fascinating additions that, I think, would have elevated this book. I would also have liked a chapter from Subhadra's perspective, especially on the incident of her abduction-wedding.
These caveats notwithstanding, the author has done a wonderful job bringing to life and to centre-stage, the women who shaped the Mahabharata. I believe she deserves a special mention for the way some of the famous mythical elements of the popular versions - Ganga's marriage with Shantanu, Amba's reincarnation as Shikhandi, Gandhari having a hundred sons, Draupadi's birth from the yagna, Krishna's aid during her disrobing and so on- have been presented as more pragmatic and realistic, without diminishing their significance in the course of events, or taking away the dramatic quality that was essential to the Epic.
Tales of Pandavas and Krishna are not very new to me. I grew up listening to different version of their stories. Each time when I hear/read it, I'm exposed to new truths. Every. Time. Mahabharata fascinates me And maybe that's why I go back to it like a moth drawn to a flame. I feel there's so much to uncover from it. And I could write pages and pages about Krishna. But that's not this is for.
This book is for the women of Mahabharata whose stories were muddled, redrawn and molded to storyteller's whim. When there is magic, weapons, sorcery and "powerful" characters such as Pandavas, Kauravas, mighty Bheeshma, reverend Drona and of course the mastermind Krishna who are known (only) for the noble things and "dharma" they followed till their death. Who would be interested to hear about Kunti a boring mother of Pandavas? They are just women.
While we were busy singing the praises of these men, we started forgetting about the women behind those men who were the real masterminds behind shaping this epic. This great epic is filled numerous women. Each brave, strong, intelligent, cunning, real and beautiful in their own way. They directed these men folk, bent them to their will, forged wars and stood unyielding in achieving what they wanted. Yes, they sacrificed a lot but in the end they got what they wanted.
And Ira Mukhoty has done a magnificent work in bringing that to the world. Kunti's wit and survival skills, Gandhari's stubbornness to live life to her will, Satyavati's desire for a better life, Ganga's free will and importantly Draupadi's iron steel will. These woman stood the test of times with their heads high and rose above everything. Throughout my journey with Mahabharata, I've always wondered about Bhanumati, Duryodhana's wife. She was always a shadow, a mere name present. But Mukhoty has given life to her and has sated my curiosity. These women are unhinged and I don't know why we forgot to recommend their stories under that genre. I could rave on and on about this book. While these people remained like celestial dreams, Mukhoty converted them into flesh and bone giving them depth, shades, character, made them real and showed who they truly are.
I was in the verge of throwing book and do something (even though I know I can't) to stop Bhanumathi and the women. I was enraged, appalled and wanted to shout. And when a book makes you experience that kind of visceral reaction, that's when you should know, you've been mesmerized and wrapped on it's spine. I love books that make me experiences that and I'm forever grateful to Ira Mukhoty for giving me, the readers this unabashedly beautiful song of a book.
Speculated to have been written around 2000 years ago, how is Mahabharata still relevant in the contemporary world? Well, that is the beauty of mythology. It is timeless, as it disseminates a life's experience through a story. Overtime, different authors, researchers, and mythology enthusiasts have given a multitude of interpretations of the great epic. "Song of Draupadi" by @iramukhoty is one such rendition of the Mahabharata. It is a feminist retelling of the great war and the events that galvanized it. However, infact as the title suggests, it isn't just a tale of Draupadi's agony, but the narrative keeps on shifting to all the other female characters of the story as well, ranging from Ganga to Satyavati to Kunti and the others. These are the voices of the women who have been silenced for long, subdued by their counteractive male fury. We get to witness the individual episodes of unheard heroines like Ambika and Ambalika, the desolation of Ganga, the nasty incident that transformed Satyavati from the frolicsome fishergirl to the unfaltering matriarch of the Kurus and many other obscure events. Another striking feature of the novel is the author's attempt at humanizing the magical aspects of the story by stripping away the godlike qualities of the characters and transfering the onus of blame from one to several individuals. Although the hallowed character of Krishna retains its godly traits, but the episode of divine intervention in Draupadi's disrobing has been discarded. It delivers a fresh perspective to the old tale by focusing on the virtues and vices of each and every character rather than just portraying Kurus as the perpetual villains. It provides reasons to their actions; reasons to why Bheeshma chose to take a vow of celibacy despite being the rightful heir to the Hastinapur throne, and why Shakuni plotted against the Pandavas to avenge his sister.
The novel is fast paced and sufficing. I relished in the riveting narration of the author; her style is both unique and exciting. My immediate appetite for the tale has been satiated.🌻
For more book reviews, find me on instagram- @the.magicofwords
This book is the story, not just of Draupadi, but of many women from the Mahabharata. Ira Mukhoty, in this novel, seeks to give the often sidelined women of this ancient Indian epic poem a voice, and show how, despite living in an intensely patriarchal society, these women managed to take charge of their fates and destinies.
💦Ganga, a beautiful ethereal woman refuses to be bound by the rules of the palace, preferring the freedom of the river.
🐟Satyavati, a poor fisherman’s daughter makes a clever deal with the Raja, Parashar, to ensure her and her sons’ future.
👁Gandhari is deceived and given in marriage to a first-born Prince of a powerful Kingdom. He is not destined to become the Raja of his kingdom due to his blindness. Gandhari performs a sacrifice in honour of her husband, becomes a powerful matriarch of an army of 98 sons and determines that they will inherit the throne despite all the odds.
🏹Kunti is given away by her mother as a young girl and sent to a household where she is enslaved and abused. Kunti is delighted to be sent to marry Pandu, the Prince set to become Raja of Hastinapur. She becomes the mother of the 5 Pandavas, and, after Pandu’s death becomes determined to claim the throne of Hastinapur for them.
🔥Draupadi, is a beautiful Princess, born, with her twin brother, from a black magic fire ritual. She asks her brother to arrange a task for her swayamvar which only the most talented archer will be able to accomplish. Arjun, one of the Pandavas, succeeds and wins Draupadi’s hand. Kunti declares all brothers must share Draupadi as a wife. After suffering a great humiliation by Gandhari’s sons, Draupadi also spurs on her husbands to avenge her honour and claim their throne.
This was a wonderful introduction to the work of the Mahabharata and a poetic, feminist novel in which women take the leading roles.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗣𝗔𝗗𝗜 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙 by @iramukhoty, published by @alephbookco
This book is unlike any other fiction book written about Mahabharata. Reading Ira"s writing is a thing of joy for me. ( I've also felt the same while reading Akbar ) I have gone through the essence of emotions including trauma, humiliation and hostility portrayed by the author in this book.
Also, let me be very clear that Song Of Draupadi is not just a story of Draupadi, but the reflection of the grand feminine persona of the entire Mahabharata - but Draupadi is presented as a paragon of gender and resistance in the wake of the injustices meted out on her. Her ability to overcome hardship in a venerable manner sets her apart from other women of the epic.
There's a lot of retellings on Mahabharata available out there but the portrayal of characters in this one is more lively and fascinating.
It is a beautiful manifestation of many facets of life while simultaneously reflecting various relationships and the importance of women in society. Women played an essential role during the Mahabharata. Many of these exceptional women appear in Song of Draupadi—the indomitable Satyavati, the otherworldly Ganga, the indestructible Kunti, and the tenacious Gandhari. Gandhari's character touched upon my conscience, intense and fealty.
A very engaging perspective on Draupadi. The author also explained a fraction of the process of her writing and research in the author's note. She researched to a great extent to bring detail into the narrative. Though this is a work of fiction, beautifully executed. When you dive deep into the book, you will get entangled, with absolutely no escape.
“They all say I’ve led to the grandest of chaos, They all acknowledge the “great” men of my time. But not a single soul is aware of my own cosmos, As I persevered through some of the most horrendous of crimes!”
Feminism is overrated. I have always believed in equality instead. But Draupadi’s story makes me realise how the seeds of feminism actually got laid in the history of our world! I’ve always believed mythology is more of a historical depiction than a study of gods. And Draupadi’s story has been a flag bearer of subtle patriarchy throughout evolution.
Before I picked up this book, I had read and become fond of The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Bannerjee Divakurni so much, that I could never think another book based on Draupadi’s life could manage to come close to it. Where this book, however, stood out was that, it managed to present a picture of not just the lead, but also of every other female that she was surrounded with! With impeccable character description, lack of deep character development could easily be looked upon, as the author has managed to make the reader understand the perspective of almost every woman who was a part of Mahabharata.
Interrupting the flow of the review, I’d like to give special credits to the cover illustration of this book which manages to sweep me off each time I look at it and is thoroughly representative of the valour and passion in Draupadi and her world!
From the deceitful marriage of Gandhari, to the vagabond life Kunti had to go through, to the ordeals and insult Draupadi faced; this book not only manages to make its place in the heart of ladies, but is also an eye opener for all the men who believe “Devi” is but the biggest way to pay respect to the gender! Even though, the equality in me, was irked by bits of adamant feminism in this one; I couldn’t help but forgive @iramukhoty as she strode through it; as I felt the rage she wrote her excerpts with.
It's very rare for an author to balance rage and compassion, but I'd say she's managed to do that pretty well; and has portrayed every woman in this book like an aura in herself; an aura that tells you why a woman is presumed qullible for her sensitivity, but is actually the strongest being in identity! This is a must read for every woman, who's ever been troubled by patriarchy. But more importantly, for every man who's been brought up as a silent witness to it!
"I have been here before, I am the earth Here before, Forever"
Ira Mukhoty captures every reader's attention with her new book, Song of Draupadi which was the very first manuscript she wrote but came around to publish it as her 4th novel!
Having heard so much appreciation about the author's earlier works, I dived into this one with a lot of expectations and it doesn't come as a shock to see what an excellent and distinct literary voice she possesses! Mukhoty in this one brings out the story of The renowned Mahabharat from a perspective that brings to light those women whose voices have ignored and faded into oblivion. She takes a fantastical leap into the complex tale of the great mythology and moulds a lyrical saga that brings down the traditional patriarchal narratives.
Song of Draupadi is a book filled with repressed anger, vengeance, loss and reason! Ira humanizes the Gods and pens down a compelling poetic read. In the world of Mahabharat, where women were nothing more than the pawns of men and their decisions, the author brings out the ballads of the forgotten voices of Draupadi, Kunti, Gandhari, Ganga and Satyavati with a satiating narration! The only thing I wished more from this book was for it to be a bit more engaging and ferocious!
Profound and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Mahabharata is a dazzling feather in the author's cap. I am thankful to the author that she decided to bring to life this side of the elusive story of Mahabharata.
There are books which are meant to be read and remembered time and again, like good friends; and then there are books that are meant to be read and cherished, books which have you arguing with your professor who has studied and taught the very same subject for over a decade because you forgot that you read a fictional novel and the characters were written and developed so beautifully that now they have power over your soul. I did know that mythology is sad– men get away with things which women are punished severely for, be it Surpanakha, be it Ahalya, or be it Sita. Mukhoty gives women the spotlight, they narrate their stories without needing a man's name.
Mahabharata is oft quoted to be the Dharma Yuddha, but amidst the mortal combat of men we forget that it is based on the decisions of women, and ultimately it was the story of Draupadi's revenge. Ira Mukhoty lends her voice to the women of Mahabharata– to Ganga, to Satyavati, to Amba, to Gandhari and to Kunti other than Draupadi. The prose, with ample imagery, seems almost lyrical at some points. I wish people all over the world had a brief context to the Mahabharata, they could then enjoy reading Song of Draupadi for what it truly is, a masterpiece. This is the closest interpretation of Draupadi I have ever read, it brings to light her flawed, addled, stunning, and remarkably life-like self.
So much carnage for ego. This is happening right now in Ukraine as well. A war based on one man’s ego but I digress. The author tells us the story of Draupadi and I feel towards the end, she rushed through it and was in a hurry to end the story. Having said that, we tend to glorify the Pandavs and demean the kauravs. One cannot help but feel that Yudhishthir was the villain in all of this. He loses his game of dice and then gambles away his brothers and then his wife or the wife of his brothers. Who ever gave him the right to treat anyone and more so a woman, his wife no less, with such disregard and shame. So what ensued was a bloodbath to avenge Draupadi’s treatment by Dushasan. But who really is the culprit here. The person who dragged her by her hair into court to be disrobed or the person who gambled his wife away! This is not a reflection on the author’s story telling but on the two epics themselves. It bothers me, the scant disregard these people had for their wives. They worship their mothers but their wives or mothers of their children, not so much. Both epics show the same disregard. One banishes his wife to the forest because a dhobi questioned her virtue and the other gambles her away. My two cents.
There are so many retellings of the great epics of Ramayana and Mahabharata these days. Most of them are women-centric. They explore the stories from new angles and perspectives. The angelic halo around the heads of male characters is disrupted by shedding light on their flaws and mistakes, most of which were born out of either lust or insatiable greed for power.
This particular retelling of the Mahabharata, talks about the forgotten women of the great epic, with Draupadi at the centre. It is the story of the fisherman's daughter Satyavati, the heavenly Ganga, the Varanasi princesses Amba, Ambika and Ambalika, the courageous Kunti and the determined Gandhari. All these women were let down and controlled by the men in their lives by one way or another.
There's a lot of research that went behind this book. The prose grips the imagination of the reader right from page one. It is evocative and riveting. The story is the same but the characters are more realistic and quite relatable. A must-read through and through!
An obvious comparison title for this book might be Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni's 'Palace of Illusions,' - also a Mahabharata retelling focusing on Draupadi - but while both are irresistibly beautiful, Ira Mukhoty's take is far more subversive.
She does not shy away from framing in full glory even the worst traits of many beloved characters from the epic. The women here are not simply strong yet virtuous; they come from marginalised backgrounds, they struggle with their weight, they suffer mood swings and period shaming, they curse wildly, they taunt their husbands, and they learn to see the worst in the ones they love the most. The divine interventions and miracles from the canon are largely missing here, which was a bold choice. 'Song of Draupadi' also favours the character study-style of storytelling that Ms. Mukhoty goes on to use in her non-fiction text 'Daughters of the Sun,' about the women of the Mughal empire.
While 'Palace of Illusions' wins for its smooth pacing and flow, 'Song of Draupadi' conquers the reader with its irreverence.