Panchali's Pride

By Srividhya Srinivasan

Did she feel proud?

When in epochs past, under time's unyielding gaze,

When she stood, a flame 'midst swirling haze.

Through cycles turned, her suffering profound,

A mosaic of torment, tightly wound.

Did she feel angry?

When in a warfield, where fates entwined,

Her sorrow echoed, through the ages, bind.

A queen, yet pawn in destiny's cruel game,

Her dignity aflame, a flickering flame.

Did she feel betrayed?

When the dice, a harbinger of twisted fate,

Unraveled threads of love and kinship's weight.

Five husbands strong, yet powerless to shield,

Her honor seized, in destiny revealed.

Did she feel shamed?

When in courtly halls where power took its toll,

Each layer of her being paid the toll.

A polyphony of grief, a silent plea,

Her suffering resounds through history.

Did she feel lost?

When Time witnessed her anguished, silent cries,

As echoes through the ages, sorrow lies.

A heroine obscured, by fate's cruel hand,

Yet in her pain, a timeless truth withstands.

Did she feel strong?

When the masses turned their heads, her story weaves a thread,

Of strength in suffering, where tears are shed.

Her tale, a prism of despair,

Yet through the ages, resilience declared.

Did she ever feel safe?

When in every age, her suffering retold,

A silent witness as the tales unfold.

Through time's embrace, her essence remains,

Her agony, an ageless refrain.

By Srividhya Srinivasan