Excerpt from ‘The Thirteenth Day’

I found Shikhandi in her tent.

'Sorry ma'am, I came to find the slayer of The Terrible One. Heard she was hiding in her own tent, afraid of her troops?'

She didn't look at me when she replied, 'It wasn't me, you know. Your father helped a little.'

I flopped on her bed and played around with some strewn trinkets. She was like an elder sister to me. I could count on her for anything. I was happy that she had killed Grandsire, well, almost killed him. He was still alive somewhere making his peace with his end.

The old man hadn't fought her after all. Just like Krishna had said. And looking at her in the tent, I only wondered why.

She was Drupada's eldest, and he had raised her like a son. 'It's no secret that women have always been tougher than men and my daughter will be the better of any bastard on a battlefield. These loins bring forth only the seed of warriors'. The speech was common knowledge now.

Her shoulders were round and manly, her chest nearly flat. So was her torso. She'd learned to wear her hair short and stand erect. To talk with a deep voice and listen without sympathy. Before the battle, her family had sworn to kill Grandsire Bhishma believing that as the head of the Kurus, he was responsible for all the humiliation caused to her sister Draupadi. No one dared question her presence on the battlefield for she was formidable in her own right. And Drupada's two-akshauhini-strong commitment to our cause left little room for argument.

'You both killed him. You know that.'

Again, she replied absent-mindedly, 'We all have our parts to play.'

'So, what now?'

'The war's not over, you know. There's a whole army on the other side.'

'True. All the others are alive too..Drona, Bhagadatta, Duryodhana.'

'Duryodhana?'

'That's what the bards are calling him these days. Clever, no? And Sushasana has become Dushasana. It seems their names are going to be ruined for posterity.'

'I don't think it'll mean anything to them.'

'I had thought you'd be happy for a change, Shikhandi. You're going to be remembered for this forever, you know. Up there with Parashurama, Drona and Father.'

'Forever huh? I have no use for it. It's a lie we keep telling ourselves to divert our attention from the pointlessness of our sad little lives.'

'Relax, Shikhandi, what's wrong?'

'Nothing…nothing, okay. Just leave. I'll see you later.'

I left Shikhandi to her sulking and went back to my tent.

(See interview: Recasting the Mahbharat as a 'historical' fact than a myth)