The dice was cast.
Duryodhana commanded, “Go and get that maid”.
She was dragged forcibly by vile hands and watched by men in power with helpless eyes.
As Duryodhana lunged forward indicating her to sit on his lap, Karna got up, standing in
the way of his best friend and the lady “Stop Duryodhana”
“You are my mate, Karna”, blood-shot eyes thundered.
“My shoulders weigh down by your debts, Duryodhana. A lady’s honour is above
friendship. I will not allow you to cross the threshold of immorality and indecency as a
“I second Karna”, echoes Bhishma’s baritone.
“Me too”, choruses the court of Hastinapur.
A pair of feminine palms clap in the audience of the Experimental Theatre, Mumbai.
All feet arise to a standing ovation. The Director’s chest swells with success.
“What would be your reaction, Modern Draupadi, hadn’t you got unexpected support?” a
Panchali whips out a can of pepper spray and hitches her sari high to demonstrate her
The curtain falls with pride.
Written for : Friday Foto Fiction -The Mask-Sep 8-13. Thanks Tina and Mayuri.
Word count : 171.
I tried to stick to the prescribed word count of 150 but was forced to exceed it.