Subhadra’s arrival to Khandava was an unquiet one. Arjuna, bedraggled and miserable, had left her to trail after his incandescent wife, and her new mother-in-law now raked a hard gaze all across her ruined wedding robes down to her muddy hems. She wanted to tell her to censure her own son, but the night was young, and she was to stay here all her life, and it did not bode well for newlywed women to quarrel with the matriarch of their husband’s house.
“Come in, sister,” said Sahadeva, emerging from the darkness. He alone of all the brothers was calm, and he alone seemed to have foreseen such circumstances. “Has anyone come with you?”
Subhadra’s throat threatened to close up once more. Her parents had spent weeks and months preparing her retinue, finding for her the cleverest young girls, the kindest hand-maidens, and the wisest of midwives just in case. Sister Jambavati had brought for her two women from her own father’s home, who she reassured everyone would guard Subhadra with their lives. They were none of them with her now. Surely, they would come later, but in the meantime she was all alone, in a strange home, surrounded by strangers, waiting for strange customs to master her. She should have answered her brother-in-law, but she had taken too long, and the moment was past.
“No matter,” said Sahadeva, smiling kindly at her. “I will send for a maid; she is newly-appointed and would suit. Mother, shall we not invite her in? It is already so late.”
Kunti – no, Mother – stirred. Her upset did not disappear, but her frown softened. “Someone should have stopped them. Dushala is not here, but this household does not lack women. It is auspicious to interrogate a man who brings in a bride. And she should kick over a pot, walk into milk and vermillion – a marriage does not lack rituals.”
“Arjuna is already gone,” Bheema pointed out.
Mother Kunti sighed. “That boy! Very well then, come in, come in. We shall see about this tomorrow. Yudhisthira, send for the esteemed priest Dhaumya in the morning. This will have to be dealt with. Come, daughter, I will show you your rooms.”
Subhadra did not hear what the Emperor said. Mother Kunti had already turned and started walking, and she hastened after to follow in her bulky robes, half afraid of losing her way. Her eyes burned. The palace of Khandava opened up around her, dark and foreboding, larger and colder than her own home by the sunlit sea, unwelcoming of the intruder. The verdant forest, so sweet scented in the morning, now loomed over the horizon, hungry and animalistic.
Mother Kunti stopped beside a wide hallway and spun so suddenly that Subhadra, half running to keep up, nearly crashed into her. She said nothing, but her lips thinned, and again, Subhadra had to swallow back the lump in her throat. Their shadows danced on the walls; the chandelier above tinkled in the breeze.
“Have you had your wedding night?” Kunti asked her.
Baffled, Subhadra blinked at her. “What?”
Mother Kunti regarded her closely. Subhadra waited for shame or shyness to overcome her, but none came. “I said: have you had your wedding night?”
“We weren’t– the wedding hasn’t been completed yet. He spoke to my elders and straightaway brought us here.” Subhadra paused, then belatedly tacked on, “Mother.”
Mother Kunti frowned. Again, Subhadra waited for the sight of it to disturb her, for her heart to quail in her chest. Nothing happened. Her mother-in-law looked unhappily to the side, then seemingly came to a decision.
“I will speak to Arjuna,” she declared. “Meanwhile, the rooms in the east wing are still unoccupied. They will do well with a mistress.”
Why the east wing? Subhadra wanted to ask. Why not the inner women’s chambers? How far will I be from the others? Shall I have anyone nearby to call in my need?
But Subhadra was naturally shy – a quality valued in maidens, and one that seemed an insurmountable horror to her now. She had no recourse but to do as Mother Kunti instructed, following behind her like an abandoned duckling, deep into her new world.
The rooms she was installed into were large and luxurious, well-appointed and faultlessly furnished. Gold gleamed off the ornamental showpieces, each too expensive to have kept in unused rooms back at home. There was a painting in the wall of a broad river, done in a style similar to that of the Naga tribe. Even the candles in the chandelier reeked of incense and sandalwood. Once she was left alone, Subhadra sank into the soft bed and gave herself a moment to think. The silken sheets protested the silk of her dress, trying to make her slip. It took effort to gather her thoughts. She had heard, of course, of her aunt who married the Kuru Emperor, even if she had no memory of meeting her. She had heard too, of her five illustrious sons, and of their fire-born wife.
Yes, Draupadi. How much of a problem would she be? Sahadeva had offered her a newly hired maid; Kunti had put her away from the inner chambers where Draupadi must live. Why?
It was not unheard of for kings and princes to take more than one wife – indeed, it was so common that Subhadra felt at times perhaps Rama and his brothers in the Treta Yuga were the last ones to do so otherwise – and it was not unheard of for wives to be jealous of each other, to vie for the attentions of king and crown for their kingdoms and themselves. Subhadra wished she could tell her co-wife that there was no need for such caution; Subhadra did not know who she would have chosen, but it would not have been Arjuna.
Her mother and her aunt, both married off without a Swayamvara, had pressed her father with great insistence to arrange one for her. It was customary to honour the bride’s choice; it was practical, however, to choose beforehand, for kings needed allies and newlyweds the knowledge of their marital home. Subhadra’s elders had guided her expansively, had sent spies ahead to listen and learn, and told her after, to choose the “second prince on her right”.
Who had it been? Arjuna’s penance was well-known, he would hardly have been invited. She had not been curious before, having chosen a handful from the portraits of her suitors, and anticipating the pleasant surprise of knowing the one she would hold dearest to her heart and announcing it before the whole world. Now though, she wondered about that faceless groom who would never be, before she caught herself thinking of another man so soon after her marriage, and willed her mind to more pressing matters.
Such as her present situation.
Sahadeva had assigned her a newly hired maid, Kunti had relegated her to the guesthouses. Was it to guard against the angry Draupadi, who might have all the womenfolk under her obedient command, or was it out of distrust for a foreign woman? Surely, surely, they did not think that–
A single knock sounded on the door. Well, the maid had certainly taken her sweet time.
“Come in,” Subhadra called, gathering her things in hopes of undressing finally.
“I– ” began a voice that distinctly did not belong to a maid, and then, “Aaaahhhh!!!!”
Subhadra turned to see Arjuna at the threshold.
“You are alone!” her husband-to-be nigh wailed. “Mother will kill me!”
Subhadra did not quite understand the problem. Had they not been alone in each other’s company all this while? On the road too, and often away from civilization. She had been scared only initially, before it turned out that her husband was less a man and more an excitable child, and before Arjuna revealed himself to be a rakishly wicked thing.
“I do not mind,” she informed him simply. “Is there something you need?”
“Panchali is angry,” said Arjuna.
Well, Subhadra thought wryly, if I was your wife and you left me because you saw me compromised, and then came home with a new bride, I would too.
It probably did not help that Draupadi’s marriage had significantly uplifted her husbands’ position, materially and politically. To reward such contribution by wedding another so soon was the kind of intolerable snub matched only by insulting a woman’s natal home.
She spoke none of that, of course. One did not encourage competition in a royal household, and one did not endear a co-wife to one’s husband; especially when aforementioned co-wife showed signs of hostility. She waited quietly and demurely for her husband’s judgement.
Arjuna’s eyes skittered away from her own. “Do you think, maybe, you can talk to her?” he mumbled under his nose, as if that would stop the words from being heard. “Maybe not dressed so lavishly… we don’t want her to feel threatened.”
Shouldn’t you have thought of that before, Subhadra wondered bitterly. She had no great talent for politics, and never in her life had she asked for more than a loving husband and enough children to fill the halls of her quarters. And yet, as Arjuna spoke, a stubborn, headstrong part of her rose in rebellion; why should Draupadi not feel threatened?
Subhadra willed herself to be calm; anger was, after all, temporary madness. Even so, she misliked Arjuna’s ideas, and liked her situation even less. She could not claim familiarity, but a handful of days on the road had made her believe that Arjuna would not shy away from a challenge. Now, her husband-to- be was as unfamiliar to her as the dark underside of a leaf was to the morning sun. How could a man, who had dared to steal her from the heart of her kingdom, not be able to stand up against his own wife? Or was that bravery all from Krishna’s encouragement; Krishna, who had helped plan her swayamvara, who had laughed at her naïve, maidenly excitement, who had known the happiness of their friends and family and still chosen a man seeking penance to–
Stop. Subhadra shuddered. She could not doubt her own brother. If he had decided this, then it was for her own good. Soon, she would know the joy of belonging to a family as vast as her own; soon, she would have children to adore and love; soon, she would meld among the Pandavas as if she always belonged and would remain for eternity; and to do that, she would have to win over Draupadi.
“I will do it.”
Arjuna smiled. “Thank you, Bhadre. I will take my leave now. Good night.”
Was that all? She watched him leave with something dangerously close to disappointment. Was it mean minded on her part to enjoy that her groom-to-be had called her by her name, and her co-wife by the kingdom she came from and would never go back to? Forcing herself to turn to bed, cold and alone and still in her most inconvenient attire, without even a moth for company in that dull, dreadful night, Subhadra could not bring herself to care.
In the morning, the sun shone brightly on her face, and her maid finally came knocking around, holding a washbasin and new clothes. She was a reserved young creature, barely out of girlhood, with narrow eyes and a small, mean mouth; where she brushed Subhadra’s dense black hair, her hands were soft and gentle. To the cautiously prying questions of her mistress, she noted anew that she was recently appointed, that all she knew of Draupadi was by word of mouth alone, that the Empress was involved in court, and beloved and scorned in equal measure.
“Why scorned?”
“They do not like her marriage,” said the maid, and carefully wrapped a necklace around her throat. “All done, my lady.”
Subhadra nodded. “Thank you. I think I shall speak to the Empress now.”
Halfway across the palace (which seemed significantly less intimidating by daylight), they were accosted by a well-dressed man with salt-pepper hair and a look on his face that suggested mortal peril. He was clutching a lump of dull cloth to his chest, and quaking in his boots.
“Your Highness,” he squeaked, and promptly fell silent.
Subhadra sighed, her good mood soured. “Give them here,” she ordered, and snatching them out of the poor man’s arms, strutted imperiously to the nearest empty room.
Her new maid followed expressionlessly. By noon, Subhadra was certain, this would be the gossip of town.
.
.
.
“Was this his idea?” Draupadi asked without preamble as she let Subhadra into her quarters. Then she peered at her maid and asked with something not quite surprise, “Oh. Who’s this?”
Subhadra answered evasively. “I was sent someone to help with my clothes.”
“Hmm. She’s new. I usually know everyone around here. Well, no matter. Sit, sit!”
They sat. Her maid slipped away to help another girl get refreshments. Subhadra studied the woman in front of her.
Draupadi was as dark as the goddess Kali, and as beautiful as a night with no moon. Her hair, like Krishna’s, was so black it was almost blue, and her eyes, large and shapely, tapered at the ends like lotus petals. A soft, intoxicating scent came off of her, as unfamiliar as foreign perfume, the kind of aphrodisiac that could drive a strong man mad. She had about her an air of quiet confidence, rare even among high-born women, of someone who was knowledgeable and wise, and knew it.
Subhadra was at once aware that it would be fruitless to argue with this half-divine creature. One did not argue with fire or its children, no matter that the child had been born fully-formed, yet not seeing half as many years on earth as Subhadra herself.
“Didi,” she said humbly (no need to argue about ages here), “this was indeed the idea of our husband, but I agree with it. You are my elder and better. I have come to adore Mother Kunti’s youngest son, and I hope to remain among him and his as long as you will have me. Last night, I heard of you, and yet I did not dare be so audacious as to demand an audience so soon. Forgive me this once, please.”
There, Subhadra congratulated herself. Nice and simple – an apology for not worshipping the principal wife, foremost deity of the house; an acknowledgement of Draupadi being above her in station; and an open declaration of her wish to have a new family.
Then Draupadi said, “Of course you agree with him; you would agree with everything he said, wouldn’t you?”
Subhadra stared, stumped. These petty arguments could not be the words of a great scholar! With great difficulty, she got out, “Of course not. I hope to be fair and righteous. In that, I follow my husband and my lord, and hope I can steer him well should he falter.”
“Oh, ‘steer him well?’ Steer him from what?”
Dear heavens! Subhadra was not built for such things! She held her tongue as long as it took the maid to place tall glasses of juice between them, and then blurted out, “Didi! I don’t know what it is I said – perhaps I have offended or overstepped – but please believe me when I say I desire nothing from the halls of power. I do not wish you harm, and I never would. He brought me here!”
“He did, didn’t he?”
Draupadi turned away. Subhadra studied the downward curves of her lips, the bitter unhappiness in those beautiful eyes. This was not a queen fighting to keep her throne among many competitors; this was just a heartbroken young woman, newer to the world than even she was.
Compassion welled in her heart, and before she could think better of it, she had leaned forward and grasped Draupadi’s hand in both of hers. For a daughter of the fire, her skin was soft and pleasantly cool. Subhadra squeezed it, and the gentleness seemed to travel from her hand all the way to her face, which too softened, and turned almost melancholic.
“Have you your wedding clothes?” Draupadi asked.
“I was wearing them before,” Subhadra admitted sheepishly.
Draupadi stood up. “I will help,” she said, and Subhadra knew.
.
.
.
Afterwards, when the festivities were over, and Arjuna was being teased by his brothers, Subhadra sat quietly among the women of the house and pondered Draupadi’s fate. Naturally, Subhadra did not have the contentious fate of having five husbands – such a situation was sure to breed occasional distress in conjugal life – and yet, what did Subhadra have, that Draupadi did not?
She knew herself to be beautiful and shy, soft-spoken and mild-mannered, but outside of their morning interaction, so too was Draupadi, and several times better than her. Subhadra knew her letters and had read many books, but something suggested that Draupadi was more rigorously trained. Even Kunti seemed fond of Draupadi – now they came to her together, and sat by her side.
“They have spotted the Yadavas from the watchtowers,” Kunti informed her, patting her head as Subhadra greeted her mother-in-law. “How are you settling in?”
“Very well, Mother,” she assured, even though there had been no word of changing her quarters to live in her husband’s household or among the women. A sensible woman did not question the husband’s mother on their marriage day.
“She should stay with us,” Draupadi insisted. “Mother, you cannot send her so far away.”
Why? So you can spy on me?
But no, Draupadi appeared genuinely eager. Mother Kunti gave them warm, maternal smiles, and went off to make arrangements, waving away Draupadi’s insistent offers of help.
After she was gone, Draupadi leaned forward to take Subhadra’s hand in her own, a mirror of their morning. Perhaps some of her apprehension showed on her face, for the Empress smiled and blessed her. “May you be the mother of heroes. May you be the foremother of kings.”
A foremother of a king was not usually the direct mother; such a blessing might have been taken differently. But it was evident Draupadi did not mean it so, and Subhadra refused to hold it against her.
In the distance, Arjuna caught her eye, laughing, and slowly she found she had forgotten her earlier upset at the man. Subhadra was in a stranger’s home, a stranger so handsome it would have been a delight to meet him in any other part of the world. So what if one day Arjuna wedded another girl? Subhadra was content with what she had now, and it was enough.
𝇋💛🌻𝇌𓈒 ݁⋆ we never found will never ࿔. ⋆ ｡ ˚ ㅤ˖ㅤㅤ ֗ ㅤ ࣭ㅤ ⊹
֗ ㅤ ࣭ ⊹ ۪ ݂ ໋ ゜* 𓈒 see a love as pure as it 𝇋💛🌻𝇌 𓈒 ݁⋆ ݂ ໋
♡༉‧ ₊˚ .When the invisible, eternal and powerful Lord Hari of subtle soul, who encompasses the well-being of the world, was born, he overpowered all the worlds with his looks. The celestial bugles began to produce sound without being struck and the king of gods showered flowers from the etherial region. The great saints, accompanied by the Gandharvas and Apsaras, chanted the glories of the slayer of Madhu in auspicious hymns. When Hrishikesha was born the whole universe was in an ecstacy of joy.࿐࿔.⋆｡˚
Or reblog oomfies. I have been a little IA as my uni has started and it's so crazy lmao. But make the comment and reblog section look like Kanha's search history!!!!!🙂↔️
How Your Brain Learns an Assumption (and Why Repetition Works)
When most people start practicing the Law of Assumption, they focus on affirmations, scripting, or visualization. They repeat phrases over and over, wonder if it’s “working,” and sometimes give up when nothing seems to happen. The truth is, your brain is not ignoring you it’s simply waiting for you to change its underlying neural architecture.
At the core of manifestation is neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to reorganize itself by forming new neural connections. Every thought, feeling, and assumption you hold strengthens certain pathways while leaving others weaker. Your brain is constantly predicting reality based on these pathways, and assumptions act like default programs. If your subconscious assumes “I am unlucky,” “I always fail,” or “they will never love me,” your brain will selectively notice evidence that confirms this.
Repetition matters because it creates synaptic strengthening. Each time you mentally affirm or imagine a scenario, you fire the same neurons in the same sequence. Over time, these pathways become more myelinated, covered in the fatty insulation that speeds electrical impulses. The more a thought fires consistently, the faster and more automatic your brain recognizes it as “normal.” In short, repetition doesn’t just remind your mind of what you want; it teaches it to expect it.
Another key process at work is Hebbian learning, often summarized as “neurons that fire together, wire together.” This principle explains why repeated visualization or affirming reinforces the assumption at a subconscious level. Your brain begins to treat your imagined reality as a familiar scenario, creating what neuroscientists call predictive coding. Essentially, your brain starts predicting that your assumption is reality and begins filtering external events to align with that expectation.
Interestingly, the reticular activating system (RAS) plays a role here. This tiny network in the brainstem acts like a filter, focusing your attention on what matters most to your survival and well-being. When you repeatedly assume a positive outcome, your RAS starts prioritizing information consistent with that assumption. That’s why you suddenly notice opportunities, synchronicities, or confirmations you hadn’t seen before, they were always there, but your brain wasn’t tuned in to notice them.
However, repetition alone is not enough. Your brain also responds to emotional congruence. If your affirmations or visualizations are repeatedly paired with fear, doubt, or conflicting beliefs, the new neural pathways will compete with old ones, slowing down the process. That’s why subtle techniques like State Akin to Sleep (SATS), mental diet, or identity anchoring work they create neural conditions where your new assumptions can take root without interference.
Practical steps to help your brain learn assumptions faster:
Single core assumption: Focus on one clear assumption at a time, e.g., “I am deeply loved.” Simplicity prevents neural interference.
Short, consistent repetition: Affirm or visualize 2–5 minutes multiple times a day instead of marathon sessions. Your brain learns better in small, consistent bursts.
Neutral emotional pairing: Avoid trying to force excitement or desperation. Calm repetition strengthens pathways more effectively than high-drama attempts.
Evidence harvesting: Notice micro-proofs that align with your assumption. Each confirmation strengthens neural prediction loops.
Evening rehearsal: Use the hypnagogic state before sleep to fire the pathways in a receptive state. This is when your subconscious integrates assumptions most efficiently.
In essence, repetition works not because it magically “changes reality,” but because it physically rewires your brain to expect and behave as if your assumption is already true. When your neural circuits align with your desired assumption, your perception, choices, and attention shiftnaturally reflecting your assumption in your 3D experience.
[If you want help creating personalized, neuroscience-backed techniques to make your assumptions stick and start seeing consistent results, I offer one-on-one coaching. Together, we can design a plan that rewires your brain in a way that finally makes your manifestations feel effortless, natural, and undeniable.
Message me here or DM me on Instagram @thecaffeinatedWitch to get started]
you can shift by daydreaming. you can shift by fantasizing. you can shift by romanticizing. you can shift by thinking negatively. you can shift while doubting. you can shift while overthinking. you can shift while feeling disconnected. you can shift if you don’t take breaks. you can shift if you don’t feel motivated. you can shift if you don’t believe in yourself.
you can shift by doing whatever. you. want.
people telling you otherwise are just speaking from their own limitations and you have no reason to listen to them. you don’t have to agree with certain beliefs if they don’t align with what feels right to you. you don’t have to accept anything people say if it feels limiting or wrong!
always listen to yourself first. your intuition will guide you far better than outside noise ever could. you are allowed to follow what makes sense to you, because:
you don’t need permission from others, only yourself. ‹𝟹
🪷Moonchild🪷 @alwaysyappinghere - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
2087
tangentwithtanner
izzy806
dailybridgerton
