
A deep dive into story about a woman born into a man’s world.
yachnaa
Hi! What are you reading these days?
I recently finished The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, and I was instantly hooked. This reimagining of the Mahabharata, told through Draupadi’s voice, is a powerful, intimate exploration of what it means to be a woman born into a world ruled by men.
In today’s post we take a deep dive into this remarkable story about a woman born into a man’s world. I’m also experimenting with a new way of writing book reviews in a Q&A format. Think of it as a conversation with the book rather than a traditional critique.
I’d love to know what you think of this style as you read along.
What drew you to Palace of Illusions in the first place?
Every time I visit India, I find myself drawn to Indian literature because I refuse to see everything from a Western point of view. I picked this book up from a roadside stall, and as soon as I read the little summary on the back, I knew I wanted to read it, especially when I saw it was written from Panchali’s point of view. No questions asked. For those of you who don’t know, The Palace of Illusions is a feminist retelling of the Mahabharata told in Draupadi’s voice.
How did you feel right after finishing the book?
Honestly? I was really sad and a bit gloomy while reading the last few pages. Of course, I knew in advance how it would end, but I still couldn’t help feeling heartbroken for pretty much all the characters.
What one word would you use to describe the overall reading experience?
If I had to sum it up in one word: sublime.
What part of Draupadi’s story resonated with you the most?
Since the very first page, I was hooked. From the moment Panchaali was born into her father’s home and reluctantly accepted because she was a girl. I loved how even as a young girl she had such strong, confident opinions and stood up for herself, especially during the time when women were not allowed to have a voice and were basically treated as property.
For instance: I related to her childhood dream of having her own palace, a place that reflected her inner world. Quoting her from the book:
“When I had my own palace, I promised myself, it would be totally different. I closed my eyes and imagined a riot of color and sound, birds singing in mango and custard apple orchards, butterflies flitting among jasmines, and in the midst of it—but I could imagine yet the shape that my future home would take. Would it be elegant as crystal? Solidly precious, like a jewel-studded goblet? Delicate and intricate, like gold filigree? I only knew that it would mirror my deepest being, there I would finally be at home.”
Can you imagine being that young and already knowing exactly what you want in life? I found that so inspiring and oh so relatable.
Her bond with her brother Dhri was one of the many things that stayed with me. He was her trusted friend in an otherwise lonely palace. I felt her ache when she was denied an education because it wasn’t “princess vibes.” Her rebellion burned quietly but powerfully in every page.
“King Drupad had balked at the thought of me studying with my brother. A girl being taught what a boy was supposed to learn? Such a thing never been heard of in the royal family…Even Dhai Ma, my accomplice in so many other areas of my life, regarded the lessons with misgiving. She explained that they were making me too hardheaded and argumentative, too manlike in my speech.”
Reading this, I could feel her frustration. It made me think of how many women across time and even today are denied education. Their curiosity and brilliance are treated as the biggest threat to society.
And then, of course, her marriage to the five brothers. Honestly? I was furious. She loved one, but was forced to marry all five. She had no say in the most important decision of her life. She was consistently throughout the book treated as property, no different from cattle or a pawn in a political game. And the infamous Cheerharan scene? Despite having five husbands, not one stood up for her honor. I kept asking myself: what gave them the right to pawn her off in a gambling match? Her rage became my rage. And, I understood why vengeance consumed her.
What softened this for me was her friendship with Krishna. He was her only true mentor, confidant, and friend. Their bond felt timeless and healing. As she said:
“When I thought myself abandoned, he was busy supporting me—but so subtly that I often didn’t notice. He loved me even when I behaved in a most unlovable manner. And his love was totally different from every other in my life. Unlike them, it didn’t expect me to behave in a certain way. It didn’t change into displeasure or anger or even hatred if I didn’t comply. It healed me.”
This quote has since become one of my favourite quotes ever because isn’t this what love is supposed to be?
Did this retelling change how you see the Mahabharata or its characters?
In all honesty, I’ve never read or watched the Mahabharata fully, so my knowledge was pretty basic going in. But one thing I found odd was Panchaali’s longing for Karna. Knowing his role in the Cheerharan in real life, it felt strange that the book romanticized that connection knowing that he was one of the perpetrators . It left me a bit conflicted.
What themes stood out to you—love, destiny, power, feminism, longing, war?
The theme of destiny really hit me. If everything is pre-written, as the book suggests, are we just vessels carrying out fate? Are we puppets with no say? I’ve always believed destiny is an excuse people use when they give up. I believe in making things happen despite the odds. But in the book, everything unfolded as predicted, making me question just how much power we really have.
The other theme that stayed with me was war. I’ve always believed war is never a sane answer. The Pandavas “won,” but at what cost? Duryodhan’s last words to Yudhisthir were haunting:
“I’m going to heaven to enjoy all its pleasures with my friends. You’ll rule a kingdom peopled with widows and orphans and wake each morning to the grief of loss. Who’s the real winner, then, and who the loser?”
This is the most devastating I’ve read about real implications of war. No winners. Just broken homes, hearts, and families.
How did you feel about Draupadi’s voice as a narrator?
Her voice was fresh, confident, and bold. A woman who knows what she wants. Looking at the world through her eyes felt relatable especially as a woman. When her teacher declared that a woman’s highest purpose was to support men, she fired back: “And who decided that a woman’s highest purpose was to support men?” That line gave me goosebumps. As a modern woman, I could relate so much to her defiance and loneliness in holding views that didn’t match the world around her. Even though the story is set in an ancient time, Panchaali’s voice felt modern and timeless.
Were there moments when you admired her, felt frustrated with her, or deeply related to her?
Absolutely. I admired her grace in accepting situations forced upon her, even when she had no say. Like being married to five men or being humiliated in court. I understood her pent up rage when her palace and dignity were gambled away without her consent as if it didn’t matter. I admired her strength, but I also felt her frustration deeply.
Throughout the book, I highlighted so many lines that spoke to me. Sharing just a few of my favourite ones:
Each of these quotes stopped me in my tracks, making me reflect on life, love, and resilience.
I would highly recommend this book to everyone especially my women, since this is a feminist retelling of the Mahabharata from Panchali’s perspective in a patriarchal society. The book flows beautifully, and I found myself not wanting to put it down once I picked it up. I was so eager to finish, and while reading, I often found myself discussing it with a friend who knows the Mahabharata deeply. He would tell me intriguing stories, which only made me more curious, enchanted, and eager to learn more. This book has actually inspired me to read the original text and even watch the televised series.
xx
Yachna