Warriors, princes and men of Hastinapur, hang your heads in shame

A day arrives in the lives of great men that forever dents their pride and conscience

That day was yesterday, when a lady, high of birth was dragged;

Dragged by the hair in a court filled with men most virtuous of their time

I come not to blame these men or disrepute their honor

For Bhishma, is an honorable man. So are they all, all honorable men

I come to address the situation that has now arisen.

Just like she arose from the fire sacrosanct like a goddess, made of bronze

The purpose of her conception, the destruction of your race

Her whole life she sought patiently for a reason to justify her curse

Yesterday, she found her reason, she protested to incite further not alleviate her horror

Yesterday, she cried tears. Tears of joy they were, for the prophecy had commenced

A woman doesn’t need weapons or magical powers or force of might or trickery

A woman needs but one reason – give it to her, and hell hath no fury that compares

To a sixteenth fraction of the destruction she can wield. So, honorable men

The destruction of your race shall now be on your hands and you will bring it about

For you, honorable men dragged her by the hair and watched the spectacle

Watch the spectacle that ensues now, watch your women lose everything

Just as she nearly did during your act of cowardice.

For every thread that was pulled or witnessed, a river of blood shall flow

Through this land amidst a dance of destruction that engulfs entirety

Brothers shall draw the blood of their brothers on their swords and rejoice

Fathers shall murder the sons they prayed be borne to their loins and exult

Races annihilated, attachments cleaved, connections lost, man dumbfounded.

The air will reek for centuries yet to arrive to tell the tales of the havoc she wreaked

For man must respect woman, or everything will be lost, just like she nearly did.

Yesterday, she was dragged by the hair as you witness silently, rather cowardly

And you are all, honorable men. Who have vanquished armies, to protect your honor

It is only fitting then that you lose everything for this breach of honor

Just like Draupadi nearly did. When you dragged her by the hair. We’ll call it poetic justice.