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This painting is trying to tell us a story — a very specific one.

We are in ancient India, where you are the lucky recipient of a front-row seat to an archery contest devised by King Drupada, the ruler of the powerful Panchala kingdom in the northern part of the country.

People have gathered to compete for the hand of his daughter, Draupadi, who was traditionally described as one of the most beautiful women of the age, with eyes like lotus flowers and a fragrance you could smell for miles.

Our scene illustrates a swayamvar, which is “a practice where women could choose their husbands from a gathering of eligible suitors,” said Mallica Kumbera Landrus, the keeper of the Eastern art department for the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, where this painting is held. “She could simply have chosen her personal preference from the group, or the selection process could involve a public contest.”

The archery contest, one of strength and skill, is a well-traveled theme in art and storytelling. It’s often used to answer a simple question: Which man can prove himself worthy of this woman?

In some versions of Robin Hood, Robin Hood (in disguise) demonstrates his precision and skill by winning an archery contest and, eventually, the hand of Maid Marian.

In the Odyssey, Odysseus (in disguise) strings his bow and shoots an arrow through 12 ax heads lined up to win (back) Penelope (his wife).

Our contestants here must shoot this fish, revolving on that red stick high above the ground, through the eye:

The scene is festive. The band, in the bottom left corner, is ready to go.

The court is packed with kings and princes from far and wide to win Draupadi’s hand. Many tried to string the bow and hit the eye of the fish, but they failed.

“These are the losers,” said Joan Cummins, who oversees the extensive Asian art collection at the Brooklyn Museum.

As the kings and the princes look on to see how the next contestant will do, their servants behind them hold fans made of peacock feathers (called morchal), to swat away the flies and keep them cool in the heat.

At the center of our view, someone is about to succeed.

This is Arjuna. He’s not quite a god, but he’s not merely a man, either — his mother was a mortal and his father was king of the gods. He’s a skilled warrior and deep thinker. He’s painted blue, Ms. Kumbera Landrus said, because heroes and gods in Hindu stories are often painted like the “midnight sky.”

His bow is strung, ready to shoot his skinny arrow through the eye of the fish. (In other tellings, the contestants aren’t able to look up directly at the fish — only down at its reflection in water or oil.)

Even though we view only the moment before the shot, we know that Arjuna’s shot is true, and he wins the competition. We know because the view on the right is also Arjuna, moments after his victory. It was common in Hindu narrative paintings like this to show the same character twice.

There, his new bride is placing a ceremonial white garland around his neck.

Behind them are Arjuna’s brothers.

There is some deception behind this marriage: Arjuna and his brothers are in disguise, shirtless with their hair in buns, posing as members of the highest social class, the Brahmins.

Above the action below, the gods are happy, bestowing flowers and blessings on the union.

This story told in the painting is most likely thousands of years old. It’s from the Mahabharata, the great epic central to Hindu culture. Sometimes called the “longest poem ever written” (a stage production from 1985 ran nine hours long), it is a tale full of warring cousins — the Kauravas and the Paṇḍavas — with a plethora of subplots, gods, battles, philosophical and moral lessons. And lots of death, too.

The Mahabharata, with variations and retellings, has been likened to a mix of the Odyssey, the Bible, the stories of King Arthur and “War and Peace.”

It’s a sprawling story, and we’re used to seeing big paintings tell big stories. “Washington Crossing the Delaware,” more than 21 feet wide, tells the story of a turning point in the Revolutionary War. The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo tells the story of the creation of man.

You might have thought this painting was big, too, based on its complex story and layered composition. But it’s actually only about 16 inches wide.

Paintings like this were made by groups of artists, sometimes family members. The artists built up layers of color, over and over, to get the rich tones we see here. They used brushes that could be as small as a single squirrel hair.

“This is a very fine painting,” said Laura Weinstein, a curator of South Asian art at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. “It would have been made for a royal or elite patron and would have been accessible only to the family and close relations and friends who visited them.”

Like a graphic novel or a comic book, this image would have probably been just one in a series telling various parts of the epic tale.

“For those unable to read, the illustrations would have been wonderfully accessible,” Ms. Kumbera Landrus said.

The arrangement of people is straightforward. The “losers” (and their entourages) are on the left; the king and his entourage are on the right; Arjuna stands alone in the middle.

“Over and over again, what we might call naturalism is sacrificed for legibility,” Ms. Cummins said.

For example, though there are two moments depicted, it all takes place in one continuous space, set inside an angled palace courtyard where the perspective isn’t realistic. But it means you can see much more in one image. This perspective minimizes overlap in the faces — there are 116 — so we can see their expressions, hands, jewels, even beard hairs, clearly, despite this small space.

You could hold works like this in your hands, and get really close to inspect them.

“You would get your friends together, maybe have a little something to drink or smoke and look at paintings together,” Ms. Cummins said. “It was a nice way to pass an evening. You can look at these multiple times and still find new details that you didn’t see previously.”

The Mahabharata has been reinterpreted countless times — as recently as just last month, at Lincoln Center — and illustrated in varying styles.

In this scene from the early 1800s, here is Arjuna, doubled again, praying to the god Shiva (upper left) for a powerful weapon that he needs for battle.

Or here, from 1850, portraying Arjuna’s first death (he dies twice), by his (spoiler alert) son, ironically by an arrow.

Both this image and the one above are currently on view at the Brooklyn Museum.

In his training as an archer, Arjuna excelled as a student.

One of his great skills was his ability to simply focus. As the story goes, his archery teacher asked various students, one by one, to look at a target and tell him what they saw. One saw the sky, others saw the tree branches and clouds, and some were distracted by other things that made it into their line of sight.

Arjuna replied that all he saw was the eye of the fish.

“The fish’s eye is used, or was used, as an idiom for maintaining your concentration,” Ms. Cummings said. “Focus on the business at hand. Don’t get distracted.”

This is an installment in our series of experiments on art and attention. If you liked this one, you may like these past exercises: a finished, unfinished portrait; a sudden rain over a bridge; a unicorn tapestry; some buckets from Home Depot; and a Whistler painting.

Sign up to be notified when new installments are published here. And let us know how this exercise made you feel in the comments.

On June 27, the music fell silent. Shefali Jariwala, the face that made an entire generation swing to the beats of ‘Kaanta Laga,’ passed away at the age of 42, following a suspected cardiac arrest. Declared dead upon arrival at the hospital, her sudden demise sent a wave of shock across the entertainment industry and beyond. But those who knew her, worked with her, and loved her, remember her not just as the ‘Kaanta Laga girl,’ but as someone who was full of life, dreams, and substance.‘We found our doll on a scooter ride’ – Filmmaker Vinay Sapru remembers discovering ShefaliFilmmaker Vinay Sapru, who co-directed the iconic remix video with Radhika Rao, recalled their first meeting like it happened yesterday. “We discovered her when she was just 19. It wasn’t a structured casting process—it was destiny,” he told ETimes.“We were driving on Linking Road when a scooter came up next to us. A mother was riding, and a young girl was hugging her from behind. Radhika and I looked at each other and said, ‘That’s our girl.’”When they stopped her at a signal and handed her their card, Shefali revealed she was an engineering student with no experience in front of the camera. “Still, she came to our office the very next day,” Vinay said, smiling. “She was all energy and heart. No training, but full of life. That innocence, those kisses she blew at the camera—she was exactly what we had imagined. We knew we had found our doll.”A story that stayed etched in Vinay’s heart was from Shefali’s birthday rehearsal. “She’d just received a pair of white jeans from her sister. We told her to take the day off and celebrate. But she insisted on working,” he recalled.“She said, ‘How I spend my birthday sets the tone for my year.’ At the end of rehearsals, her brand-new white jeans were covered in mud. Her eyes welled up when she saw them. But she smiled and said, ‘This is the best birthday I’ve had—rehearsing and cutting cake with all of you.’ That’s the kind of girl she was.”

Vinay reflected on the shoot schedule, which spanned just three tight days. “We’d pack up at 2 am and be back at 7 am. But Shefali never missed a beat. She knew the entire song revolved around her. She gave it everything she had.”What started with a spontaneous scooter sighting turned into one of Indian pop culture’s most iconic music videos. “Within three months, she became the nation’s crush,” he said. “Twenty years later, people still refer to her as the Kaanta Laga girl. She wanted that. She once told me, ‘I want to be remembered that way forever.’ And she will be.”‘She came with cakes and dreams just 20 days ago’

Their final meeting was filled with laughter and planning. “Just 20 days ago, she visited us with cakes and pastries from her favorite Japanese bakery,” Vinay recalled. “She said, ‘I’ve had an incredible 20 years… now let’s plan the next 20.’”They spoke for hours, discussing new songs, live events, and a fresh creative chapter. “Everything was falling into place,” he said. “And now she’s gone. Maybe it’s true—God takes His favourites early.”With a heavy heart, he added, “People have asked us to make Kaanta Laga 2 or 3. We never could. And now, we never will. We’re retiring the song—like a jersey number—because it belonged to her. It always did.”‘She was a happy soul who loved life’ – Shreyas Talpade shares his memories

Actor Shreyas Talpade, who worked with Shefali in the ALTBalaji comedy Baby Come Naa, remembered her as “inherently simple and deeply attached to her family.”“She became more active on social media during our shoot and soon mastered it,” he told ETimes. “She was chilled out about work and loved spending quality time with her loved ones. A happy person, full of life. What happened is just too shocking. I pray her family finds strength during these incredibly difficult times.”‘I used to call her Chupdi, my Chupdi’ – Hindustani Bhau on their sibling-like bond

Vikas Fhatak, popularly known as Hindustani Bhau, became close to Shefali during Bigg Boss 13. “She was like a sister, like a daughter to me,” he told ANI, his voice trembling. “I used to call her Chupdi—my Chupdi. That bond was real.”Bhau recalled her strength and described her as “a daughter who had the heart and responsibility of a son.” He added, “She took care of her entire family. She had a heart attack, but her heart was never weak.”Their memories together are now painful reminders of her absence. “Her number is still saved in my mother’s phone. But it doesn’t ring anymore. That silence… it breaks you,” he said.On Rakshabandhan, she would surprise him with gifts. “I have so many memories. I cry just thinking of them,” he admitted. “Why did she have to go like this? All we can do now is pray for her peace.”‘She was a superstar from day one’ – Mika Singh bids farewell

Singer Mika Singh, who featured alongside Shefali in the hit track Honthon Pe Bas, expressed his sorrow outside the funeral. “She achieved stardom at an age when most people are still figuring out who they are,” he said.“Shefali wasn’t just a pretty face—she was a performer, a magnet. Whether it was fans or directors, everyone loved her. Wherever she went, she left a mark.”Speaking about her husband, actor Parag Tyagi, Mika said, “Her mother was inconsolable. Parag… he’s shattered. My heart breaks for him. She was his world.”He ended with a poignant reminder: “Stars like Shefali never die. They live on in our hearts. She was a superstar from day one—and she’ll always be remembered that way.”‘I will find you in every lifetime’ – Parag Tyagi’s moving farewell

After her prayer meet, Parag Tyagi finally broke his silence, sharing an emotional post:“I will find you every time you are born and I will love you in every lifetime. I love you eternally, meri gundi, meri chokri.”In his previous post, he wrote, “Shefali, meri pari—the ever-eternal Kaanta Laga—was so much more than what met the eye. She was fire wrapped in grace… fiercely driven, yet soft and selfless. She was sab ki maa—always putting others first, always offering comfort. A generous daughter, a devoted wife, and a wonderful mom to Simba.”She lived with love, left with grace

Shefali Jariwala lived a life that blended stardom with simplicity, fame with humility. She was a girl next door who became a national icon, yet never lost touch with her roots.Her story isn’t just about a viral music video or a TV show. It’s about a life well-lived, relationships deeply felt, and memories that will linger—on screens, in hearts, and in the soft rhythm of Kaanta Laga. She may have left the stage, but her spotlight will never dim.May her name be remembered not just as the Kaanta Laga girl, but as Shefali—the performer, the friend, the daughter, the wife, the dreamer, and the star who shone in her own unique light.