(In the present)
Two and a half years after we went out on our first date,
two and a half bloody years, that’s how long it’s taken me to get her to come
out again. I didn’t leave much of a first impression for sure but here she is
beside me in my car and we are out driving on the highway.
She’s playing songs from her phone through the car radio. I
like that she’s comfortable, playing around with the music system, shaking her
head to the music. She likes the windows down and so they are down (okay, so I’m
acutely aware that I have to keep her happy!).
It’s crazy that she’s come this far. I mean wow… we are here
on the highway far from the city and it’s well past midnight. This is a dream!
And how did I manage this feat? Simple, dear reader, you need to be a writer.
See all those years ago I got my first date because of a
small piece I’d written about her. It was funny and she loved it. After many
years I put two and two together and realized if I wanted another chance I’d
have to write something about her again.
But this one is a full story and the main protagonist is
based on her or how I’d imagine her in maybe say 5 or 6 centuries ago. I told
her that I’d written this great piece with her in mind and she was naturally
curious (don’t we all love attention?). I made one condition; I wanted her to
read this piece in the place where I’d first gotten my inspiration. And that’s
the place where we are off to on the highway.
I took the car as far as it would go up the hill then parked.
From here we climbed a few steps to the temple. But the place I had in mind was
slightly above the temple and I guided her there by my cell phone light.
It is a fantastic view of the
city and she spent a few minutes enjoying it. I then called out to her and took
her to a little spot just beyond. This was a ledge, a narrow one that just
curled out of the rock and is almost dangling in the air. I walked on to it and
bade her to follow. She looked nervously but she came over. I made her sit down
there over the ledge with her legs dangling in the air. I then took out my
laptop, opened the story and gave it to her to read.
“All this effort for me to read
the story?”- She enquired with a hint of a smile on her face.
“Trust me, setting is extremely
important. You’ll realize it only once you’ve read it.”
Then she started to read.
(In the story)
Zamindar Tapovan Lal was riding his horse with his son
Mohana riding beside him and a small band of body guards behind. The entourage
was making its way to the enemy encampment just outside the city walls. They
were surrounded on all four sides and were issued an ultimatum to be present
immediately. They had no option but to oblige.
Mohana observed that his father’s face was forlorn. He was
no doubt worried for the family- himself, his wife, Mohana and Mohana’s two
sisters. It was tradition for victors to destroy the first family of any land
they conquered.
A large tent had been put up at the centre of the camp and
they were guided to it. They were signalled to enter the camp alone and they
did so. At the centre of the tent was placed a simple iron chair and there was
a young man sitting on it. He was dark and wore plain armour. He was very
simple looking but the eyes shone with intelligence. The only thing that gave
him any grandeur was the armed sentries on either side of him. A wizened old
man stood behind the chair whispering in to his ears.
He motioned to them to come forward. He looked at them with
his piercing eyes. The old man behind began to speak. He declared that ‘The Maheshas’-
father & son, were now the rulers of their lands. He demanded that they
declare their loyalty to the new royals and kneel in submission. Tapovan Lal
bowed his head and indicated to his son to follow suit. They kneeled before
their new lord. Mohana was seething inside at the humiliation.
They rose and the young prince nodded his pleasure at their acquiescence.
The old man looked at the Zamindar directly and said that it was rumoured that
Birjapur was the jewel in the Shakriya kingdom. The Zamindar bowed
respectfully.
“The people of these lands seem to have high regard for your
administrative skills. They believe you to be fair and just. The lands have
never suffered famine in your time. In fact the people have been very
productive and, as a result, become very wealthy.”- said the young prince
looking straight at Tapovan Lal.
“I did what was my duty.”- Tapovan replied.
The young prince smiled. He turned back and whispered in to
the old man’s ear. He then turned towards Tapovan and his son.
“I speak as a representative of my father- King Ananda
Mahesha. I, Vikaraman Mahesha, now declare the lands of Birjapur to belong to
the Kingdom of Vijaya.” He paused for a bit before he resumed.
“You had ordered your armies against us. That would make you
our enemy. However, my father is both wise and just. Tapovan Lal, we would like
you to continue to administer the lands of Birjapur as Zamindar, only now for
the King of Vijaya, to whom it belongs.”
Tapovan Lal was dumbfounded. He looked around at his son who
looked equally bewildered. He quickly gathered his wits and indicated to his
son to kneel with him.
He got up, bowed his head and spoke.
“I have no words to thank you my Prince for your
graciousness.”
The Prince smiled in acknowledgment.
“It is well deserved. We have certain conditions though.
Your armies will be dismantled. We will be taking all your officers and half
your men as prisoners back to Vijaya. The remaining will not be permitted to
carry any arms or organize themselves in whatsoever way. Any transgression will
be met with immediate death penalty. The Poohar regiment will remain stationed
here in Vijaya and will help you in enforcing the laws of the new King.”
Mohana could feel his jaws clench. There would be no real power
or authority with the Zamindar family. They would have to obey every word of
their new masters.
“You will continue to ensure that the same royalty that was
paid to the Shakriya kingdom is now paid to us. Additionally you are now
responsible for re-stocking the army’s grains and weapons which have been
depleted. You will ensure that no harm comes to any man in our army. You will
also ensure that the King, his representatives and all his countrymen are
treated with utmost respect and courtesy in all Birjapur.”
Tapovan bowed his head in affirmation and his son followed
suit.
“You can continue to administer the lands from your palace.
You can continue to use your old administrative staff. You will prepare a
fortnightly report in a format prescribed by our Pramukh,” he pointed towards
the old man, “that will detail the administrative as well as economic criteria
that we will monitor. You will also notify and seek approval from the Pramukh
in advance for any visitors you invite to your palace or for any movement you
or your family seek to undertake outside of your palace.”
Tapovan nodded in the direction of the Pramukh.
“Oh and one last thing, failure to comply with any of these
conditions will mean death for you and your family.”
Tapovan Lal looked ashen. The warning was straight as an
arrow. He bowed his head and Mohana also did the same swallowing the
humiliation of having to hear his family being warned.
“You may leave.”
(In the present)
“Okay, so my family just lost the war?”- She enquired with mocked
incredulity.
“Not ‘just’ lost. This happened like five centuries ago.”- I
replied tongue- in- cheek. “And see they didn’t really lose. They’ve got a good
deal from the prince don’t you think so?”- I followed trying to give her some
perspective.
“Ah ha, I see. Why don’t you like my brother?”
“Oh come on. It’s just a story.”
“But still. Clearly he’s going to be up to something.”
“Really, is it that obvious?”- I replied worried that my
plot points were unravelling quicker than I thought it would.
“Yeah, I mean I could make out.”
“Okay.”- I replied with a heavy tone.
She laughed a little when she heard my tone. Then she turned
her face to one side and looked at me with piercing eyes and asked- “Who’s the
prince?”
“It could be anyone.”- I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Really now?”
“Will you please continue reading?”- I pleaded.
“Okay”- she said with a smile
and went on.
(In the story)
Her life was turned upside down. She couldn’t leave the
palace as and when she liked thanks to the rules of the new rulers. She hated
the new king and his prince. Everything was suddenly so stifling. She could feel the stress her entire family
was going through. She looked out her window and the full moon had lit up the
little temple above the hill. She knew what she had to do.
In the darkness of night she tiptoed out of the palace and
managed to slip by the guards. She was careful to dress like a commoner lest
she be noticed. She wrapped her head in a stole and covered herself in a cloak.
It was cold and a slight shiver ran down her spine. Her fingers felt the blade
under the cloak and it gave her a warm confidence.
She reached the top of the hill and took off her cloak. It
was chill but it was wonderful to bask in the freedom and moonlight. There was a light breeze and the temple
compound setting made her think of spirits, adventure and romance, lifting her
soul and placing her in a sort of trance. She almost felt like dancing.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here at this time?”
Almost in reflex she drew out her sword and turned towards
the voice. It was a young dark man in shabby clothes. He was a little taken
aback when he saw the dagger and he jerked back reflexively.
There was a moment of silence while both of them were
judging each other. Finally he spoke.
“If you’re a thief then you’ve got nothing to fear. I’m in
hiding too.”
She had to stifle her laugh but she quickly gathered herself
and played coy. She held the blade straight at him. He spoke again.
“Look, either you lunge at me and get it done with or say
something. This is getting awkward.”
She admired the man’s bravery. She put her blade a little
lower and spoke.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I’m in hiding.”
“Hiding? From whom?”
“The authorities.”
“Why are you hiding from them?”
“I’m a thief.”
She looked him up and down after he said this. He did look
the part of a vagabond but there was no telling his profession.
“What did you steal?”
“Many things. All sorts of things.”
“And you came here to hide?”
“Yes. This place is as safe as it can get.”
“Why do I get the
feeling that you are mocking me?”
“Look I’ll show you my stash of loot. It’s right there.” He
pointed out to a rock just behind her.
She thought for a moment then she nodded and indicated that
he move to the rock. She had her sword pointed at him as he moved around her.
He turned his back away from her, bent down and then
suddenly he picked up some dirt and flung it in her general direction. She was
blinded momentarily when he sprung on her. He had her by her wrists so she
wasn’t free to swing. She tried to kick him but he was too quick. They both lost balance and fell down. The
sword fell some distance from them and they were wrestling on the ground.
She kicked him in the chest and the he lost grip of her
momentarily. He recovered quickly enough to grab her by the ankles. She tried
desperately to reach the sword but his grip was firm and pulling her away from
it. Finally in one firm pull he brought her back and expertly somersaulted his
way to the blade. He picked it up and pointed it at her.
The stole which had covered her face had come off. It was
the first time he got a complete look at her and he had to pause. Her hair came
off and fell on to her shoulders in waves. She turned her taut face towards him
leaving him mesmerized.
Her lovely dark doe eyes shone brilliantly contrasting the
moonlight. A trickle of sweat flowed from her forehead on to her high
cheekbones making him realize the almost perfect symmetry of her face. He
looked at her soft lips and felt raw desire.
He shook himself from his reverie, looked at her and smiled.
Then he spoke.
“So, where were we? Yes, what are you doing here?”
She didn’t like being fooled and the anger showed on her
face. She spoke in rage and said- “Don’t you dare try anything with me. I will
tear you to pieces before I let you near me. You fool.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“Who are you?”-he enquired, bewildered by her aggressiveness
and the authoritative tone of voice in a very vulnerable position.
She caught his tone and realized she might have given away too
much. She responded smartly by saying- “I’m an outlaw, just like you“.
He walked around her keeping his sword pointed at her. He
reached out behind one of the temple pillars and picked up another sword. He
then threw her sword back at her and spoke.
“Makes sense, you have some skills.”
They looked in to each other’s eyes. The breeze continued blowing
across.
“I think you should leave now.”-he said.
“Maybe you should?”-she replied.
He smiled at that as he was enjoying this woman’s confidence
in a very vulnerable position. He reached out behind the pillar again and
pulled out a bag. From inside the bag he pulled out two oranges. He flung one
at her and began to peel the other one.
She tried to play cool too. She peeled her orange. They both
seated themselves on some rocks. They looked at each other a little
uncomfortably. After some time he spoke.
“You know, we used to live on a hill. And my mother and I would
go out in the night and sit out just like this and eat some fruit.”
“That’s nice. Where’s your mother now?”
“She passed away when I was nine.”
She looked at him. He could sense that she was
uncomfortable.
“That’s okay. It happened a long time ago.”- He said to
assuage her. “So, what brings you
here?”- He followed.
“I just came here on an impulse.”- She replied.
“Really? But why here?”
“I just wanted to get away from it all. To be myself again.
I saw this place from below and I knew I had to climb up.”
“But, it’s not safe for …”
“Fear is what’s so stifling.”- She interjected.
He smiled at that. He looked at her and nodded in
acknowledgment.
“What brings you here?”- She enquired.
“Frankly, it’s the same, an impulse.”
“You mean this is not your regular hideout?”
“No. It’s my first time here.”
“That’s a strange coincidence.”
“Yes, it is.”
They looked at each other and gave each other a little
smile.
“I sometimes get carried away by life. I like to find a
spot, usually at some distance, stare in to the horizon and just be.”- He
continued turning his face away.
“My God! A philosopher thief!”- She exclaimed.
He turned towards her and they both laughed.
“So tell me, what was the last thing you stole?”- She
enquired.
“There’s an army camp just outside of the city. You know of
it?”
“Yes!”- She replied.
“Well I didn’t have any good clothes with me. So I made my
way in to the camp, walked around, found this cooking shed and the cooks were
all asleep in it.”
“Go on.”
“I quietly got in, found the place where they kept their
spare clothes, stole a pair and that’s what you see on me.”
She looked at his clothes, then turned towards him, and said
in a slightly derogatory tone.
“You stole clothes from a cook?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s not impressive at all.”
“Pardon me?”
“I mean. Come on. You could have stolen it from an officer,
a general or even the prince right? Look…”
She reached in to her pocket and picked out her own gold
bangles.
“I stole these from a merchant’s house this morning. This is
pure gold. This is what I would consider ‘loot’.”
He was hurt and looked at her intently for about ten
seconds. Then he reached in to his pocket, removed a solid gold medallion and
gave it to her.
She looked at it in wonderment and then turned to look at
him.
“That’s the prince’s medallion.”
She was both surprised and in awe.
“How did you…”
“I’ve been working as a cleaner with the army for about a
month now. I slowly managed to sneak in and pick this up.”
She looked up at him with new found respect. He put out his
hand and she gave the medallion back. He slid it in to his pocket. He then spoke.
“I didn’t steal the prince’s clothes because, quite frankly,
he doesn’t have very good taste.”
They both burst in to laughter.
(In the present)
“So this is me?”- She enquired in an excited tone.
“Maybe”- I replied trying to keep her curiosity piqued.
“Who’s this guy?”
“Could be anyone.”
“Now I’m a little confused.”
“Good. That means I’ve not lost my writing skills.”
“Okay, let me continue reading.”
(In the story)
Every day she woke up she would look forward to the night.
She would look forward to sneaking out from the palace and making her way to
the temple on the hill and sharing fruit with the friendly thief.
There was a little cliff just slightly above the temple.
They would sit there with their legs dangling over the ledge and talk for
hours. She enjoyed these conversations. They
would gaze out in to the horizon with the night sky enveloping them in a warm
embrace. There was always a slight breeze blowing on the top and the touch of
it on her skin made her feel alive.
She made up her life story from bits and pieces of here and
there talks that she’d had with her maids. She was an orphan making her way in
the big bad world. He had lost his mother at an early age and had to leave home
because of poverty.
They then moved on to talking about distant places they’d
been to and fabulous heists that they had managed to get away with. She was of
course making things up. Every night she would sneak out something from her
house, show it to him and make up a story of how she had acquired it with her
wits.
He would also bring his loot and they would compare with
each other. They would judge each other not only on the value of the loot but
how they also managed to acquire it. She found that each night she had to take
more and more things of value in order to keep up with him. She had to take her
jewellery, her hand mirrors, silk dresses, and decorative knives and yet he
somehow managed to match her every night.
They also talked about life and passions and dreams. He was
intelligent and a great conversationalist. She loved hearing him talk and she
loved being creative in her own stories.
Slowly she started noticing more and more about him. His
appearance was coarse and rugged- a ‘man of the world’ types. His habits were
neat but outwardly he lacked certain finesse. But he more than made up for it
with his polite manners and his quite confidence.
The most striking thing about him was his eyes. They quite
literally shone in the night. He had a little mole just below his right eye
which she playfully called his beauty spot. He noticed her mole at the tip of
her neck and he called it her ‘centre of attraction’. She felt both teased and
excited by it. He had big ears and she would playfully call him ‘jumbo’ at
times. He called her his “little doe” because of her eyes.
They shared jokes and would jab at each other once in a
while. Their fingers touched every once in a while when they shared something
with each other or while resting on their palms. She didn’t notice it at first
but every night she was sitting closer and closer to him. He didn’t seem to
notice it either. Or maybe he didn’t care, she didn’t know.
She knew she was falling in
love. She knew it was completely inappropriate but there was nothing she could
do about it.
(In the present)
“Okay, so ‘this’ is the place which you’ve written about.”- She
said. I nodded my head in acknowledgment.
“And this guy is you.”- she said confidently.
I pretended to be flabbergasted.
“Of course it is you. I see your mole.”
I tried to cover my mole with my right hand and pretended
like I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“And you noticed my mole at the tip of my neck did you?”- She
continued with a hint of tease in her tone.
Of course I had. But again I pretended like I didn’t know
what she was talking about.
“And so we fall in love?”- She continued on teasingly.
“You fall in love with the guy in the story.”- I replied
trying not to give too much away.
“Which is you.”- she replied trying to corner me.
“No! Will you just continue with the story?”
She smiled her mischievous smile
and continued on.
(In the story)
Tapovan Lal called his family to his chambers. Once they’d
assembled he spoke.
“I’ve just received a letter from the Prince that he desires
to visit us. He will be here tomorrow. Of course we will have to be at our best
for his Majesty.”
The Zamindar’s stiff voice was lost on no one. Mohini
understood her father’s predicament. She hoped and prayed that the Prince’s
visit would be a smooth affair.
Her mother called her aside once the meeting with her father
was over.
“Mohini, you need to be careful tomorrow.”
“Why Amma?”
“The Prince is coming. You are a
young woman. If he sets eyes on you and makes a request to your father we will
have no option but to oblige.”
(In the story)
She had carefully covered her head with her pallu so that she
didn’t reveal too much of herself to the Prince. She was proud of her pretty face but she
understood her mother’s warning clearly.
Her vision was also blocked but she’d prefer that to marriage with her
family’s tormentor. When she was called to welcome the prince in the large hall
her mother had to guide her inside as she could hardly see anything outside her
own two feet.
She knew she was in front of him when her mother made the
announcement.
“Your majesty, this is our daughter Mohini.”
Mohini folded her hands in
namastey and made a bow. She put her hands back and lifted her head slowly careful
not to reveal too much. She observed him from bottom up taking in his plain
looking leather chappals, his starch white dhoti, and his light cream coloured
kurta, wondering where was all the royal finery when she finally reached his
face and was shocked. It was her thief, the one that had stolen her heart.
(In the present)
“How totally bollywood”- she said and put her tongue out.
But she laughed and I enjoyed it.
“And you are Mr. Prince Charming. I knew it all along.”
I nodded my head mockingly. She
went back to reading.
(In the story)
She knew she was never going to forget this night. She’d run
up the hill to find him already waiting there for her. He was dressed as usual
in his vagabond attire. They turned towards each other and smiled.
“I couldn’t imagine a simpler looking prince!”-she said in a
slightly mocking tone.
“And I couldn’t imagine a shyer princess covering her face
behind her pallu.”-he replied mocking her back.
She then ran towards him and playfully punched him in the
stomach with her fists. He started laughing loudly while playfully trying to
defend. She joined him in the laughter but she did manage in between to call
him a few mean things like- “liar”, “fake”, “mean” and other adjectives. But it
was all lost in the laughter.
She then stopped and caught his face in her hands. They’d
looked in to each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. Her mind was in
tumult. She didn’t know what to say or do. She let go off him, turned around
and went and sat on the ledge.
She was looking out at the starry skies and the lands all
the while trying to gather her thoughts and feelings. Her heart was beating
hard. He came and sat right beside her. They sat there with their legs dangling
over the cliff. Slowly he took her palm in his and held it.
She looked towards him. Again
their eyes met and she could feel her heart melt. She turned away and slowly
put her head on his shoulder. He obliged by pressing his cheek against her
head. They spent some time like this. After a while she decided to break the
silence.
“You know for a prince you have
a long way to go in dressing sense. We really need to get you some finer
clothes. You need to look the part of a royal. “- she said in her signature
mocking tone and stressing slightly on the suggestive ‘we’.
“I agree. I’ve thought about it
for long and have realised that I’m going to need help and I think I know just
the person for it.”-he replied, playing along. She looked up at him and
enquired almost hopefully by saying- “Really? Who?”
“’Sadashiv Tailor’, I’ve heard is
the best in Birjapur. I heard he’s the one who stitches clothes for your father
and brother.”
She rolled her eyes as he said
this and playfully jabbed him in the gut with her elbow.
They sat like that in the same
position for a long time. Neither wanted this moment to end. They were slowly
falling in love with each other.
(In the present)
I could see that she was totally absorbed by the story. She
was at times smiling, rolling her eyes, had her tongue out, forehead twitched,
the whole set of expressions as she was reading.
At times she would turn towards me, give me a look and shake
her head and twitch her eyebrows in wonder or surprise or tease. I was sitting
next to her. The breeze was blowing her hair in my face. She has such wonderful
soft hair I could imagine rolling my face in it. God why do you give women so
soft beautiful hair?
And her eyes man her eyes. Those lovely doe eyes. They are
just something else. I could spend the entire night just looking at her eyes.
Wow!
I didn’t disturb her. I wanted
her to read the whole thing. So I let her read while I sat there enjoying her
being my side with the night sky, the moonlight and the background setting of
the historical temple ruins adding to the romance and mystery. ‘Mystery’
because I had no idea how it was going to turn out for me.
(In the story)
Mohana wanted to go hunting. He had his quiver prepared and
picked up his bow. As he was stepping out of the palace one of the guards
blocked his way. Mohana looked furiously at the guard and said in a thundering
voice-
“Let me go you fool. How dare you block my way?”
“My lord, it is our instructions to not let anyone from the
family outside without due approvals.”- said the guard respectfully.
Mohana’s face turned red with rage. He gripped the guard by
his shirt and flung him away. The other guards quickly surrounded Mohana and
pointed their spears at him.
The Pramukh was inside with Tapovan Lal when the commotions
happened. They both quickly came outside to see what was going on. Tapovan Lal
noticed Mohana surrounded by guards and immediately knew that his son had had
one of his famous fits of anger.
“What is going on?”- Tapovan Lal enquired.
“These fools won’t let me go out hunting.”- Mohana replied in
a furious tone.
The head body guard turned around towards the Pramukh and
Tapovan Lal and asked for permission to speak. The Pramukh granted this.
“Sir, we have strict orders not to let anyone leave the
palace without due approvals. We were only following instructions.”- He said.
“Lord Mohana, you were present when his highness Prince
Vikraman gave strict instructions to your family. Why then are you trying to
break the rules?”- said the Pramukh.
“I’m breaking no rules. I’m a Lord and a Lords go hunting. Do
I have to seek permission for a simple hunting expedition?”- replied Mohana.
Tapovan Lal turned to the Pramukh and spoke in an almost
pleading voice- “Forgive him Pramukh Ji. He’s young and doesn’t know what is
appropriate.”
“Father, there’s no need to beg…”- Mohana tried to interject
“Shut Up!”- said Tapovan Lal looking straight at his son.
“I will have to report this to the Prince.”- said the
Pramukh.
“Oh come on now Pramukh Ji. This is a small issue and can be
resolved here itself.”- Tapovan Lal tried to plead.
The Pramukh paid no heed. He immediately called his runner
boy and sent a note to the Prince. It was a tense two hours before they got the
Prince’s reply. The Pramukh read it out aloud for everyone.
“His Highness orders that you apologize immediately to the
guard whom you manhandled.”
Mohana was brought in front of the guard. He looked at his
father who signalled with his eyes that he should comply. The heat of
humiliation was washing over him. He grudgingly accepted his position and let
out a mellow-“sorry” looking in the direction of the guard.
The Pramukh nodded his head in approval. He then spoke again
and said- “His highness also orders that Lord Mohana’s bow be broken in to
two.”
The head guard stepped up and pulled the bow from Mohana’s shoulders.
He then lifted his knee and broke the bow by pushing it against his thigh.
Mohana looked distraught. It was his favorite bow. He had no
time to even process the Prince’s second set of orders before the deed was
done.
Tapovan Lal looked at his son
and felt his humiliation. He promised himself that there would be revenge.
(In the story)
Their nightly sojourns continued for some time. She loved
the romance and intimacy. She loved loving him and she longed to be his
forever.
He wanted to ask for her hand right away but she told him to
be patient. She knew what her family thought of the Maheshas and the recent
episode with Mohana had only fuelled their hatred.
Somewhere she felt guilty of falling in love with Vikraman
of all people. She knew there was no way her parents would approve of the union.
She felt helpless and desperate.
Vikraman didn’t understand her delaying. She
explained it by saying that she wanted her brother to find an alliance first as
he was older. She knew he didn’t buy it
and he was smart enough to guess that there was something else to it but he
agreed nevertheless.
(In the story)
It was well past midnight. She came back to the palace after
meeting with Vikraman. She tiptoed her way across the halls. She reached her
room and opened the door. She walked in and was careful to close the door
quietly behind her. She turned around and was startled as she found her brother
Mohana sitting on the couch next to her bedside.
The yellow light from the candle placed on the bedside table
shone on his face. He sat there dressed in royal attire with a dagger hanging
from his hips and a chillum in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot red. He had
noticed her enter the room but didn’t flinch. He took a long drag from his
chillum and let the smoke out. He then began to laugh, a wild drug induced evil
laugh.
Even in normal times he was weird and difficult to read but
his appearance and manner at this time sent shivers down her spine. She had her
heart in her mouth.
He kept looking straight and laughing. There was a slight
breeze outside and the curtains made a flapping sound as they swayed, making
her more aware of the loneliness of her situation. Her mouth went dry because
of fear. He, however, didn’t seem bothered by the uncomfortableness of the situation.
That only added to her anxiousness.
After a while he broke from his laughter and said- “We know
where you’ve been and who you’ve been meeting.” He spoke straight without even
looking in her direction. She felt hysterical. She felt certain that she was
going to be punished for her crime then and there.
He got up, arranged his turban and turned to look at her. His
eyes shone like red rubies. There was anger and resentment in his manner.
“You will put an end to your
nightly sojourns immediately.”-his tone indicated it as a warning.
He paused and looked in to her
eyes. He suddenly broke in to a sly smile and continued on in a quietly
confident tone - “You won’t need to. He won’t be there waiting for you from tomorrow
on.”
He turned around and left the
room. She stared after him as he exited. Her heart began beating wildly at the
implications of his last words.
(In the story)
Vikraman had just got back to his chambers. He placed his
sword on the table and was taking off his clothes when he felt a slight breeze
on his body. He looked around and he noticed the tent flap was open. It was
strange because he remembered shutting it.
He took his candle and placed it on his bedside table. He
then got in to bed and covered himself in his blanket. He was almost asleep
when he heard a small sound.
He got up startled. He looked around his room and all was
quiet. Still he had the intuitive feeling that something was amiss. He slowly
lay back down in his bed and shut his eyes. He counted five in his head before
opening them again when he saw a man dressed in black wielding a sword right
above his head.
Vikraman slid from the bed just as the sword was coming
down. He then pushed against the man and ran to his sword. The man lost balance
momentarily but quickly regained it. He chased after Vikraman. He placed
himself between Vikraman and the table and pointed the sword at the prince. He
swung his hand to land a blow on the prince when Vikraman managed to place
himself just behind one of the poles holding the tent up.
The man swung again at Vikraman but before he could land a
blow he felt an arrow pierce his chest. He let out a bellow of pain as he
looked at the end of the arrow jutting out from under him. He somehow tried to
find reserve energy and swing again but another arrow landed in his shoulder.
He dropped down bleeding profusely.
Vikraman looked around. One of his bodyguards was in the room
and had shot the arrows. The other bodyguards soon filled out the room. The
chief guard came to him and enquired if everything was all right. Vikraman was
furious.
“How did this assassin get in to my tent?”- He growled.
********************************************************************************
(In the story)
It was morning and Mohini had spent a restless anxious night.
She knew that Vikraman was in danger and wanted to somehow get word to him in
time. She was worried that it was already too late.
She could hear the buzz of noises outside her room. Suddenly
the low dim noises from the palace were broken by loud blowing horns. Mohini
dashed out to her window to look outside. The Vijaya army was marching in
formation. Right up front, dressed in battle armour and riding his horse, was
Vikraman.
She felt a flood of relief the moment she saw him. She saw
them enter the palace gates and then she quickly got dressed and went down to
meet him.
She could sense the tension as she entered the main
compound. Her father and brother stood
isolated before Vikraman’s horse. The guards had encircled them. Vikraman’s
body guards stood on either side of him. She found her mother and younger
sister settled in one corner and quickly joined them. After a long while the
Prince spoke.
“Tapovan Lal, you are hereby accused of hiring an assassin
to murder me.”- Vikraman bellowed.
The whole palace went silent. Mohini could feel her veins go
numb. She looked at her mother and sister and they looked equally desperate.
Tapovan Lal stood there in the centre of his courtyard
staring at the young prince. He looked back toward his son Mohana and then
again at the young prince.
“Your highness I deny these accusations.”- He said.
Vikraman stared at the Zamindar and then signalled for
something to be brought forward. A pair of guards stepped forward holding a
very badly injured man in chains between them. They placed him just to the side
of Tapovan and Mohana. His face was swollen up badly.
“This is the man who tried to murder me last night.
Prisoner, under whose orders did you try to kill me?”
The prisoner looked down and away. The prince looked at his
chief body guard and nodded. The chief stepped up and held the man by his
shoulder which was heavily bandaged. The man let out a loud moan. The chief
then turned him around and kicked him in the chest. The man went flying in the
air and fell on his back. He was screaming in agony. The chief showed no
sympathy and lifted him again by the shoulder. Tears were flowing from the
man’s face. The chief turned him around to face Vikraman.
Mohini was sad and repulsed by the violence. She could feel
her sister hug her tightly in fear.
“Prisoner, I ask you again, under whose orders did you to
try to kill me?”- bellowed Vikraman.
The prisoner looked towards the pair of Tapovan and Mohana
and then turned towards Vikraman.
“Lord Mohana gave me the orders to kill you.”
Vikraman looked towards the father and son. Their faces had
turned white in fear.
“Tapovan Lal, you’ve broken the rules which I’d set out for
you. You and your son have committed treason. The punishment as mentioned
earlier is death for your entire family.”
Mohini was shocked by what she just heard. Her sister
clenched her tightly and her mother was leaning against her for support. She
looked towards Vikraman trying to make eye contact with him but he didn’t look
in her direction at all.
“However, I am going to spare your wife and daughters. You
and your son will meet your end tonight when the moon enters the third
quadrant.”
He then nodded to his chief who immediately ordered his men
to chain Tapovan and Mohana. Mohini couldn’t believe what was happening. She
disengaged from her sister’s grip and ran towards Vikraman while he was just
turning around his horse. His guards blocked her path and so she screamed to
get his attention.
He turned around and looked at her. They gazed in to each
other’s eyes.
“Please Vikraman, for my sake, forgive them. They will do
you no harm.”
Vikraman turned his face down.
“Please, they are my father and brother. If you love me,
please forgive them.”
There was a silence at the revelation. Mohini could see the
pain in Vikraman’s face. He tried to get a grip of himself. He turned to her
and spoke.
“I have already spared the life of your mother, your sister
and yourself. This is a crime against the crown. It cannot go unpunished.”
“Then kill me. Spare my father and brother.”- She replied.
“Mohini, you will…”
“You need justice don’t you? Take my life. Spare my father
and brother.”
Vikraman looked at her in desperation. He then turned toward
his chief and spoke.
“Please escort the ladies of the Zamindari inside the palace
and meet me back with the prisoners in our camp.”
He kicked his heels against his
horse and galloped away from the palace leaving Mohini staring at the trails of
dust he had left behind.
(In the story)
Vikraman walked away from the camp. He found a place in the
open and lay on his back staring out in to the sky. He was experiencing
conflicting emotions of anger, resentment and pain. He was in pain, a lot of
pain.
He found himself thinking about his mother. He longed for
the times when she held him close to her chest and would mouth words of love
and console him.
His father had forgiven his uncle who had rebelled. Only his
uncle repaid the mercy shown by rebelling again. His father and he were out
hunting when the coup took place. His uncle took his mother prisoner and
executed her that night.
From then on he had learnt from his father King Ananda to
show no mercy. Mohini would never understand that this was the way of the world
and required by ‘Raj Dharma’.
He knew she would never forgive
him. He knew if he carried on the executions that he would lose her forever. He
couldn’t bear the thought of losing Mohini and could feel the tears well up in
his eyes. He rubbed his eye lids with his fingers, got up and slowly made his
way back to the camp.
Mohini sat quietly in her room looking out the window. Her
mother and sister were sobbing uncontrollably on one side.
She couldn’t believe the agony that Vikraman was putting her
family through. She felt hurt and confused. She felt guilty and responsible for
bringing this on her family. She looked out in to the horizon and let out a
deep breath. Suddenly she felt her eyes well up and the tears came over-flowing.
It was time for the executions. Tapovan Lal and Mohana were
brought to the make shift field in chains. Executioners stood on either side of
them with sharpened blades.
Vikraman walked in and took in the whole scene. He then
walked to the podium that had been raised for him. He climbed it up and looked
at the father and son. The Pramukh was there waiting just below the
podium.
“Tapovan Lal!”
The Zamindar looked towards the prince.
“You will not die today.”
There was shock and suddenly there were murmurs everywhere
as everyone was trying to understand what the hell was going on. The Pramukh
jumped on to the podium and spoke to the prince.
“Your majesty, what is going on?”
“I’m letting them go.”
“Your majesty, this is not right.”
“Pramukh, I’ve always listened to your wise counsel. You
must allow me this transgression.”
“But your highness…”
“Chief, release the prisoners and have horses readied for
them. I would like to personally escort them back to their palace.”
The chief nodded his acknowledgment and immediately set
about ordering his men. Vikraman got down from the podium. The Pramukh held him
by his hand.
“But why your majesty? Why are you doing this?”-The Pramukh
enquired.
“Because, I love her Pramukh.
Because I love her.”
(In the story)
The palace gates opened and Tapovan Lal and Mohana rode in.
Tapovan’s wife and younger daughter couldn’t believe their eyes. They rushed to
greet their men.
The father and son got off their horses and the family got
together for hugs and kisses. Tapovan’s wife was in tears. Tapovan lovingly
wiped the tears and hugged his wife close.
Vikraman was observing the events unfold on horseback. He
looked around seeking Mohini but he couldn’t find her.
“Where is Mohini?”- Tapovan Lal enquired.
His wife turned around and called out for Mohini. There was
no response. A couple of maids ran up to Mohini’s chambers. They came back in a
short while and reported that she was nowhere to be found.
“How can that be?”- enquired Tapovan Lal worryingly.
Vikraman called the guards in the palace.
“Have you seen the princess?”
“No your highness, no one’s left the palace since the
morning.”
Vikraman and Tapovan Lal looked at each other. There was
worry in each other’s faces. Suddenly Vikraman knew where he would find her.
He turned his horse and rode straight for the hill. He
reached the foothills, left his horse there and made the rest of the climb on
foot. He reached the temple and looked around for her. He couldn’t find her. He
then made his way up to the ledge.
He reached the ledge but she was nowhere to be found. He
found himself thinking about the worst. He went to the edge of the ledge and
looked over. It was darkness. He couldn’t make anything out.
He looked out in to the dark night sky in desperation. He
closed his eyes for a moment and he could see her smile as she said that she
loved him. His breathing was heavy. He was overcome with worry. If she wasn’t
here he had no idea where to go out and look for her.
He turned around and he heard a swishing sound. Suddenly he
felt something pierce his heart. It was an arrow. He looked up from the
direction in which it had been shot.
She stood there with a bow in her hand looking at him. Her
eyes were cold. He looked at her and wanted to speak but the blood came rushing
from his throat and didn’t allow him to. He put his hand out to signal to her
but in his weakness all he was able to do was to point at her. She kept staring
at him. His vision was getting hazy and he was finding it difficult to keep
balance. His feet moved behind and before he realized it he fell from the
ledge.
The last thing he remembered
before hitting the ground was the way she smiled when she first told him that
she loved him.
(In the present)
She had just finished the story. She took a deep breath and
then looked out in to the horizon. I could sense the emotions flow through her.
She was in deep thought.
I reached for my laptop and took out two oranges. I tapped
her on the shoulder and she turned around. She looked at me and then saw the
orange in my hand. Then she smiled. This is my favourite smile of hers, the one
in which she both smiles and bites her lower lip.
We both peeled our oranges and started eating them.
“You know I would have let you speak before I killed you.”-
She said.
“Yeah right!”- I replied.
She jabbed me playfully in the gut with her elbow. We
finished eating our oranges and I was about to throw away my peel when she
picked it up from my hand and gave me a playful stern look. She then pulled out
a tissue from her purse, rolled the peels in it and put it back in her purse.
My princess doesn’t like to litter.
We then got up. She took the lead. But, instead of walking
down she started roaming around the place.
“So these are the pillars you’d written about?”- She said
pointing at the old ruins.
“Yes.”
“And this is where we had our first fight?”- She said
playfully.
We both laughed. I nodded my head.
“And that is the rock behind which you said you’d stashed
your loot?”- She said pointing at a random rock.
I looked in the direction where she pointed and I nodded.
She walked towards it. She turned around and playfully pretended to be wielding
a sword. I played along. She made a thrust and I fell to the floor.
“Talk to me, talk to me this time before you die.”- She said
in a completely outlandish tone.
I clutched my chest hard and said in a tone filled with
pain- “Can we go for a movie and dinner date on Saturday night?”
She looked at me with her forehead twitched and put her
hands on her hips.
“Oh and please don’t take my loot.”- I followed.
Her eyes brightened at that and she turned around and
playfully made to the rock. She bent down and then her expression changed.
Suddenly she jumped back almost startled.
I got up. She looked at me.
“What happened?”- I enquired.
She looked at me with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
“You did that on purpose didn’t you?”- She said.
“Did what?”
“Oh, so you have no idea what is written on that rock?”
“What?”
“My God! You’re not just a writer, you’re an actor too!”
“What are you talking about?”
“This one really surprised me.”
I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. So I went
over to the rock and looked. There was something written in an ancient
language. I had no way of reading it.
“What language is this?”
“You don’t know?”- She said mockingly.
“I’m serious. I have no idea.”
She sensed the seriousness in my tone. Suddenly her manner
became very different. She looked away holding her head and then looked at me
again.
“You really don’t know?”- She repeated almost desperately.
“You know, now you’re really freaking me out. What is
written there?”
“You don’t speak Kannada?”
“No, I don’t. You know that.”
She looked at me with an almost incredulous look on her
face.
“It’s Kannada. Ancient Kannada.”
“And what is written?”
She looked up at me and said- “Mohini will forever love
Vikraman.”
