Matali's Lament and the Conjuror (TETC - VII)

(...Continued)

"And how did you become so poor?" Pradha demanded.

"Mine is a tragic story, little girl, you shall not understand!" The old man smiled at her indulgently.

"Matali, I am 13, soon to turn 14, and that is certainly not young!" Pradha replied haughtily.

Matali laughed.

"My story is such, little Pradha, that not even really really old people can truly understand."

"Then if understanding is not due to age, maybe I could also understand! Please do tell me!"

Matali, shook his head - he was at a loss on how he was to fend off Pradha's curiosity.

"Pradha, have you ever had a doll that you wished for very badly, but you could not have it?"

"Oh...Matali!" Pradha exclaimed, "Did you lose your riches because you spent it on a woman? Was she a courtesan?"
After all, her mother had been a courtesan once, and Pradha understood these things as instinctively as she was comfortable talking about it.

"I wish it was that simple - a courtesan is easy to find and keep. My tale is much stranger, little Pradha." Matali sighed.

"Do tell me - I have all the time in the world today - my tutor is unable to come because he is ill!"

Matali was lost in a reverie, debating in his mind whether to recount his story or not - a story that he had never spoken of to another human.


Perhaps it is right that I tell the story to a child, Matali thought, For maybe only a child can understand what it is to yearn after a dream

Finally, he resolved in his mind and began telling his story, as Pradha listened intently.


Yes little Pradha. I was indeed a rich man once - very rich. There was nothing I could not have, when I wanted it - for I had inherited a large amount of wealth from my ancestors and I lived like a playboy.

My clothes were made from special cloth from persia and china, my perfumes were from Arabia, and in my populous harem, there were nubile women from exotic lands. They were my playthings, who I treated kindly and lavishly, that they could give me the pleasure that I desired and demanded.

Wine flowed like water when I celebrated with my friends, at the slightest excuse to celebrate. I was determined that no pleasure and beauty on earth should escape without me tasting it. Responsibilities, I had none - for I had loyal men to look after my estates, and I paid them handsomly for their loyalties.


"Ah...How wonderful it must be to live a life so rich!"


It only seems so, child. But strange are the ways of life - even the most thrilling of pleasures gets blunted after some time, and turns into merely a repetition, a dull activity that one indulges in for the lack of anything better

"I do not believe you, Matali! I am sure you say so only because you have no money left now" Pradha insisted.

Matali laughed.


You are honest, Pradha - I like that about you. And I hope that without losing your honesty, you will learn to be more diplomatic as you grow up too! But no, this is not a matter of sour grapes. It is the nature of desire that it grows blunt to what it gets easily and latches on to that which it cannot get.


"The story, Matali! It is not a philosophy class - please continue with your story!" Pradha protested.


Ah, you children, you have no time to listen to the wisdom of experience of elders. All you want is some exciting story! Matali complained affectionately.


"See Matali, my grandmother says that everyone learns differently from the same thing. So maybe if you tell me your story, I might learn something different from what you learnt!"

Matali nodded his head in agreement.


Indeed! That is quite possible! He said


"Then, do continue!" Pradha demanded with charming coquetry, feigning an imperial manner.

Matali bowed his head slightly with amusement, as he gave in to this demand by a child.


So, it happened that I had grown tired of all the things I could get easily. But yet my desire was not satisfied, and I longed for things which were exotic, for I imagined that they would bring me the pleasure that I once felt.

As you are aware Pradha, even if you are young, that for any man, the highest material pleasure is found in the arms of lovely women.

And so I had became a reckless connoisseur of women. I would spare no effort in bedding women that I took fancy to.

In my lust, I corrupted many. Many women, many relationships...

In order that I may enjoy all women, with my friends I even formed a group wherein we enjoyed each other's women, that our carnal thirsts be slaked. We would meet at my mansion with our women, and the women would all cast their kanchukis into a large bowl. Each man would blindly pick up a kanchuki from the bowl, and the woman to who it belonged would be his to enjoy for that week.

Thus, through such connivances, I was able to taste all forbidden fruits, and no man's wife or daughter or sister was safe from my eye. On two occasions, I had men assassinated when they stood between my acquisition of their women.
In my quest for pleasure and beauty, I was supremely focused - nothing was be allowed to stand in the way of my desire.

Yet, even this pleasure seemed to slowly fade, for there seemed no woman who could truly satisfy me - there was always something that was missing in every woman that I met, and hence I wanted to try something more.

Such was the state of my mind in my prime - I was dissatisfied with what was at my feet.

Then, a certain incidence happened, which inadvertently caused me to save the life of an old man who was extremely grateful to me for the same.

The old man told me that he used to be a mighty tantric conjuror once, and that in gratitude of saving his life, he wished to use his ancient art to grant me what I wished.

"I have everything that money can buy. I have no need for your gratitude" I told him, arrogantly.

"No, my lord", he said - "I cannot give you anything material. I am a conjuror - my art deals with ethereal manifestations and visions. I can show you locations of hidden treasures, I can show you what kind of fairies and demons lurk around us. Whatever you wish to perceive - I can show it to you! This is no mean boast, my lord. For, before I retired from my art, I was the greatest conjuror on earth, and when I say that I can show you anything that you wish to see, I mean it."

And then, as his manner made me believe him, a mischief took over my mind, O Pradha. I lament the day that I met that conjuror, and even though he warned me, I persisted in my folly.

"O old man, if so great is the power of your art, and if you are obliged to me on account of my saving your life, then I demand that you return the favor by showing me the woman who can satisfy me completely! Let her be in any corner of earth, and I shall attain her, if you can only show me where and how she is!"

At these words of mine, the conjuror laughed and then became thoughtful. Presently, he said, "O lord, you have saved the life of this old man, and you have stated your desire. I can, indeed, fulfill that desire in a certain manner, within the limitations of my art, but I shall warn you. This may not bring you further happiness. As your well-wisher, I suggest you do not go this way".

But I did not heed the old man's words, since my curiosity was piqued to its maximum, and finally he relented to grant me what I insisted upon.

"Today, before midnight, you must come to the top of the vetal-tekdi outside the city's northern gate. There, I shall await you that I may work my magic for fulfilling your demand" Thus saying, he took leave of me.

Accordingly, I reached vetal-tekdi before midnight, and found the conjuror awaiting me, having prepared the elaborate necessities of his rituals. He bid me to sit within a magical circle that he had inscribed upon the ground, with ornate and ancient symbols. Just before midnight, the old conjuror began his ritual with the sacrifice of a ram that he had brought with him. Catching the blood of the ram in a silver bowl, he sprinkled it around me and began to chant his spells in a tone that could have stricken terror in the heart of any mortal.

And with his devilish incantations, he managed to invoke strange powers, forces that filled the very air around us in a dark and sinister manner.

"Now, with your eyes closed, imagine, with your mind's eye, what your most ideal woman would look like - and hold that image steady in your thoughts. With my powers I shall find an equal of that image in this mortal world!" he instructed.

I tried my best, even though my imagination was not that strong to hold a mental image very steadily. The conjuror placed his hand over my head and chanted his mysterious incantations.

Finally, he commanded me to open my eyes "Now, behold, and tell me if you see the one you desire!"

In great excitement, I eagerly opened my eyes, to perceive a glowing smoke twirling in front of my eyes, in the air, as if it were the gateway to a strange world.

"I see blue smoke" I Said.

"And within it?"

"I see nothing except blue smoke, old man!" I cried.

Then, as mysteriously as the smoke had been conjured, it vanished, bringing back the reality of the hill on which I sat, within that magical circle.

I looked around frantically, to see something, but I saw nothing except the old conjuror standing before me, with a fallen face.

"It is what I was afraid of - a woman, such as you desire, does not exist on earth, who can satisfy you" He said, shaking his head sadly. "Perhaps it is for the best…"

I could not believe my ears. Furious, I leapt to my feet.

"You false conjuror! I saved your life, and you deceive me and waste my time with false promises?" I thundered.

"I do no deceive you, my lord. What I speak is the truth. Perhaps you might care to see something else, since the woman you desire does not even exist?" He tried to pacify me.

I pulled out my sword in anger. "I saved your life, and it belongs to me. Show me what I have demanded, or forfeit your life for your deceit! And may even your soul never find peace as you have practiced treachery on a man who has done you a good turn!"

The old man wept silently and then, having resolved something, he declared, "The woman does not exist and yet I can show her to you, yet remember that nothing can then stop what I set in motion - it can only go away when the energy that sustains it withers away. I cannot assure what will be the outcome of this"

"Do not anger me further old man. Prepare to die for your treachery!" I said, raising my sword.

Unafraid, the old man shook his head and then picked up a ceremonial dagger lying next to him.
Then he looked me in the eye sadly and said, "You have saved my life, and I will fulfill my promise to you - to grant you what you wish to see. With my very life force, shall I give form to your dream! May you be happy, my lord, and may you one day learn to love and trust people!"

Speaking thus, he chanted a mantra, and before I could react, he plunged the knife into his own heart with great resolve. A gush of blood spurted from the wound and splashed upon me like a water fountain, and he fell down and toppled over.
At the sudden shock of the warm sticky blood, I woke up from my half-crazed state. But all was ended - the old man lay dead in front of me.

After contemplating the absurdity and tragedy of what had happened, with only a slight tinge of remorse, I decided to go home and forget about the incident. I had little regard for life, in any case.

But when I turned to leave that accursed place, with a great shock I saw HER...


"Your woman? She had come alive?" Pradha asked excitedly.


Ah yes, she had materialized - but as a mere ethereal manifestation. In some confounded way the old man had caused a strange energy to manifest my deepest imagination, and to make it visible to myself.


"Oh, so it was a mere apparition, like a ghost?"


"Indeed. And may you never be haunted by a ghost such as the one that haunted me"


"What happened, Matali? Do not stop, tell me!" Pradha asked - completely intrigued.


I was delighted, to say the least. I tried to touch her, but my hand merely passed through her, and yet I could see her as real as you can see me now.

And she was, indeed, the most alluring woman that I could possibly imagine.

From that moment onwards, I was besotted with her, and she followed me everywhere, silently, and did all my bidding, though she could not have any effect on the material world, for she was made of ether. Nor could she speak, and yet she communicated with me, with her intangible form. There was only one thing she would not do - and that was to leave my side. And none, save myself, could not see her.

This ghost of my desires went everywhere that I went - there was no place where she did not follow me. She assumed expressions, postures, clothes that filled me with desire. For this ghost woman of my desires was not a dead beauty, but changed according to my desires.


"How wonderful and strange!" Pradha cried


It was also tormenting, for I had this woman who was perfection incarnate in beauty and she could not be touched, nor could she be heard.

Indeed - she was fashioned from the real depths of my imagination. She reminded me of everything that I had ever found wonderful in women in all of my life, and I was insanely in love with this apparition.

And those around me were sure that I had indeed gone insane. For, I could not ignore her in any way, and I constantly spoke to her and gestured to her, without any heed to what people would think of my behaviour.

People began to treat me like a madman, and started laughing at me, saying that I had finally contracted some disease through my philandering, which had affected my brain. I abandoned all my friends and women and worldly matters to only be with her, to drink her in with my sense of sight.

Lost in her, I did not know what went on around me, nor did I care. I locked myself up in my bedroom, and rarely came out - and lost all grip on reality.

Thus, as days and months and years passed, and I remained lost in her - till one day I noticed that her form had started changing.

She started appearing sad, and was losing her beauty. She looked as though someone had abused her, her divine body appeared full of bruises, as though some monster had cruelly beaten her. She seemed to become emaciated, starved.
I tried to ask her, but she only appeared to sadden further, and her beauty started diminishing - day by day, moment by moment.

I became desperate, for I thought that some evil ethereal entity had abused her and I wanted to help her, but I could not.

And one day, when I woke up in the morning and looked around for her, and I found her standing in front of me, her beauty melting away in front of my eyes, as I saw her skeleton and her bones gradually emerge. In great shock and frustration from my inability to prevent this, I began sobbing - I knew not how to help this woman.

"Who has done this to you, O beloved?" I cried out, tears flowing down my cheeks.

Then she looked up and pointed a finger at me, and with that final gesture, as strangely as she had entered my life, she disappeared and I never saw her again ever.


Pradha listened, spellbound.

Matali wept, and he wept with his entire being, and the kind Pradha's heart went out to this broken old man.

But she saw that there was nothing that could console him and she let his sadness flow, without attempting to stem it.

Then, after a while, Matali wiped his tears, and continued-


I do not know why she pointed at me, for all I wanted was to possess her and enjoy her beauty.

Perhaps she meant that I did not do enough to help her from whoever was doing this to her. Perhaps she asked me to save her. Whatever it was, I could not understand it, and her loss shook me entirely.

I became even more like a madman - for I wanted her again. I hunted for occult practitioners and sorcerers and conjurors and tantrics, to ask them to restore her to me, but to no avail. They merely asked for large sums of money, conducted false rituals and delivered nothing in return.

And gradually, as I came to my senses, I found out that in my dream I had lost all my wealth and reputation, that people considered me a madman. In addition, I could no longer find pleasure in anything that I did in my life. Everything beautiful vanished - it was as if with her going, something took away all the sense of beauty in my existence - leaving behind an empty shell with only hollow sadness...


"How terrible!" Pradha exclaimed, not knowing how to comfort Matali, whose tears were now flowing profusely down his aged cheeks.


The misery had only begun - all those who I had wronged earlier now took their turns at revenge upon me, and there were even many attempts on my life.

Undoubtedly, I deserved it, yet my punishment had already been meted out to me. I decided to escape incognito from my wretched existence with my life and never went back. I had lost all taste for life, and nothing seemed worthwhile - I only pined for the apparition to come back to me, to bring beauty in my life again.

Thus, I disappeared from public life, and obtained secret refuge as a mere servant at your grandmother's mansion - I had no desire to do anything, or to retain my high station in life.

She was kind to me, since in my days of wealth, I had showered thousands of gold coins upon her recklessly. Thus, now I live here incognito, performing menial jobs. All I need is my daily opium, so that I do not recall anything in the opium haze. I do not look at all the lovely women that serve your grandmother, for I have seen beauty that they can never touch, and I have now resigned myself to a life that is full of such misery, till I die.


"Matali, I hope you can find pleasure again, that the joy of your life comes back!" Pradha felt a sadness for Matali.


Ah, but it is too late now - it cannot happen. I have no hopes of meeting her in this world, for it is time for this old man to soon leave this miserable world. Perhaps, when I die I shall see her again, and then I shall be able to touch her, feel her in my arms - to feel happiness again!


Already, Matali was dreaming of the next life.

"But Matali, she does not exist! She does not even exist in the other world!"


Little Pradha, we do not know what can happen in the other world. Perhaps I can find that sorceror again. Perhaps God will create her for me! How could I imagine her if she really did not exist?"


Matali's Fulfilment


After that day, Pradha thought of Matali's story many times.

She learnt from others that what Matali had told of his previous life as a rich man was indeed true, as were the stories of him turning insane and then disappearing from public life.

Then, for a few years, Pradha was rarely in touch with her grandmother. She was away for a while, learning the 64 arts of a courtesan from a celebrated teacher who lived in another kingdom.
And in her studies, she forgot about Matali and his story.


But once, when she visited her grandmother, Pradha remembered the old man called Matali, and inquired after him of her grandmother.

"Maata-maha, do you recall, there used to be a man called Matali who worked with you as your servant, in the mansion?"

"Oh Pradha, he died two years ago - a very loyal servant he was, and such a strange death he had!" The grandmother shook her head at the sad memory.

"What happened, Maata-maha?" Pradha asked, curiously. The story that Matali had once told her came rushing back into her mind.


Apparently, in the year before he died, Matali had a lot of trouble moving around - his joints ached and he could barely move. Yet, he insisted on serving one of the old courtesans that had come to take refuge with Maata-maha.

(It was a custom among courtesans to take refuge with other courtesans in their old age, and it was considered a virtuous duty for every courtesan to support the older courtesans who had fallen on bad days)

Matali had become friends with this old lady, who was approaching the final stages of a disease. They both often chatted, and cared for each other. But then her disease started progressing steadily and her condition starting deteriorating.

Not caring for his own aches and troubles, Matali was diligent and caring in his attention to the old lady, and his devotion to her was remarkable. In spite of repeatedly being told by Maata-maha that he need not take the trouble, that other more able-bodied servants could take care of the old lady, he did not desist from caring for her personally.

He washed her body and bed-sores, tended to her medications, and even took care of her excretions when she could not move off the bed as her disease advanced. He did not leave her bedside unless it was absolutely necessary, and paid heed to her slightest need.
Indeed, his devotion to the diseased old lady was as remarkable and selfless as anyone had ever seen.

And one day, when he was about to lift her body to pick up the chamber pot, something came over him.

According to another woman who was present, he suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost, an apparition that stood in the corner of the room.

"It is you!", He cried.
"You are back! And you are beautiful again! So beautiful, so much more beautiful than you ever were!"

And he kept repeating that over and over again - "You are restored to me! My life is full again!"

The old lady did not know what to say, for she did not know what had come over Matali. Then Matali fell to his knees and wept, babbling incoherent words of happiness and gratitude and begging forgiveness, as though someone stood in front of him, someone who he knew once.

This went on for a few moments, and then, Matali just fell over and breathed his last breath - with an expression of utter peace and happiness on his face.


"Undoubtedly, he had been struck by the same insanity that had once come over him." Maata-maha declared.

"Such a strange insanity..." Pradha remarked, wondering at the story of Matali's death.

After some time, she asked again - "Do you think it is possible, Maata-maha, for a man to see his own imagination as a vision?"

"I have heard that it happens to some people. Perhaps that is what happened to Matali," Maata-maha said, "But what I do know, being a courtesan with experience, is that everyone only sees something from their imagination in another person. I have had many men claim love for me, and yet none really knew me for they merely were occupied with their own self, and what they saw was actually their own thoughts. So, yes, perhaps when someone is too occupied with themselves, perhaps they actually hallucinate. Some, to a smaller extent, and others to a greater extent".

"Do you think Matali saw something beautiful and real when he died?"Pradha asked.

"While serving a diseased old woman and carrying her chamber pot? That would be indeed a strange time and place to see beauty! I do not think it is likely. I think he just went insane again, from his debaucheries as a young man!" Maata-maha shrugged off the suggestion.

Pradha fell silent at these words, for only she knew of the story of Matali's life - and she wondered on many occasions, on what it could have been that had caused the return of beauty in Matali's life.

Perhaps, he was only insane. Perhaps, his story was a lie. None could say.

But perhaps, she thought, he may have finally seen the beauty that lay beyond external form.


(to be continued...)

The Grand Assembly (TETC - Part III)

(Kindly read the precursor - The Ecstasy of the Courtesan - Part II)


"The king is beginning to lose it. A conference to inquire into how to satisfy a woman??" Amatya Saravan exclaimed with great indignation.

"Are you serious?" Vidushak looked, with a feigned surprise that was lost on the Amatya.

"Here is the royal announcement -read of this folly yourself!" Amatya held out the scroll angrily

Vidushak took the proferred scroll from Amatya's hand and began to read it excitedly.

"Since when did a woman need to be satisfied?" Amatya Saravan raged, as he paced the chamber. "Since when has that become a matter of such importance that men hold conferences discussing it - real men with matters of great importance to look after?"

"Bravo!" Vidushak uttered, looking up, his face lit in amusement after reading the Royal announcement.

"Vidushak, this is no laughing matter- do not incite me further. This is wastage of precious and productive time."

"It must have something to do with that courtesan Pradha, who arrived three full-moons back at the royal court." Vidushak said, dreamily.

Amatya stopped and turned around. His voice was sharp.
"Did you know of this?"

"Respected Amatya, you should see Pradha - she is the most beautiful woman on earth. I assure you, you shall forget all about your lovely Alambhusha, the moment you set your eyes on her" The jester continued in his dreamy reverie, as if he was trying to recall Pradha's form from the depths of his loveliest memories.

"You knew about this, didn't you?" The Amatya was livid. "And you, you synchronised your visit to me to coincide with the delivery of the the letter, just so you could see my reaction!"

"No, no, Amatya, I assure you that I have been invited here by your respected wife, that she may hear of the latest gossip of the kingdom. And how could I not pay my respects to the great Amatya first?" Vidushak protested.

"Then kindly be on with your business, with your petty cunning. I am not in a mood to indulge you today - so please forgive me!" Amatya barked in anger.

"Indeed, sir! None would dare to displease you. May I ask a last question?" The jester quickly interjected.

"Ask, and then be gone"

"You are a known scholar as well as the Amatya of the might kingdom"

"What of it? Speak up, and be brief - I have no time for idle banter"

"Since you have maintained that there is no need for a woman to be satisfied, will be you be presenting your views at the conference, too?" The jester asked, looking cunningly at the Amatya's countenance.

Now Amatya's face turned truly dark with anger and he slowly turned towards Vidushak.

Vidushak bowed hastily, backing away, "I shall know your answer eventually, I suppose. Namaskar!" he said, as he made a quick getaway, before the Amatya's famous temper erupted in full force.

Amatya stood there, scowling angrily at the jester's retreating figure. It was almost possible to see fumes rising from his dignified head.


The Conference

The presiding Pandit rose, and gazed upon the assembly, gathered present in the large private hall. They were an odd assortment of individuals - each an exceptional individual in his own right. There were highly learned pandits, kshatriya warriors, administrators, artists, craftsmen, wrestlers, reputed casanovas, authors, poets, administrators, travelers, monks, courtesans...

Some were there out of sheer curiosity, some because the king had specifically requested for their presence.

"I call the conference to order", the presiding Pandit said.

"I thank you all for attending, on behalf of the king, and on behalf of the land that he looks after so well. We hope that with your participation, we will acquire some knowledge on this matter. The topic of the conference is certainly unusual, but our learned ancestors have declared that Kama is an integral part of life, and hence we regard the conference as an important contribution to the science of Kama."

There was a murmer of approval at this speech. There were plenty of participants from other kingdoms - chosen for their reputation or prowess in various fields.

A brief cheering was heard from the part of the hall where Vidushak was seated with his coterie. Vidushak, as usual, was determined to enjoy everything that happened with his usual pinch of salt.

Pandit-ji continued - "There are some here who will discuss, others who will speak. Then there are those who will only hear and not participate. All are welcome - for while this conference is closed - not open to public, each of you have been invited with a specific purpose in mind, by our beloved Maharaj who is a lover of knowledge and learning from all fields of life" The pandit gestured to the king who was seated among the invitees, without much paraphernalia to distinguish his royal status. He was primarily here also as a participant, rather than as a king.

"Without much ado, I invite our first speaker to speak - the respected Pandit Jagnath Shastri"

Pandit Jagnath Shastri rose to his feet. A very senior and learned scholar, he was known to be very close to the Amatya Saravan.

His voice was stern and crisp - his words held authority that came from arduous study of many subjects.

I have been told that in this conference there will be no opinion that shall not be respected, no matter what. Having been granted this assurance by the king, I shall say that the entire conference is a complete waste of time. Not only that, but that it may cause griovous harm in thelong run.

Firstly, it is of no concern to the kingdom on how to satisfy a woman - it is a personal matter, not social.

Secondly, it may be remembered that in the eyes of nature, a woman's satisfaction is immaterial. In order for proceation to happen and the species to propogate, it is only necessary that the man is satisfied. Thus, my stand is not contrary to what nature has designed. There is a reason for this wisdom of nature and we shall see what it is.

In far-away divine kingdoms like Misr (Egypt) there has been a tradition to perform surgical operations that a woman may never experience pleasure, and thus she never strays from her husband. And this is one of the most powerful kingdoms the world has seen.

It is a fact that a woman is the bearer of children, and in order to ensure the sanctity of the family, it is necessary to ensure her loyalty to her husband.

A man's disloyalty does not harm the family - indeed, a man may stray regularly outside the marital bond without damaging his family. But a woman forms the most critical component of the family - she directly bears the next generation. Thus, a woman's infidelity directly compromises the blood-line.

It is well known that a woman's capacity for pleasure is many times that of a man. There is no man born who can satisfy even a single woman if she desires more. Thus, if women were to enjoy the pleasure of kama, it is inevitable that they will want more and thus then be tempted to seek satisfaction outside of the bonds of matrimony.

Who then is to control the appetite of a lusty woman?

A known sage has said that the urge of kama is the most powerful of all human urges, and it renders a human incapable of rational thought. As the sun is my witness, I proclaim that there is none that can resist the temptation when it strikes.

So when a woman is encouraged to seek satisfaction - you directly affect society, and you directly weaken the bonds of matrimony - promoting licentious behaviour.

What I say is not meant to deny pleasure to women - I say, let things be the way they are.
Let society continue to condemn the woman who lusts, and to castigate the woman who glances at men in the manner that men glance at women.

Our society has a structure - and the very basis of that structure is the family.

Humans are not monogamous by nature - let there be no doubt on this aspect. Yet family has survived because traditionally women have turned a blind eye to the straying of man. If you awaken the fire within women, there is no power on earth which can save the family from complete destruction.
Do not play with fire - you have been warned.

Mark my words - if the day comes when woman's kama begins to be liberated, at the same time you shall see the breakdown of the institution of marriage!"

And with that, Shastri-ji sat down - leaving the assembly silent and stunned with his stunning oratory and prediction.
None dared clap, for none dared to approve or disapprove without knowing what others had to say.

Finally, the king, with everyone's eyes on him, raised his hands and began clapping. Others followed suit feebly.

"I respectfully do not agree with most of the things said by Shastri-ji. Yet, I applaud his conviction and his brutal honesty. What he says should be considered, as should everybody's words"

Tilottama, who had not joined in the herd-applause rose to her feet. All participantse fell silent immediately. Some, by her unexpected rising, others because they were left open-mouthed at her loveliness.

"If the honorable Pandit-ji and the King allows, I should like to speak next" She said.

Pandit-ji looked at the king, who seemed rather pleased with Tilottama's words.

"Certainly, you may!"

Tilottamma came a bit forward graciously, so that she faced the whole assembly. She was in her early forties - and as beautifully charming as she was when she was 18. She was the king's own confidante, the mistress of his youth, and now more his dear friend than a mistress.

Despite not being educated in the classics, she had such a sharp intellect that the biggest scholars considered her a worthy opponent in debate. Indeed, before she became the King's mistress, there were scholars who visited her only to hear her views on complex issues.

Her voice was as sonorous as it was firm.

I did not applaud Shastriji-s speech, for I was too impressed by his honesty, and I thank him for saying things that a lesser man would be afraid to say.

Such is the honesty we need in today's conference - that we may know why we do what we do.

Society is of concern to women as well as to men, and if society suffers because the Kama-shakti of the woman is awakened, then we should reconsider what we are doing.

For a moment let us consider true what Pandit-ji said. That our society may be based on the fidelity of women in spite of the infidelity of men. If so, then our social structure is based upon the suppression and exploitation of half of society. Is such a social structure worth maintaining?

I am a courtesan, and I am aware how hollow this institution of marriage is - so many men treat their wives as nothing more than nannies of their children and the respectable face of their family. Then, when unhappy with the fact that their wives do not appear beautiful any more and that they feel an emptiness in their relationships, they patronise a pretty courtesan while she is in the prime of her youth, or even visit prostitutes, or try to seduce the pretty wife of a neighbour.

Your children learn from you to treat the woman as a mere utility and continue it.

Sometime...this must end, if society is to be truly happy.
And I pray that the day comes when men grant women the same right that they presume to be theirs. In every relationship there are compromises and let these compromises happen out of love for the other, not because there is no choice.
I thank the king from the bottom of my heart, that true to the noble king he is, he has not shirked from considering the happiness of women"

Tilottama looked around her at the people who listened to her with rapt attention.

"And then I shall come to the point where the respected Shastri-ji spoke of women being unfaithful if their kama-shakti was awakened" she continued.

"You do your mothers and sisters and daughters a disservice when you imagine them to be nothing more than animals, who shall be unfaithful if they cannot obtain satisfaction from their men.

You do your men a disservice when you imagine that the only thing they have to offer their women is the pleasure of kama.

As a women bears the pain of childbirth out of love, so can the woman nurture her love only for the man she chooses. Perhaps men should be more confident, like real men, of retaining the love of their women.

I have nothing more to say"


And slowly, Tilottama retreated and bowing to the assembly, sat down on her seat.

This time, the applause in the hall was spontaneous and heartfelt.

As it was about to die down, Pandit Dinacharya, the oldest and most learned man there arose and began to speak, without asking for permission. Such was the respect and love that he commanded among all that he could do what he wanted and none could disapprove.
He spoke with heartfelt passion and with a wisdom that comes to those who have respected the truth all their lives.

The beautiful Tilottama has spoken truly.

No society that discourages the flowering of women can be a happy society, for a women represents everything that is beautiful in the life of a man!

The land of Misr indeed destroys the pleasure of its women through barbaric means such as surgery - I have heard this, too.

And you will see how that kingdom has fallen, since it adopted such a barbaric practise. It is not a mark of their development, but the mark of their downfall.

Indeed, our scriptures extoll us to look upon women as the adi-shakti, as the mother, as the goddess. And shame be upon us, if we ever seek to deprive the goddess of her joy - for then, we shall surely incur a downfall.

Let my words also be marked - this land shall rise when women are allowed to flower and if any period befalls it when the woman is mistreated, then that period shall be full of trauma and slavery for this land. I have seen many summers - many more than any of you here.

And with my experience, I say that this conference is one of the worthiest acts of our noble and far-sighted king.
My soul shall rest in peace knowing that the king is able to think of the happiness of our mothers and wives and daughters

Thus spoke the Pandit and before he could sit down, the jester jumped to his feet, clapping exuberantly.
"Bravo! Long live Pandit Dinacharya! Long live our King!!"

The assembly joined him in tumultous applause and nobody noticed Pandit Jagnath Shastri get up and leave the assembly in anger, muttering something about sycophancy under his breath.

The king rose to his feet and the assembly immediately quitened.

"This is a most marvellous beginning to this conference!" He said. " It is my wish, if the presiding Pandit-ji permits, that since the primary philosophy of the conference's motive has been established, and ratified by none other than Pandit Dinacharya himself - we should directly move on to the other respected speakers and debators, and learn from them how the Goddess may be satisfied."

The chief Pandit rose to his feet and declared, "The king speaks wisely. Let us then consider how each of you propose that the kama-shakti of a woman be liberated"


(to be continued...)

The Fifth Veda (The Ecstasy of the Courtesan - Part II)

(Kindly read the precursor - The Ecstasy of the Courtesan - Part I)


"Maata-maha, will you not tell me Amrapali's story?" The child asked, wide-eyed in excitement.

Her little body was buried cozily under the thick quilt, and her eyes were bright and open.

Her grandmother laughed. "And how many times have I told you the story already, Pradha?"

She loved to indulge little Pradha - her dearest grandchild born of her youngest daughter. And it had been many many months since Pradha had visited her grandmother in the city and heard her favorite bed-time stories from her.

"Again! Do tell me again! You did not tell me what happened at the dance festival!" Pradha sulked like the child she was.

"Of course I did" The grandmother protested congenially.

"But not till the end - you left the story halfway. And I have forgotten what you told already, Maata-maha! I am only a little child, don't you know?"

Maata-maha laughed at Pradha's coquettishness. The child had always captivated her - how she wished her mother would let the child stay with her. But then what mother liked her children to be away from herself? And indeed, Maata-maha knew that while her youngest daughter had fallen on bad days and lived in penury, she would never neglect Pradha's upbringing.

Maata-maha lowerd her voice conspiratorially and whispered into little Pradha's ears -
"Then you tell your mother to let you stay here with me, and I will tell you even more beautiful stories!"

The child sat up immediately, her face serious - "But Maata-maha, then who will take care of my mother? She is ill, and I must return to her tomorrow!"

Maata-maha's voice quivered slightly "Your mother can take care of herself. She will be well soon"

"Then I will ask her to let me stay with you after she is healthy again" Pradha declared.

"And till then you will stay with her?"

"Of course Maata-maha. She takes care of me and I must take care of her. She is my mother, isn't she?"

The grandmother's eyes suddenly brimmed with tears. She remembered her daughter Savitri's words, spoken so similarly, only a few years back...when she lived in prosperity and splendour.

At that time, Savitri had accepted the patronage of Karunak, a sethi who was so rich that he could afford to lend money to the king single-handedly to finance his expeditions.
Karunak loved Savitri dearly - he installed her in a splendid mansion, and bestowed every luxury she could ask for. And indeed, Savitri lived more fabulously than the queen herself. Her mansion was resplendent with maids and servants and tapestries and paintings and costly carpets and rare birds.

And it was said that never had any courtesan ever captivated such a wealthy patron so completely. Indeed, it was a fact that Karunak himself was also severely criticized by many for being so completely under the spell of a courtesan.

Karunak did not care much about this - he was immensely wealthy and could very well afford to do exactly what he wanted, without seeking anyone's sanction. He and Savitri were blissfully happy, with Savitri dedicating herself to the well-being and pleasures of her patron, entertaining him with the various arts that she was skilled in.

It all ended with a coup by the king's half-brother, while the king was away on an expedition.

The step-brother had bribed the king's personal physician thus having the king poisoned while he was about to enter battle the next day. The army was thrown in chaos, and meanwhile in the capital, the half-brother (supported by his maternal relatives) grabbed power and slaughtered the king's loyalists.

The details of the coup were gory, but in the end, while Karunak was spared, he was ruined utterly and could not take this sudden change in fortune. He came down with paralysis and could not get up and mend his affairs.

His relatives deserted him and none came to his aid.
After this great misfortune, even his wife abandoned him and returned to the house of her royal parents.
Why should I continue to live with a paralyzed man who loved a mere courtesan more than his wife? she asked.

Maata-maha remembered advising Savitri to look for another wealthy patron, too.

"It is the dharma of a courtesan to entertain people and to make sure that she always has a wealthy patron. It is no sin to search for a new patron, if an existing patron is unable to provide for a courtesan's upkeep", she declared.

"Maata-maha, I know we are courtesans. Yet nowhere is it said that a courtesan should abandon a patron when he falls on hard times. He loves me dearly and in his happy times he spared nothing to bring a smile on my face. If I were to abandon such a man when disaster strikes him, then in which afterworld shall I find place? Maata-maha, our caste is cursed…we courtesans are cursed with being without love all our lives. Do you wish me to give up this treasure that God has so generously bestowed upon me?"

And so, in her single-mindedness, Savitri sold her mansion that Karunak had bestowed upon her and purchased a much more humble dwelling in the neighbouring kingdom. There, she shifted her abode with Karunak and diligently took care of him with the money that she had gotten by selling her mansion.

Her daughter Pradha had been conceived just before Karunak's misfortune had struck, and Savitri took care of the paralyzed Karunak and their daughter, with the help of an aged and loyal servant.

Occasionally, she would visit Maata-maha with Pradha for a week, but she would always be in a hurry to get back to Karunak. Maata-maha respected her devotion to karunak, while she could not understand it.

This time, Savitri had sent her daughter to visit Maata-maha with the old servant. Maata-maha did find this strange, but was happy to spend time with Pradha. Maata-maha loved to teach her various things and never ceased to be amazed at the intelligence and spontaneity of this beautiful child. She wished Savitri would let Pradha stay with her, so that she could teach her the art of being a complete woman.

"Maata-maha, why are you crying?" Pradha demanded. "Are you crying because you have become old and cannot remember the story of Amrapali?"

"Who says I cannot remember the story?" Maata-maha adopted an indignant tone, quickly wiping off her tears. "And who has become old, you little brat? Can't you see how beautiful I still am?"

"Yes Maata-maha. Your beauty has not become old. But mother said that when people start crying without having a wound then it is because they have become a little bit old." Pradha answered boldly.

"Your mother has taught you nonsense. Have you not seen anyone cutting an onion?"

"But there are no onions here, Maata-maha."

"Perhaps you are the big smelly onion! Now, did you do your datoon after your dinner?"

"Yes I did, Maata-maha"

"And shame on you if you lie, because otherwise your teeth will never become as beautiful as those of Amrapali!" Maata-maha admonished.

"But I did, Maata-maha. And you are still not telling me the story of how Amrapali won the dancing competition" Pradha reminded her obstinately.

"Then don't keep interrupting me and I will tell you the story" Maata-maha declared, in a mock stern voice.

"Okay!", Pradha said quickly and put her finger on her lips, with her big mischievous eyes staring at Maata-maha.

Maata-maha laughed and patted Pradha's hair, as she began the story,

"So, they had invited Amrapali as one of the dancers to this dance contest. Lots of very beautiful and famous and skilled dancers had come from faraway kingdom. Three very learned pandits were chosen to be the judges of this contest."


The Fifth Veda composed by the Lord Brahma was the Veda of Abhinaya and Nritya (Theater).
A complete Veda on theater - The implication is that theater holds a position of divinity in Indic traditions - a position that is on par with all the other rituals and arts put together. It means that Indic traditions regarded theater as an important form of fulfillment and realization of the self. There are not many cultures where theater holds such a clearly venerated position.

So is the Mahadeva - the supreme God, the fountainhead of all knowledge, also shown as a Natraj - the king of actors. He blessed Bharat Muni to compose his famous Natya-Shastra (perhaps the most ancient and detailed literature on theater on earth).

Indeed, among the various forces that rule and direct the world, theater and entertainment are some of the most potent forces.
The Natya-shastra expounds on theater as a means of communication - how gestures and dance and body language can communicate things that the spoken word cannot.


The three Pandits, well versed in various arts and philosophies, were happy to preside over such a prestigious contest. In order to be fair to the performers, they drew lots on which dancer was to perform to what theme.

To the misfortune of the judges, the famed courtesan of Vaishali, - Amrapali was chosen to perform a dance that was performed by Menaka to seduce Vishwamitra.

They did not think much of it, and declared that Amrapali should take the stage to begin her performance.

Accordingly, the Sutradhaar announced Amrapali's name and the crowd suddenly fell silent.

A murmur of anticipation and awe rippled through their midst. She was, indeed, the most famous performer of the land, and a large number of the audience had traveled there from distant kingdoms only to see her.

And then the attendents parted the curtains, and amidst a gentle peal of music, Amrapali appeared.


Like a dream was she...

Clad in beauty
Unclad in beauty.

A marvelous dancer's dress with exquisite jewelry adorning her...
She looked like a veritable Goddess has descended upon earth.

Like a slow javelin that pierced the hearts of all watchers, she walked onto the stage.

In every aspect of beauty did she excel...

the beauty of her walk

the beauty of the way she threw her eyes

the proud angle of her chin

Her firm breasts swayed to her walk,
Her lovely hips gently moved from side to side at every step.

The world drew in a sigh, at her wonderousness.


Like a dream was she...


Two maids accompanied her, strewing petals in her path, and her ornamented feet fell upon the soft petals with an elegant grace.


Thus, she walked proudly to the center of the stage, and stood there like a marble statue that had been sculpted by God himself.

The audience came to their senses a bit and a judge got up.

"Welcome, O Devi!", said he, "We, the citizens of Ajinkyapuri, welcome your gracious presence!"

Amprapali turned herself in the direction of the judges and faced them.

Smiling at the judge who had spoken to her, she bowed low. Her hands folded together as she saluted the judges.

That gesture again sent javelins through the hearts of all present.

In that moment, seeing her sheer skill at body language, it dawned upon the judges that they beheld something truly exceptional - a kind of a once in a lifetime experience.

In the audience, someone murmered - " I swear by all that is holy to me...if she ever saluted me thus, in the next moment I would be willing to die contented, happy that I had seen everything in my life!"

The Pandit judge who was addressing her swallowed, and then gathering his wits, he said, "O devi, you shall be required to perform to the sutra - 'Menaka seduces Vishwamitra'.

The moment he spoke thus, he himself and the other judges realized, that it was a dangerous thing topic to ask her to perform to - for they may not be able to withstand the intensity of Amrapali's ability to seduce.

They quickly looked at each other, each communicating to the others the same realization.

And with this realization, there was also an eagerness to see her perform thus, for Amrapali inspired a great and mysterious longing in anyone who saw her.

In some the longing turned into awe, in some it turned to worship, and in others lust.


But what was about to happen was something that nobody had ever anticipated.


Having heard the topic of her performance revealed to her, Amrapali considered something intently.
Then having made up her mind, she walked up to the judges and standing boldly before them, spoke thus:

"Honorable judges, as per your wishes, I shall be the divine apsara Menaka. And if I am Menaka, I require one of you shall be the Vishwamitra that I dance for.
Indeed, Menaka does not dance for all - she dances for only the man she is to charm! So please be so kind as to nominate one of you"
Her voice was like a gentle stream that carved its own path through hard stones, with its enduring softness.

The judges were taken aback at this unusual request.

This time, the senior Pandit spoke -
"O Devi, why do you ask us to nominate someone? You may choose who you want, if that is how you wish to perform!"

"You would have been right, if Menaka had chosen Vishwamitra. She did not - she was commanded to seduce someone she never chose." Amrapali said respectfully, her head bowed in respect.

The Pandits looked at each other, nodding in assent.

The senior Pandit got up suddenly, his eyes twinkling with mischief, smiling broadly, and addressed her - "Devi Amrapali, to salute your beauty, I shall nominate the youngest among us - Pandit Mishra, and I hope he shall not refuse to be your Vishwamitra, in this scholarly performance!"

Pandit Mishra laughed an embarassed laugh, and said, "Truly you put me in a position of great danger, respected sir!"

"But of course, you have the right to refuse, Pandit-ji, if you fear anything!" The senior Pandit was more adamantly mischievous now, having caught his peer on the wrong foot.

"Oh, if you insist, I accept as long as I do not have to do anything!" Pandit Mishra stammered, trying to put up a brave face.

"Then here is your Vishwamitra!", the senior Pandit proclaimed to Amrapali in amusement, gesturing towards Pandit Mishra.

Everyone present laughed in great merriment at this interesting situation.

For, Pandit Mishra was known to be a very serious man, an avowed brahmachari. Hardly anyone had ever seen him laugh fully, and truly, he could have easily played the role of a real-life Vishwamitra with his own personality.

Pandit Mishra was also an erudite scholar, well conversant in the four vedas, and had composed many musical treatises. His knowledge, intelligence and erudition was revered in all four directions. A highly disciplined man, his intellect was as refined as an intellect could possibly be refined.

It was this renowned Pandit Mishra who now looked into the eyes of Amrapali, and a shock rippled through his body when he ran into her eyes looking into his own.

He swallowed and looked away, trying to feign a smile to hide his sudden nervousness. But he was forced, by an unknown power, to look back again at this courtesan who would now seduce him as Vishwamitra. He felt his knees weaken, and the stirrings of a passion that he thought he had subdued long ago.

This does not bode well for me, he said to himself.

Still looking into his eyes, Amrapali then moved backwards - slowly steppng back to the center of the stage. The two attendents retreated off the stage surreptitously.

Gently and melodiously, the musicians struck up the accompaniment to the performance and as the spectators strived eagerly to lap in every ounce of that divine performance, Amrapali started moving.


She danced a dance that was so sensuous and so focused upon Pandit Mishra that it left no doubt in anyone's mind that at the end of it Panditji's brahmacharya would be in great danger.

Never had anyone seen such grace, never could anyone imagine that it was possible for a woman to exude such allure from her entire being.

She twirled and gestured and seduced - with everything that she did, she hypnotized anyone who cast eyes upon her. Such was the power of her performance that they forgot to even draw their breaths.

As the song neared its ending, Amrapali made a graceful movement and ended the performance on her knees, at the feet of Pandit Mishra, looking into his eyes with an ardent appeal to satisfy her longing for him.

"Rati-daan dehi!"

She whispered softly, her hand resting on Pandit Mishra's trembling thigh, so that only he could hear her soft and ardent words.

The music ended and nobody moved.
Amrapali held her position, refusing to let go of his eyes - urging him to take her, compelling him to cast aside his panditya as Vishwamitra had, and to drown in her sensuality.

Pandit Mishra sat stunned - he did not know what to do.
His being screamed to him - to brush aside social propriety with abandon, to lift her up and carry her to a bed and to ravish her beauty with his body.

He came to his senses with the senior judge coughed to rouse him from the spell. Startled, Pandit Mishra looked at the other judges with a confused face.
Then they burst out laughing and Pandit Mishra was forced to join in with an embarassed laugh. He started clapping, in praise of the performance, to divert attention from himself, and everyone joined in.

Smiling gently, Amrapali rose to her feet with great elegance and moved back to the center of the stage to receive her applause.

There was no shred of doubt in anyone's mind who the winner of the dance contest was, even thought there were other worthy contestants to follow.

And so it was - Amrapali won the coveted place of the most accomplished practitioner of nritya-abhinaya.


"But Maata-maha, what happened to Pandit Mishra? Did he go to visit her later? Was he in love with her?" Pradha asked - her face awash with the excitement of the story.

Laughing at little Pradha's excitement, Maata-maha continued her tale....


Amrapali left the town the same night to go back to her city.

Meanwhile, Pandit Mishra underwent a complete transformation of his persona.

His transformation began with a sudden obsession with the feminine form and with sex. He stopped his pursuit of bookish knowledge and in an assembly of scholars, where he was to speak, he declared that the only truth in life was beauty and that all the panditya was meaningless in front of it. People shook their heads at this folly that had descended upon such a respected pandit.

It was rumored that he began visiting all the courtesans and other women renowned for their beauty in the town. They said he always came back disillusioned, shaking his head that none of them were anywhere close to being beautiful.


"But Maata-maha, why did he not go and visit Amrapali, if he had found her so beautiful?" Pradha asked.


He did, after he was disillusioned with all the courtesans in his own town. He sent an emissary to Amrapali, asking for an audience with her and she consented, even though he was not rich enough to afford being entertained by her.

Amrapali remembered the Pandit, of course.

After making the 4 day journey to her mansion, Pandit Mishra found himself escorted to the garden that was attached to it, after he had refreshed himself.

There, as he took a leisurely walk around the garden waiting for Amrapali to arrive, he admired the exquisite plants and flowers there.
The place was suffused with beauty, the birds that chirped there, the way the landscape was designed, and the intentness with which the gardener worked with the plants - cutting the weeds with a scythe.

To while his time, he decided to strike up a conversation with the gardener, who happened to be a lady in soiled gardner's clothes.

Nowhere as beautiful as her mistress, he told himself.

After exchanging pleasantries with the gardener, he queried her "When will your mistress arrive? Does she always come here at this time? Is she interested in horticulture, that she has created this beautiful garden with such rare species of plants?

The gardener lady smiled at these words and dropping her scythe, she stood up and turned to face andit Mishra, drawing herself to her full height.

"Have you forgotten me, Panditji? Did I leave so feeble an impression on you?"

Pandit Mishra staggered back at her words.

"Devi Amrapali? I am sorry, I did not recognize you in these gardener's clothes", he stammered.

"Respected sir, that is because the woman you saw the other day was not me. You saw Menaka, not Amrapali. And today you see a gardener again, not Amrapali." She said gently.

"Then what is truth, O devi?"

"What you see is what you carry within you, respected sir. I merely evoke it. But so often we forget that there is no beauty except what is within us."

Pandit Mishra stood motionless for a few minutes.

"I had come here believing that I shall find peace by meeting the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But having met you, I now see that my unrest is from within me, that I have not learnt much in spite of all my learning. I may have learnt the four vedas - and yet I see that you have drunk deeply of the fifth Veda composed by Lord Brahma himself. I thank you, O Devi, for opening my eyes. Kindly grant me leave now." Pandit Mishra said, his head bowed in respect - as though he stood in front of a superior scholar.

"My respects to you, O learned brahmin. May you find the peace that you seek".
Amrapali bowed to him with deep respect.

Pandit Mishra returned her salutation with clasped hands. Then, turning, he walked away.

No one heard more about the famed scholar Pandit Mishra anymore.

It is said that he accepted sanyaas after that, renouncing all material possessions, renouncing the title of Pandit, and attained self-realization, but that is only hearsay.

The only truth is that no one saw Pandit Mishra after that.


"It is such a beautiful story, Maata-maha. But I did not understand what Amrapali meant when she said that there is no beauty except what is within us. Is it not true that some things are more beautiful than others? If what she said was true, then would we not see beauty in all things instead of only some?"

"Now I have only told you the story as it happened. I do not know whether what Amrapali said was right or wrong.
And besides, it is time for you to sleep, and I have to see if all things have been wrapped up for the night" Maata-maha chided Pradha.

"Okay, Maata-maha" Pradha assented quickly. Her little mind was still savoring the story, and she did not mind running it over and over again in her mind, as she fell asleep.

Maata-maha kissed her granddaughter tenderly and tucked her in.


When she stepped out of the bedroom, an attendent eunuch who was waiting for her, approached her hurriedly.

"Maata-maha, an emissary has arrived with a letter from your daughter Savitri-devi!" The eunuch's tone was urgent and emotional.

Maata-maha raised her eyebrow in surprise.

"Bring him to the visitor's chamber, I shall be there"

When she reached the chamber, she was surprised to find Savitri's old servant there, weeping. Sobbing, the old servant raised her hands to Maata-maha, her trembling fingers holding out a letter.

With a sinking feeling of apprehension, Maata-maha took the proffered letter and began reading it.

As she read it, her body shook, and tears began to flow from her eyes.

Beloved Maata-maha, greetings.
You must forgive me for being silent about this and not telling you anything. I had to be silent, for if I revealed all to you then perhaps I would not have had the strength to do what was to be done.
A few months back I suffered from a strange coughing malady, which showed no signs of recovering. I consulted the Vaidya, and he diagnosed that I was in the final stages of a fatal disease. He assured me that I could live for, perhaps, an year more, but that I would be bed-ridden. Yet, my life is dedicated to taking care of Karunak. I could not be bed-ridden and still take care of him. And what would become of him when I could not take care of his daily needs?
That is why I took this hard decision - by the time you receive this letter, I have put an end to Karunak's life and my own. I could not let Karunak be humiliated by life further, after my own illness and death. So there was no other way out.
Over the years I have realized that I did not fully love Karunak - and yet I cared for him deeply. Like a mother, like a sister, like a daughter. Undoubtedly, he loved me more than his life, and it was his love and patronage that I could never let down.
But then a courtesan's life is such - even if she receives love, she should be grateful - for there are not many who can love with such abandon that they can look beyond the fact that their lover is a courtesan. I have received such love from Karunak, and for that I am eternally grateful. Hence, I did my duty by him - never letting him down, even in my death. I made sure that he always lived with the same dignity in poverty that he had seen in his prosperity.
O mother, I die contented, for I have had a good life, even though it has been full of ups and down. I am glad that Pradha is with you. She has not seen the life of a courtesan, except when she has visited you, and now it seems that her destiny shall be to follow the profession of her ancestors. I know you will take as good care of her as I would have - tell her that I loved her dearly, yet I had to leave because I was bound by my duty to my patron, spouse and master.
You may send someone to take care of our belongings - they are entrusted to the local sethi for safekeeping after my demise.
Goodbye, O mother - and I hope that I meet you again in another life and that I am able to fulfill my debt to you as a daughter then.

The letter fell from Maata-maha's hands and she started trembling, two attendants rushed up to her to support her. The old servant that had brought the letter began to sob and wail uncontrollably.

For a moment, it seemed like Maata-maha would collapse from her grief, but she was made of sterner stuff. She wiped off her tears and stood up straight, brushing aside her supporters with an affronted dignity.

With her face full of pain, she shuffled back to the sleeping chamber. As she walked, she felt the weight of her age, of all the things she had seen in life and how old her steps were.

She stood at the door, leaning on the door-frame and gazed at the sleeping Pradha, whose face was deeply content in sleep.

"O my innocent child Pradha!", Maata-maha murmered to herself,

"Your destiny has caught up with you...

Yet, we shall meet it boldly together - you shall never feel the want of anything. I shall teach you all that I know and prepare you to meet the world.

Sleep now, dear child...for we have a long way to go and we do not know what tomorrow holds for any of us."

(to be continued...)

The Ecstasy of the Courtesan - Part I

The King of the ancient and vast land was amused at hearing his old friend's story.

And also, the story intrigued him. He had never heard anything like it before.
It appealed to his inquisitive and adventurous nature.

And, not to mention, his sensual nature.

For he lived in the olden times, and this was no repressed society.
In this time and place, people were a joyous people who did not have qualms about sex and things related to sexuality. Which does not mean that they were licentious and without morals.

(I tell you this, for it is the common nature of society today to connect a free and happy sexuality with immorality. It is an incorrect view, for why should the given and take of pleasure be anything to be ashamed of, or anything evil?)

And hence, because the people of this time and kingdom did not turn pleasure into a sin, they enjoyed their world and so were happy.

This was also a time when the man-woman relationship had newly arrived to the phase of marriage. And since it was in the initial level of evolution, polygamy and polyandry still existed. (Perhaps, at a higher level of evolution, these may exist again? For, who knows where evolution may lead us?)

Even in many places in India in the ancient times, polyandry existed as a regular custom in some societies.
It is depicted in the heart of our ancient literature - in the Mahabharatan tales

(Keep this in mind that a society does not allow mythology to exist which does not represent their values. Some stories are preserved because they depict goodness, some because they depict stupidity or mistakes. Some have even been preserved with hidden messages. Kind of like reality.
Myth or sacred lore is history preserved with enhancements to suit the taste buds of the general populace, too.
Therefore, History is like a hindi movie - there is the seed of a reality, which is then moved and twisted and peppered or censored to suit popular taste buds. And yet, within this chaos, one can sometimes still glimpse the reality behind the history.

(The Nairs of the state of Kerala, for instance, like the Mahabharatan Pandavas, practised polyandry once, as a custom peculiar to their caste. I do not know if today's laws allow a Nair to follow the custom of his ancestors or not, or if a Nair even wishes to follow the custom. Perhaps the system does not even exist in any reasonable amount and is dying out. It might have started phasing out the moment Nairs stopped being warriors, for it was a social system designed to protect the women-folk of the Nair warriors.

It is reputed that the custom of polyandry among the Nairs was evolved to allow for the protection of the wives and their offsprings. Imagine, a caste so enlightened that it morphed its entire custom of marriage to ensure the protection of their woman! The much touted male ego and male possessiveness was completely set aside by this caste of brave and powerful warriors for the sake of the women-folk.

Ah, how shabby are today's concepts of marriage compared to this! Today's society does not seem to be so much in love with its women, when compared to these days of yore)

His eyes met his friend's and after a slight pause, both burst out laughing.

The friend, Virbhadra, was visiting him from the neighbouring kingdom, after a long time.
He was an important noble official in that kingdom. In relation, the friend's mother had been the favourite maid-friend of the king's mother. They had often played together as children, and had grown up to be very good friends, sharing among them all things serious, pleasurable, intellectual, stressful, ribald, sinful. They looked forward to seeing each other as and when their duties allowed them.

And today, Virbhadra was visiting the King, having arrived in the capital after a 4 day sojourn, with his party of 15 horsemen, 20 footsmen, and 35 tradesmen with their camels and horses.

In those days, travel between towns and cities and settlements was risky. Bandits and wild animals were prone to attacking travelers and ravaging them. Hence there were regular paid escorts available for those who could not pay. A nobleman with his own guards could often defray the cost of his intercity journey by allowing tradesmen and pilgrims to travel with them.
In addition, there were regular trade caravans that deployed their own guards to accompany them, and one could buy the privilege of travelling with such a caravan by paying the caravan financier. Almost like buying a bus ticket today.

"Yes! I kid you not, my friend!" Virbhadra said, laughing.
"She is truly insatiable! I enjoyed her myself, and I speak the truth. And never have I met a woman in bed who was like her. She is not a damp fish - she participates in the pleasure with great gusto: And yet, she is unsatisfied."

"And she demands her satisfaction, which she says she has never received from a man before! How can that be? Then her being in the sexual act must be a mere act, a pretense - her mind must be elsewhere. Some women are damp fish, yet good actresses, are there not, my friend?", the King said, thoughtfully, as he sipped of the rich wine from a golden goblet.

"Oh, come on, your majesty!" The friend protested. "You know very well that I can tell! Have I not always been accurate about women? How I could predict their exact taste in bed? Have you forgotten who we purchased in the the markets of Vijaynagar, dressed as commonors?"

The King burst out laughing, his eyes recalling fond memories.
"Yes it is true - you had pointed out the plainest looking woman from the lot. And it turned out to be the best - it turned out to be the exquisite Tilottama herself!"

"Oh, Tilottama! Where is she? Is she in the capital? It would be so lovely to see her again!" The friend cried.

"She is - I told her that you were arriving and she cancelled all her other plans, to be able to meet you. As always, she sends you her best wishes, and invites you tonight to the dance that she has organized in your honor."

"Excellent! And how is she, Your majesty? It has been so long - I often miss her, her gentle company - her talks, her wisdom!"

"And do not forget her skill in bed! You can revive your memories tonight, if she smiles upon you!"

"I will beg her, if need be! But before that, my friend, let us three have dinner. I miss our talks as much I miss her skillful body! Truly, yourself and Tilottama are closest to my heart at all times. I treasure our friendship vastly, more than anything in this world!" Virbhadra said, lost in fond memories.

"Do not start crying like a sentimental grandmother yet, Virbhadra!" the king rebuked him in a congenial manner. "The king of all chefs, the magical Paka-shasani has organized an excellent dinner for you! He has prepared all your favorite dishes! But, my friend, you may stop drooling now - we are getting sidetracked! You were telling me about this courtesan who cannot be satisfied!"

"Yes! So, I was telling you - she has had men skilled at the various arts of kama, and each has rated her as the best he has ever had in his life, and each has agreed that she does not fake her involvement in bed.
And here comes the interesting part now - I spent my first night with her a month back. And never have I been so pleased!
So, when I was drinking with her the next day, I asked her about how she liked the previous night, and she laughed at me, mocking my skill!
And she said - you broke your promise - you could not satisfy me!"

"Indeed?" The King was surprised at this turn of the story.

"And you know how I am - I said, by God, you randy woman, I shall have you satisfied! For my
word is my word, and I had said that you will be satisfied - I did not say that I shall do the
deed myself. But I shall stand by my word (as have all my ancestors) - and you will reach your satisfaction, and I will take the responsibility of finding you the man who can satisfy you!"

"Hahaha! How interesting! Tell me what happened next!" The King cried, his curiosity fully piqued now.

The friend paused to take a deep breath. Then he continued -

"After that, I introduced this woman to every skilled man she would approve of and arrange for their congress. And these were some of my friends who I knew were highly skilled. And none could move her, and each came to her her again and again, asking to be favored by at least one more night with her and she refused each! 'Do it the first time - there are no second chances with me', she said!

"What a woman!" The king cried his appreciation, clapping exuberantly.

"And she further adds that she will be the slave of the man who can satisfy her. And I asked her, in jest and yet also seriously - 'Should not that honor be mine, since I have taken the responsibility of obtaining your satisfaction?' "

"And what did she say?" The king asked, intrigued.

"She said - Do you have the right to own a woman that you cannot pleasure fully? I shall only belong to the one who shall satisfy me. And if it is through you that I meet the one who can satisfy me, then I shall consider bestowing rati-daan upon you regularly. But I cannot belong to someone who cannot satisfy me!"

"Ah! So that is why you are standing by your word!" The king chuckled. "You wish to have her in part, if not in whole! And all this effort for that? She is just a woman, like any other! You have your pick of women - why waste time over her?"

"My friend, your majesty, if you have her once, you will know why a man would be so eager to
have her again and again. She is intoxicating - if she has her exquisite thighs around you, you will
taste paradise in that moment!" The friend protested.

"Hmmm...and when may I taste this paradise that you speak of? I have not even seen her, this
wondrous woman that you speak of!"

"She is in the guest chamber right now, your majesty!" The friend said, a twinkle in his eye.

"She is here? You old mischievous dog!" The King was pleasantly surprised. The friend only smiled mischievously - he loved surprising his childhood friend.

"Let her be summoned with honor imediately" The King cried, turning to the room attendent, who signalled two others. They quickly trotted to the door and disappeared, eager to obey the bidding of their lord.

"But, tell me this - does not my sister-in-law mind your preoccupation with this woman? Arpita (you remember how strong-headed she is, of course) would have banned me entry into the women's quarters if I did what you did!" The king said, laughing.

"Vrishali is understanding, though she does keep hinting that she would be happier if I did not spend my time in this mission. Yet, I need to keep my word to Pradha - I owe it to my ancestors, to maintain the sanctity of my word!"

"That sounds very principled of you, my friend!" The king cried, with a hint of good-natured cynicism in his voice. He knew his friend's convenient principles regarding women well enough.

They sat quietly, sipping their wines, the silence in the room belying the King's eagerness to glimpse this woman.

Finally, they heard a movement and rising, they both turned towards the entrance.

Four doormen and six dasis escorted a lovely lady into the room.

The moment she strode confidently into the room, the King drew in his breath in amazement.

Indeed, he had seen very beautiful women, some of them even prettier than this woman. Yet,
what this woman carried in herself was something more powerful than any woman he had known before. She was as a goddess, her movements silently commanded all around her to obey her - and for a moment the king felt that it would enhance his own honour if she allowed him to even prostate himself in front of her.

She wore a lovely eka-vastra, with embroidery that was as exquisite as it was almost invisible.

Strangely, even if she was fully draped, one got a feeling that she stood naked. And this was not because the cloth was sheer - but rather because of the way she carried herself.



The King, who had tasted the best of women, who could have any woman in his kingdom that he desired, had an almost instant erection at the moment she looked into his eyes and for a moment he was disconcerted at this sexual shock and his discovery of his own vulnerability.

But he quickly recovered and regained his imperial posture as the beautiful courtesan Pradha walked up to him and bowed graciously.

As she rose, she again looked into his eyes and with a slight smile, she said -
"It is an honor to be at your majesty's service!"

Entranced by her beautiful face and almond-shaped eyes, the king absently clapped thrice and all attendents poured out of the chamber, leaving only the three of them, barring her single personal maid.

The king smiled now and surveryed her for a moment before he replied gracefully.

"O devi, the honor is entirely mine! It is not so often that my friend introduces me to such a supremely beautiful woman."

"The King is kind. I am sure he has introduced you to many, and you to him, your majesty. He is a lucky man to be your friend."

"He tells me a lot about you, O Devi! And I see that you are even more wondrous than he could
describe, even with his ornate tongue."

"I am glad that I please you, your majesty. And I hope I can continue to please you while staying in the limits of my vow"

"Vow? And what vow is this that limits your loyalty?" The king was surprised at this sudden reference to a vow.

So was his friend, who had obviously not heard anything about it, either.

"The vow does not limit my loyalty to you in any way, your majesty. The stars only foretell that I may lie with any man and he shall prosper. Yet, if I ever lie with any king, then the king may not remain a king for long. Also, my life shall be at stake if I ever lie with a king." The beautiful Pradha said softly, almost apologetically.

The king was at a loss for words. Never before had he met a woman who placed an obstacle in his attention to her.

"And yet, your majesty, if you so command, I am prepared to serve you in any fashion, disregarding my vow, if you would deign to have me, a lowly dasi of yours" she continued, humbly.

"Far be it from me to be the omen that brings a shadow upon you or this kingdom! Besides, I am under a vow of celibacy till the next vasant-ritu. So, you may consider yourself safe, O
beautiful one, and so should the noble citizens of this land!" the King said.

"But this is sad, indeed! You did not tell me about this vow!" cried the friend.

"Nor did you tell me that your friend was the very King of this mighty land!" replied the courtesan Pradha.

The friend shook his head sadly, dismayed that the King could not join in his full appreciation of this lovely woman. Since childhood, both friends had shared many women. It was a sport to them to recommend women to the other, and then to discuss their sensual talents. They were connoisseurs of feminity, of every aspect of the feminine charm.

There was a silence, and then Pradha suddenly stood straight, and raised both her arms.

Her maid stepped forward and undid her ekavastra knots.

Pradha's robe slipped down, caressing her smooth body as it fell and she stood naked in front of
the king, her hands still outstretched. Her jewelry shone most beautifully upon her skin,
and she was adorned in some of the most precious and loveliest of jewels and stones.
She seemed like a temple sculpture that had come alive, like a fantasy that had been made manifest by the creator himself.

Never had the king seen such a glorious vision.

"I am yours to have, your majesty, even if it may bring me death!" She declared, softly.

The king again drew his breath.

Pradha's posture was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Yet, he would not consider taking her. He knew that as the leader of his people, he could not spend the night with Pradha. For, if he could not satisfy her, then that would be a slight on his royal status and reputation. A king's status also depended on how much his people respected his prowess - in all fields.

Also, he knew that Pradha's story was probably not true. A shrewd statesman, the King
guessed the possibility that he probably did not suit her fancy, and that her story was a wonderfull way of saving them both face and embarassment. Diplomacy was a high art among the refined courtesans of that age.

And it was this possibility that impressed the King even more.
A woman who was not swayed by his stature into sleeping with him would be a very interesting woman, indeed. An exceptional woman, who would not allow any other factor to move her intent of reaching physical satisfaction, in the way that she best saw fit.

Or, the King thought, she was a woman who dared to play hard to get with a great king like
him. Either way - it was a bold strategy, worthy of respect.

The king had heard from his friend that she had risen from being an orphan, adopted by a poor courtesan, to being the most influential courtesan of the neighbouring kingdom at a surprisingly young age. Normally, it was the 60 or 70 year old courtesans who achieved political influence, through a lifelong effort at effective networking and knowing the right people in the kingdom.

(Interestingly, those who think of Courtesanship as a dirty profession, should firstly consider the difference between a courtesan and a prostitute. A prostitute has no choice of the men that she sleeps with. She is beholden to anyone who pays.

A courtesan has her pick of men.

She can choose who she wished to encourage, and reject those who she did not fancy. In all the men she may meet, she offers most of them entertainment, company and conversation. To very few, who may catch her desire, she may offer more. Either out of love, or for a regular retainer of her livelihood.

In truth, most respectable married women of today do not lead lives that are more virtuous than the life that a courtesan could lead, while being a good courtesan. She could, if she wanted, stay a virgin all her life, and yet make a handsome sum. She could choose to stay with any man that she thought appropriate. There are many instances of the Indian Ganikas (Courtesans) having had their own steady lifelong paramour, while they entertained other men in their havelis. Sexual gratification was one of the smallest things that a true courtesan was famous for - a Ganika was, in fact, one of the primary centers of society - she was in the perfect position of being a power-broker, or an agent of intrigue and conspiracy.
A Ganika could offer her services, in hosting a visiting foreign trader, and expedite a negotiation
with a local trader. All without offering any sexual favors.

Thus, a true courtesan may not have more than 2-3 lovers in her entire life - she could be patronized by only one lover throughout her life, who maintained her appropriately, and she would be loyal and faithful to him, while discontinuing to entertain other men, if he so desired.

Isn't that an interesting thought? In the very least, this thought is enough to raise the question of why the courtesan is generally thought of in a derogatory light by society. And a courtesan of genuine descent is vastly more talented in her entirity then ordinary women.
In terms of respectability, the courtesan is paramount (unlike a prostitute, who is not a respectable social entity). The courtesan is highly talented and trained in the arts from childhood. She is to know the creative arts, the art of making love, the art of conversation with men. She practises singing, drawing, painting and other skills from childhood, and thus she may become a famous entertainer in the process.

Do you know that some of the most famous of Indian performers/singers/artists are descended from a caste of courtesans in India, a caste that chooses not to publicize that they are a caste of courtesans? (More on this later...)

The king looked at the resplendent Pradha with a new respect.

He gestured to the maid imperiously, and the maid picked up the robe from the floor and
rewound it around her mistress's divine body.

"I welcome you to my kingdom!" the King said.

"I am honored to be here, O king" Pradha drew herself up proudly - "But you know why I am here - it is not to seek honor, but to seek the satisfaction that no man has been able to provide me with yet. I am a courtesan and I can satisfy any man alive. But fie on my life, if I do not meet the man who can give me my own satisfaction! Of what use is my skill and expertise if I do not glimpse the loveliest of pleasures that God has granted humans?"

"You shall have it!" The King granted, with a gracious gesture.

Pradha paused for a beat, before she replied, choosing her words carefully, with the precision of a mathematician.

"I shall not hold you to your word yet, your majesty. Do reconsider your promise, for it is easier to win a kingdom than it is to fulfill such a promise to Pradha!" She replied, her head held up with great dignity.

Startled, the king looked up at her.

Firstly, he was not used to someone asking him to reconsider something that he had said. Secondly, he also realized that by saying 'You shall have it!', he had inadvertently given her his word, which he was now obliged to keep. Pradha had converted his words into a direct promise and was now challenging his ability to keep it.

His people were reputed for keeping a promise that they gave - no matter how casually or
seriously.

He motioned for Pradha and his friend to sit, and they sat down on the dewans, facing each other. Pradha looked around at her environment, taking in its decor.

The King's personal meeting chamber was rich, and very tastefully decorated, with artifacts made by highly skilled craftsmen. The King was a man of sophisticated tastes. He could read and write in 6 tongues and his childhood had been spent in training in all royal arts of administration, diplomacy and negotiation. And his knowledge and power was tempered with a sound system of values, by the best teachers in the land.

The courtesan Pradha spoke again, her voice expressing humility to the silent King -
"I mean what I say with great respect, your majesty. There are people who know that I am here seeking to be satisfied in the conjugal bed. There will be those who will know it if I leave this kingdom without being satisfied. If that happens, the reputation of the men in your kingdom will be harmed - they will be the laughing stock of your neighbours!"

The King grew visibly irritated and leaned forward.

"Do you doubt the virility of us Rajputs? The world knows of our valor and manliness!" He cried, expressing a sense of having been insulted in some way.

Pradha hastened to reassure him - "I have no doubts about the bravery of the Rajputs, your majesty. There is none in this world who does not respect the Rajput sword. To tell the truth, Your majesty, my friend who returned from Roum last year has heard of tales of Rajput valour being told even in the courts of Roum".

The King looked into her eyes, as he relaxed back into his asana. Her words seemed to have
appeased him and his facial expression relaxed a bit. Certainly, he was proud of his people and his lineage, and it pleased him to hear that the kingdom was respected even in faraway lands.

He considered Pradha's face for sometime, while she looked back at him with confident eyes.
"Then why is it that you express a doubt in your words?" He demanded.

"Your majesty, on a battlefield - it is a warrior who fights, not a man. You know yourself that a well trained woman can be as good a warrior as any man. Was not your mother herself so skilled that she could singlehandedly hold off 5 swordsmen in her younger days?"

The king could not argue against this reference to his mother.
"It is true. Even in my queen's guard, there are women warriors who can fight better than some men in my army." He admitted, sheepishly.

"Therefore, your majesty, manliness cannot be measured only in the battlefield. A man's test
of manhood is also in the conjugal bed, bereft of clothes, bereft of all weapons, save what God gave him."

As he digested these words, the King's expression changed into one of joyous amusement.

"Excellent!" He cried. "You are a philosopher! We shall summon our court scholars, that they may have the pleasure of hearing of this path from you. We shall have excellent debates, and explore the matter. I wish to organize a meeting where foreign scholars and pandits shall attend, and they shall debate on these topics of kama-dharma that you suggest!"

Pradha smiled - "You are most kind, your majesty. You do realize that I am a mere courtesan
without a degree, and not an acharya or a pandit that can recite long verses in Sanskrit?"

"It matters not! Education is not proven by obtaining a degree from a university. Education is proven by the ability to think systematically and progressively, and I, the King, say that you, Pradha, are learned in what you know, in your area of expertise!"

"You make me blush, your Majesty!" Pradha said, bowing slightly to acknowledge the King's compliment.

Caught in his own enthusiasm, the King continued - "Besides, there is a need to create knowledge on kama, the art of making love and on the nature of masculinity and feminity. It is knowledge, and all knowledge is divine and to be respected!"

"I would be most delighted to confer with anyone you wished. And before that, your majesty, you must think about whether you will rely on the manliness of your subjects in bed, so as to stake the reputation of the kingdom on it!"

Pradha would have been an able negotiator in any matter of the highest importance.

The young king stood up imperiously - "If we Rajputs fall short in our virility, then we are prepared for consequences. We are warriors, and we do not step back once we are in battle. Either we shall win, or we shall die in the effort. There is no other outcome possible for a
warrior. So, in this test of the Rajput virility, we shall either win or we shall face the consequence of losing our claim to being manly and virile!" He thundered.

"Then I accept your word as binding, your majesty. I shall rest assured in the great King's
promise that my desire shall be fully satisfied during my stay in this glorious kingdom!" Pradha accepted graciously.

"It is settled, then! I shall declare this within my circle of trusted men. I shall declare that unless you are brought to ecstasy, we shall declare ourselves as lesser men, whose virility is debatable, that we are unworthy of having women!" The King cried.

Pradha rose to her feet, her face reflecting a respect for the King.

"You are a true warrior, your majesty," She said. "And if your subjects are anything like your royal highness, your majesty, then my confidence in your people is redoubled. For, it is the unmistakable mark of manliness to take on a worthy and righteous cause without heed for the consequence, to take it on without fear of failure!"

Pradha moved towards the king, whose face was now aglow in the zeal of his noble mission.

"I behold a real man in front of myself!"" Pradha whispered softly, bending a bit forward.

And as she spoke, she moved forward and boldly reached between his legs with a firm grip.

The king looked at her, stunned. His lingam exploded into a sudden rush of energy which flowed from this woman to him.

"How hard you are, your majesty! And how sad it is that I cannot have you and worship your
manhood with my humble body...", she said in the most seductive of voices that he had ever heard.

There was a moment of silence, as the king throbbed in her warm and lusty grip. He felt vulnerable and helpless, as if he had been caught unarmed in the middle of battle, a powerful warrior about to slay him.

Pradha gave a raw squeeze, before she released him and stepped back, still looking into his eyes, as the king stared back, hypnotized.

The friend, who was watching this exchange silently, suddenly burst out into laughter.

The king and the courtesan snapped out of their preoccupation with each other. The king looked at his friend, in a state of semi-shock, before he too burst out laughin sheepishly.

The beauteous courtesan smiled at both of them.

"If your majesty will allow me, I would now like to retire to my allotted chambers. It has been a
long journey, and I am sure you two old friends have a lot to talk about."

"Of course! Your designated dasi shall take you there" The king said, awkwardly, feeling like a child in the presence of a superior authority.

Bowing again, the courtesan Pradha stepped backwards towards the door, with her maid, and
still bowing, they exited the room.

The king continued gazing at the door even after Pradha left, lost in a state of reverie.

His friend stared at his reaction intently, an amused smile on his face.

"Is she not fabulous?" he said, softly.

The king came out of his reverie, and looked at him as if he had just seen a ghost

"In that one moment," he said, "this woman challenged me more than anyone ever has in my life..."

The friend patted him on his back, laughing softly.

"I know what you mean, my friend. Pradha is the supreme warrior. But I am sure you will rise to the occasion and face the challenge ably"

"Tomorrow...I shall begin searching for men who will satisfy this woman...the honor of my people is at stake..." The king said, dreamily.

(To be continued...)

The Silence of Love

There is a field beyond all notions of right and wrong.

Come, meet me there....

- Rumi, poet and mystic (1207-1273)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anguish! cried the eyes of the Emperor
A rage filled his entire being

A most terrible report he had heard...
the dark secret of his loveliest queen.

Signal us the instant he enters her chamber!
he had barked at the spy

They both shall know pain, he thought, enraged,
A pain that shall make them long for death!


And as the signal came
the Emperor seized his scimitar

and furiously strode towards the queen's chamber
his guards hastening to catch up with him

A maid hastened to step into his path -
Shall I inform the queen that your majesty is approaching?

Before she finished her words,
her head rolled off her shoulders

And the Emperor thundered on
without breaking his stride

his scimitar sheathed again
yet hungering for more blood

As the attendents saw him approach the queen's chamber
one ran within to inform the queen


As the emperor strode into her chamber
he saw the lovely queen standing still before him

Her head bowed

her hands folded

her body trembling

her breasts heaving

And the clasps of her blouse
half undone...almost revealing her soft breasts

I welcome the emperor! she said

Why trembles your voice, O Queen? calmly asked the Emperor,
his fury in restraint, till proven righteous

It would tremble, O my Lord, she said
for, I hastened to be presentable for thee

Her chamber was lovely and pleasant,
empty of all...save the both of them

And how may I serve my Lord? asked she
Is my Lord unhappy about something?

Forcing calm upon himself
the emperor smiled grimly at her

I wished to have your company, he said
I am your handmaiden to command, she said

And the Emperor spied a place where a man could hide
A tall brass cistern near the pool

A cistern used for heating water
when the queen wished to bathe


Calmly the Emperor turned to the lovely queen
and his mocking words filled her chamber

I wish to bathe, he said
Call the attendants, and heat the water!

Aghast, the queen stood
and the king stared back at her coldly

as he clapped his hands
and the attendants rushed in...


Silent, yet seething...the king gazed out of the window
and he heard the attendants pile wood under the cistern

He heard the match being lit
and the flames lap against the cistern

He waited till he heard the water boil...
yet no human sound came from within

The queen stood still silently

Her face immovable
hidden, her thoughts...
hidden, her feelings...

When the steam hissed from the cistern lid
the emperor turned to her

I have changed my mind, he said quietly,
his head bowed down in shame and confusion.
I shall retire to my chambers...

And he walked away, scimitar still sheathed
without looking back
furious at the lying spy

leaving behind a tall brass cistern
and sounds of bubbling, boiling water and hissing steam


The next night there was an accident

The news spread that the lovely queen had slipped
and fallen from the tall tower

The entire empire mourned her untimely death.

So young and lovely was she...
So full of life was she...
and so honorable was she...


A few days later was seen -
the tall cistern, at a metalsmith's shop

Having been sent there for melting,
something was wrong with it

and when the metalsmith climbed within to inspect it,
he found these strange words within

scrawled with great pain -

for your honour
for your love


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Notes

This is a story worded by myself, that I heard many years back.
It may be a folk tale, or a historical story.
And yet, I can almost hear the silence of the one who stood silent in the cistern as it boiled...so that the honor of his love stayed untainted...
I would welcome it if anyone could give me the original source of this tale.


Rejoinder

Apparently, the historical story involves Aurangzeb, the fanatical Mughal Emperor of India, discovering his daughter's affair with a lover of non-royal lineage.
Most probably, this daughter was Zeb-un-Nissa - a progressive Sufi poet. Her poetry was quite well famed, and her pen-name/nick was Makhfi ("the hidden one").
She was a sensual princess who had several love affairs with men as well as women.
Zeb-un-Nissa was only 21 years old, when Aurangzeb seized the throne from his father, Shah Jahan. She never married and had her own court, to which scholars and poets came. She established a library and had classical Arabic and Sanskrit texts translated into Persian. She also built numerous astronomical observatories, schools and sarais.
Being saturated with love, Zeb-un-Nissa eventually chose the path of Sufi devotion.
Here is a lovely poem by Zeb-un-Nissa, an ode to one of her female lovers -

No Muslim I,
But an idolater,
I bow before the image of my Love,
And worship Her.

No Brahman I,
My sacred thread
I cast away, for round my neck I wear
Her plaited hair instead.

The Flowers of Shiraz

(Worded by myself, this is a story from Indian Folk-lore, from the anecdotes of the Great Mughal King, Akbar (1542 - 1605), and his witty and wise minister, Birbal. While the Akbar-Birbal anecdotes are obviously amusing, they often contain marvelous nuggets of Wisdom. Birbal could deliver profound wisdom in the form of a most appropriate witticism pertinent to the situation)

The great Emperor of India, Akbar, was passing through a dense jungle one day with his entourage. Somehow, he got separated from the rest of the group and lost his way.

Being an intelligent man, Akbar managed to find his way to the nearest water body, from where he would see paths that obviously led to human habitations. Akbar was tired, and so he decided to rest a while under a tree, before he proceeded.

Akbar loved nature anyway, and he took this as an opportunity to commune with it.

As he was lazing in the cool shade of an affectionate tree, he noticed a beautiful and solitary Adivasi woman some distance away.
She was carrying a stack of hay and she appeared very very pregnant.
Akbar watched her carefully as she stopped under a tree, and hoisted her bundle of hay from her head.
Then she redistributed the hay into a kind of a bed, under the tree, and lay down on it.

Akbar watched from the distance, amazed, as the Adivasi woman proceeded to give birth to her baby.
She duly delivered the baby, cut off its umbilical cord with a sharp stone that she carried, washed the baby, and wrapped it in a piece of cloth. Then she calmly got up, groomed herself a bit and walked away with her baby towards her hamlet.

The emperor Akbar was extremely taken by unusual nature of what he had seen.

What a woman! He thought.
So robust, so healthy and so capable! She delivered alone, and made it seem like it was nothing more different from attending to a daily job of fetching water from the well!!

His mind went back to the time of the delivery of one of his queens, a few days back. The queen had had about 20 maids and attendents, 3 Hakims (one of who had specially been sent by her mother from her native kingdom), and after the delivery, the queen had taken 3 to 4 months to start actively moving about. Special medicines and oils and tonics had to be imported for her from farway lands.
And the case had been quite similar with all the pregnancies of his other queens.

As Akbar compared this Adivasi woman that he had just seen, with his own queens, he was filled with fury.

My queens are spoilt rotten, he thought. They have become weaklings, due to too much mollycoddling. Look at this Adivasi woman! Being without any luxuries, she was so strong and robust and that is how one should be. Being pandered to all the time, is exactly what has made them weak. But, Inshallah, I shall rectify this, as soon as I get back to the palace.

So, the Emperor Akbar got up immediately and mounted his horse, and quickly found his way back to his kingdom and palace.

When he arrived, he went to his chambers, and called the chief eunuch, who was in charge of the administration of the royal janan-khana (harem).
"From tomorrow", He instructed, "no more luxuries for the queens. No hot water. No expensive perfumes and maids and messeurs. I must not find any evidence of luxury in the janan-khana from tomorrow, or you shall pay for it with your head. My queens are women. They must live like other women.
They have become decadent and weak, on account of excessive luxuries, and, inshallah, this will change!"

The poor eunuch trembled in fear and doubled back to the janan-khana, and immediately ordered a complete stop to all the luxuries that a queen is accustomed to.

The queens of the Emperor were taken by surprise. They had all been born either in royal, noble or rich families and had never lived without the luxuries that they were used to. They hastened to enquire with the royal eunuch, as to why they were being denied their royal privileges.

"I cannot help it! The great Emperor has personally ordered me to stop all the luxuries, and if he finds any hint of the order being flouted, he will have my head cut off, as well of the one found using the luxury!" The eunuch said.

The queens were greatly dismayed and wondered what had caused the emperor to suddenly issue an order like this.
Being dutiful wives, they tried to adapt to their new lifestyle.

However, it was quite difficult for them and they found it extremely difficult to be as dignified as queens are needed to be, without their maids and toiletries and other conveniences. Even taking a bath was painful, as there was no hot water and no scented uttans!

In great desperation, the queens got together and appealed to the head queen to find a way to have their privileges and conveniences restored. However, she could not do anything because she was afraid of questioning the emperor's decision. Indeed, anyone would be as afraid to meddle in what the king had decreed.

They realized that they would need the help of somebody who could be trusted to speak to the king on their behalf and who the king favored. While the head-queen did not get along with Birbal too well (she wanted Birbal's job for her own brother), she realized that its was only Birbal who could pull this off.

So the queens invited Birbal, narrated their tragedy to him and petitioned him to help them.
As soon as Birbal heard about this development in the Janan-khana, Birbals's most excellent brain lit up in recognition of the problem. He was reminded of the King telling him about the Adivasi woman delivering her baby unaided, and he put two and two together.

"Do not worry, O respected queens!", he said. "The task you entrust me is risky, and might even cost me my life. But I shall do this for the happiness of the Janan-khana, and I hope you remember this service of mine, and make sure my family is taken care of, in case I die" Birbal knew how to get maximum mileage out of anything that he did.

The queens assured him that they would be obliged to him and his family, and then Birbal took their leave.

He immediately went over to the royal Mughal gardens, which were famed for their beauty and horticultural variety. It had hundreds of skilled gardeners, and exotic species of plants, trees and other flora from across the world.

The great emperor liked to stroll in the Mughal gardens every morning, before beginning his day.

Birbal summoned the head-gardener and gave him a few instructions. At first, the head-gardener trembled, at the thought of doing something as unusual as this, for he knew of the Emperor's fondness for exotic plants.
But Birbal assured him that the entire responsibility would be on his own head, and also told him that he would be richer by a few hundred gold coins, if the head-gardener helped out.

The head gardener finally relented and immediately started working on what Birbal had requested him to do.

.. .. .. .. .. ..

The next morning, Birbal joined the great Emperor Akbar in his morning stroll through the Mughal gardens.

"O great Shehenshah, have you seen the new plants that I ordered for your Highness last week from Shiraz in Persia?" Birbal asked respectfully.

"Indeed, I have not! Plants from Shiraz! I must see them immediately - The most beautiful flowers bloom in Shiraz! They must be taken good care of! Lead me to them, Birbal - I was not aware that you were so fond of gardening!" said the Emperor, who was a connoisseur of all things beautiful.

"I am only learning, by being in your majesty's company" Birbal said, humbly, as he led the thrilled emperor to the Persian section of the garden.

"Here you are, O great Emperor!" Birbal said, "They seem to be a bit dry, but we are hoping that they will soon get accustomed to their new surroundings!"

Akbar was thunderstruck at seeing the plants that Birbal pointed at.

The plants seemed to be wilting, and were planted in the bare untilled ground, among other common weeds. They obviously did not seem to be receiving any special watering or fertilizers.

"What? What is this??" Akbar cried, "Why aren't these plants in special soil that they need? Why are they not being watered properly? They will die, if they are kept like this!"

"Your Highness, I beg your pardon. I think these plants will be fine! See those weeds next to them? Even they have not been watered but they are doing absolutely fine. And if the weeds can prosper without special soil, why should the Shiraz plants be given special treatment? Aren't they both simply plants created by the almighty?" Birbal protested.

"Tch, Tch!", the Emperor shook his head - "Is this what you have learnt by being with me? Birbal, these plants are special! They are not meant to just survive and prosper - they are meant to produce the most beautiful flowers on earth - they need special treatment to produce special flowers! How can you compare them to weeds? The Almighty intended them for different purposes, and hence they have different needs! How could you make such a big mistake, Birbal?"

"You Majesty, I am sorry - I thought that the royal specimens need not receive any treatment that was different from the Adivasi weeds!" Birbal said, carefully and quietly, without looking at the king, his head bowed down in humility.

At these words (especially on hearing the word "Adivasi") the Emperor Akbar suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked at Birbal for a while.

Birbal only stood silently with his head bowed low.

Finally, Akbar burst out laughing loudly.

"Birbal, you are one cunning man! Who put you up to this? I am impressed by your diplomacy!"

"Your majesty, I only care that the great emperor's plants are taken care of, and they look as happy and beautiful, as befits the plants of the great Emperor of India!" Birbal said humbly.

"Say no more, Birbal!" Said the great and tolerant Emperor of India, "I must thank you for your attention. Now, let us both make sure that the plants are given all the care that befits their function! Please call the gardener immediately and have this rectified!"


The next day, the privileges of the janan-khana were restored fully and the queens were highly grateful to Birbal, for this amazing feat of diplomacy.


.. atrakasya ..

.. .. .. .. .. ..


Glossary

Adivasis
The forest dwelling tribals of India are called Adivasis - a word meaning "the original dwellers". Some Adivasis jungle kingdoms of India, were very powerful once upon a time.

Mughal
The name of a dynasty of Islamic rulers of India - a dynasty that was started by the great Genghis Khan of Mongolia. The word Mughal derives from Mongol, and it was brought to India by Babur, who was a descendent of Genghis Khan. This dynasty was one of the most powerful rulers that India had. The rule of this dynasty was quite effective, though they neglected the adequate development of India's naval power, being a dynasty of desert warriors. It was this precise lacuna that enabled the British to enter India via the sea, and thus slowly and surely conquer it in the guise of merchants.

Hakim
A physician, who mostly practised Unani (greek) Medicine, or Herbal remedies.

Shiraz
A place in the Zagros Mountains (anciently known as Sagarathian mountains, before the Hellenization of Persian names), in erstwhile Persia.
Shiraz is traditionally famous for its flowers, carpets and wine. There is an ancient legend that all the flowers in Shiraz bloom on the same day.

Janan-Khana
Janan-Khana (women-quarters) were the quarters where the women-folk stayed. In those days, it was imperative for a king to have more than one wife, since royal marriages played a great role in cementing inter-kingdom alliances. In effect, by doing this, the king converted public inter-kingdom battles into battles that took place in only his bedroom.
Since there was an overabundance of women, there had to be special quarters for all of them, which made sure that they all had dwellings that befitted their stations, and the King could thus visit the quarters of any queen that he wished - in privacy, without drawing the attention of the other queens.
The royal women's quarters had to be always protected from scandals, and from the bloodlines from being usurped, no males were allowed into the janan-khana, and the sentries and managers were often eunuchs, who were extremely loyal, as well as physically powerful. There are various tales of these eunuch guards defending the lives of the queens at the cost of their own lives, when attacked by other kingdoms.

Uttan
An Uttan is an ancient indic equivalent of shower-gel. It is a paste of natural ingredients which is applied to the skin. It acts as an exfoliating agent as well as a natural restorer of the balance of oil and moisture in the skin.

Inshallah
A popular exclamation uttered by those professing the Islamic faith. It means - "If Allah wills so".
.. .. .. .. .. ..

The Betrayal

The Hall of the temple of Mitra was magnificent.

Wide and proportionate long steps led up to the Temple entrance, which had a beautiful stone altar of the God Mitra. Ritual sacrifices were routinely made at this altar in front of large crowds of devotees, by the priests of Mitra.

However, today there were no crowds.

The temple hall was being used for other purposes.

Two splendidly attired and armed royal escorts stood facing each other, on either sides of the path that led to the steps of the great temple hall of Mitra.

Strangely, there were also two teams of royal bodyguards standing next to the royal escorts, only closer to the steps of the temple. Their masters were within the great hall.

Normally, the bodyguards would be with the royal personages they were protecting, but this was an exception - their masters were in a highly confidential meeting.

No guards, no weapons could be admitted inside, and the entire hall had been carefully searched to make sure no intruders could enter the hall during the meeting, when the royal personages were unguarded and unarmed.
The sentries that usually stood near the entrances were standing some distance away from their regular posts- the meeting was too secretive to allow for the possibility of eavesdropping or overhearing.
Even the priests of Mitra had been instructed to not loiter around the temple hall today.

This was no ordinary meeting.

It was a meeting between the King of the empire and his rebellious first-born son - a meeting that would decide the future of the Empire.


The circumstances that had led to this critical meeting were complex, deeply woven into the fabric of the history of this land and, indeed, even into the history that affected most of mankind.

It was common knowledge that the King was one of the most powerful Ausuras that had lived.
A king that bore his inheritance proudly - loyal to his people, and loyal to the Ausura Priesthood.

It was with the support of the Ausura Priesthood, and with the might of his military prowess, that the great Ausura King had obtained his grand stature and elicited privileges from the priest of the P'tah.

And this benevolence of the P'tah priests towards an Ausura was remarkable in itself - a testimony to the might of the Ausura King, for it was well known that the Supreme priests of the P'tah openly favored the priesthood of the Daevas, and adopted a somewhat remote attitude towards the Ausuras.

The Daevas reveled in this partial treatment and never lost an opportunity to plot against the Ausuras, making sure that they were always vilified in the eyes of the supreme priesthood of the P'tah.

Especially, the leader of the Daevas, Shakra (who was the current Indra, or the leader of the Daevas) was ever on the guard for any potential competition that could take away his job.

The priesthood of the Daevas was the dominant one, and officially in charge of many affairs of the Empire of P'tah, supervised by the Supreme priesthood of the P'tah. Thus, the post of the Indra was held by Shakra subject to the approval of the priesthood of the P'tah - he could be replaced anytime he failed to perform satisfactorily, or if he displeased any powerful priest of the P'tah.

Hence Shakra considered it essential for his survival to nip any competition in the bud. To this end, he deployed many tricks, starting from deceit, murder, subversion, seduction via Apsaras, and if needed, open warfare. He also had many powerful senior figures in the Daeva hierarchy, whose help he could obtain by supplying them with his version of the truth.

For, while Indra was the political leader of the Daevas, he was by no means the most powerful Daeva. There were other much more powerful Daevas, like Lord Vishnu, Lord Rudra, etc., who did not want to be bothered with the day-to-day details of administration and only participated in important matters that they deemed necessary.
Often, Shakra leveraged their might to get rid of his enemies, under the guise of helping the cause of the Daevas.
Indeed, the current Indra, Shakra, was the perfect epitome of the conniving and corrupt political leader.

The Great Ausura King HK was one of the very few Ausuras of recent times that had been favored by the Priests of the P'tah. They had conferred various privileges upon him, thus causing great displeasure among the Daevas.

It was no secret that the priests of the Daevas and the priests of the Great Lord Ausura continually plotted against each other. It would not be wrong to say that they had gotten into a permanent state of warfare - whether openly or covertly.

Fortunately, they were subservient to the Priests of the great P'tah, and while the P'tah priests adopted a steady policy of non-interference in the continual quarrels of the Daevas and the Ausuras, they often stepped in when it suited their purpose of increasing or retaining their power. So long as the warfare of the Daevas and Ausuras did not happen in the geographical territory of the empire of the P'tah, they really did not care much.


The empire of the P'tah was considered as hallowed ground, ruled by an enormously complex hierarchy of priest-administrators (who were mostly Daevas and Daeva Priests) and other competent bureaucrats. All these personalities had been accorded divine status by the priesthood of the P'tah, and the common citizens of the land worshipped them as divinities.

Indeed, not only did these rulers consider themselves divine, but they had created an entire system of religious rituals and hierarchies which had produced the most type.

However, the power of the priesthood extended much beyond the geographical limits of the empire of the P'tah.
They operated temples in various other kingdoms, like franchises, and via them, they organized the kingships there, sanctified them and collected revenue for them via the temples.

These religious franchises were operated by separate groups of priests, who had their group of deities. Thus, there were Ausura temples, Daeva Temples, Mitraic temples, and so on. Each temple had their own set of deities, the origins of which were quite connected, since they had all originated from the temples of the P'tah, many millennia back.

However, today the various priesthoods were largely independent, and as has been said before, the paternal priesthood of the P'tah did not interfere in their functions so long as they received their share of the enormous temple revenues, and wielded indirect political clout in all those kingdoms.

Yet, as was bound to happen, the priesthoods of Daevas and Ausuras had begun to resent each other, and this had spiraled into a full-blown enmity. Even their followers quarreled among each other, for the priesthoods always worked in collaboration with the political powers of various kingdoms, and this gave them a military option to exercise.

The Daevas had, historically, managed to score over the Ausura priesthoods by obtaining greater recognition and privileges with the priests of the P'tah.
The biggest recognition that the P'tah priests could confer had been conferred upon the Daevas as a clan - the status of divinity.


However, in recent years, the star of the Ausura God had been on the rise, to the great displeasure of the Daevas, and in particular Shakra, the Indra of the Daevas who was jealous and highly insecure.

And so, Shakra martialled all the resources of the Daevas to bring about the downfall of the Ausuras.

Another open war between the Daevas and Ausuras was imminent, and it was essential to reduce the power of the Ausuras before the war began.

The great Ausura King HK was a firm devotee of the Ausura God and he was very well supported by the powerful priesthood of the Ausuras, who used their religious influence in various kingdoms to further his interests.

In retaliation, the Daevas had played another card. They had managed to make the first born son of the Ausura King sympathetic to their faction, by various fair and unfair means, right from his childhood. Thus, while the Ausura king HK could not be forced to abandon the Ausura priesthood, the Daevas had made sure that his first-born son would seek to align with the Daeva faction, whenever he came to power.

The Ausura King was, naturally, highly displeased at these inclinations of his first-born.

To side with the Daevas was to deny one's entire Ausura heritage and ancestry.
The Ausuras, while they were cousins of the Daevas, were a highly creative and ambitious clan. They worshipped the God Ausura, and had as their symbol, the outstretched wings of the falcon.


In the ancient world, the Ausuras were pioneers in the arts of healing, architecture, banking, engineering, trade, religion, and so on, and hence the Ausuras were self-dependent. In contrast, most of the Daevas were content to enjoy the privileged patronage of the priests of the P'tah and were becoming a steadily decadent clan.


And there was, of course, the political angle to it.

The Ausura king knew that he could not function without the support of the Ausura Priesthood, and the priests were pressurizing him to nominate someone else as the successor to the biggest kingdom of the Ausura world.


Finally, HK had promised the Ausura priests that if this meeting was not successful in persuading his first-born to embrace the Ausura cause, then he would bow to their wishes and nominate a successor that was loyal to the great Ausura God.

The Prince Prahlad had requested that the meeting be held at the chief temple of the God Mitra in the kingdom of HK.

The Mitra priesthood was known to be on good terms with both the warring factions of the Daevas and Ausuras, and the Ausuras trusted Mitra more than the Daevas. Indeed, the God Mitra was an Ausura God, but was acknowledged as a deity of the Daevas as well as the Ausuras.

Hence, the Ausura King HK had seen nothing untoward in meeting at a neutral place, as suggested by the Prince Prahlad.


It was in this celebrated temple Hall of the God Mitra that this meeting was taking place at this moment.



Inside the Hall, the great Ausura King HK reposed on a couch with golden ornate decorations facing his son, the Prince P.

There were the trustworthy Apsaras serving them, and the Head Apsara was the Ausura King's favorite. She had supervised the other two Apsaras in making sure that the meeting was well served and hospitable, with sumptuous wines and refreshments at hand.

The Prince Prahlad was seated with his head bowed in front of his father, waiting for the great Ausura to speak.

The King HK regarded him with great thought as he sipped wine from a golden cup.

Many thoughts ran through his mind.

What will be the future of my kingdom? Will there be anarchy? Will my children fight with each other to gain control of the kingdom, and split it into pieces and thus become weak? He wondered.

Taking a deep breath, HK kept the wine cup back on the side table, and rose from his couch.

The Prince Prahlad quickly tried to rise to show his respect, as well, but HK motioned for him to be seated, and he sat down again, with a bow.

With a silence that belied his impatience, HK paced about the sitting area. As he moved among the wide columns, under the tall ceiling, he began to speak, slowly but surely.

His words had the edge that proclaimed finality, an authority that comes from unlimited power. After all, he was the sovereign of the four directions, as far as the eye could see, and much beyond that.

His head bowed, the Prince P's entire attention was upon his father and his movements.

"It is my misfortune that I could not take personal attention in tutoring you on the art of ruling. There is a lot you have to learn"

"Yes, O Father", Prahlad said respectfully.

"Ruling is not merely about marching with armies, or having powerful alliances with other kingdoms. It is also about securing the loyalties of those who work with one, of those who can win people over."

"I hear, O Father. You are one of the greatest kings this world has known."

Indeed, HK was a wise king who was as learned as he was valorous in the battlefield.

"No king can rule without the support of his people, his ministers, his generals, his priests, his soldiers. It is folly to believe that a kingdom will accept a King that they do not love, and who does not declare loyalty to the Kingdom."

"But every citizen of your kingdom is loyal to you, O my Father. And I am no exception. You have my undying loyalty and love, as well."

"Love for me is not enough, O Prince, to be King. You have to win the loyalty of the people. If they do not trust you, you will not be able to rule. Do the people support you?"

"They would support me more, if the Ausura priests did not spread discontent about me, O father"

"And are you doing something that they may not like? Why do you believe they are hostile to you?"

"Because I want what is best for the kingdom, O father, whereas they only want to safeguard their priesthood, and their temples and the money that they earn by soothsaying and rituals and sacrifices. They are not concerned with the well-being of the people"
"It is the job of a Priest to do all this. Do the Daeva priests do anything different from this? Do they not copy Ausura rituals and steal the secrets of healing that were discovered by the Ausura priests?"

The Prince remained silent.

"The worship of Ausura is our heritage - the Ausura the wise Lord has chosen us to rule. But your heart has been turned away from our own heritage".

"You are being unkind to me, O Father. I see no separation between the Ausura and the Daevas. We are all children of the P'tah", said the Prince sullenly.

HK sighed and was silent for a while.

"I have advised you in the past," he continued, "but I have not seen you make efforts to win the loyalties of this kingdom. I do not see you abandoning those who wish to turn you away from your own heritage. I do not see you disavowing those who may harm the kingdom."

"O Father, you have my word. I will never have any relations with anyone who bears ill will towards the Kingdom". The Prince looked steadily at his father.

"But you do not see the deceit in those who advice you, O Prince!" HK snapped at the Prince, and the Prince immediately bowed his head, rebuked.

HK sighed in frustration.

"There is no more time", he said suddenly, with a finality, "The people cannot be kept waiting".

At this, the Prince looked up, surprised.

HK nodded and continued, "This is the last time that I ask you to reconsider your loyalties. After this, the successor to my throne will be chosen. I would like it to be you, who are my first born. Yet, I cannot allow someone loyal to the enemy to be King after me. You have to understand that you will not be able to rule if your loyalties are with the enemies of our people."

"Dear father! Those who you call your enemies are not your enemies - it is a lie told to you. I urge you, look at the facts", the Prince protested, "You are my father and everything that I am, is by your grace. Yet, I know that what you say is not said by you - it is said by the Ausura Priests"

Infuriated by the words of his son, HK stopped in his steps.

He turned to his son, his face red with anger and cried out - "You doubt my sovereignty, impudent fool? You, who draw your very breath, under this very protection? You insinuate that I do not know what I speak?"

Prahlad hastened to calm his father - "Who could doubt your power, your majesty? You are the most powerful Ausura till date - the only one to have been granted immortality in memory. Your enemies spend sleepless nights by the mere thought of having incurred your displeasure. Even the very Daevas venerate you, O my father. How could anyone doubt your power? Least of all, your own son, who has seen your power so closely!"

Saying so, Prahlad bowed with great humility in front of the Great Ausura.

HK's anger was somewhat pacified by these words. He stopped pacing and dropped heavily into his seat, facing his son.
His personal Apsara hastened to his side with a glass of wine, which he accepted without glancing at it.

They sat in silence for a while.

HK looked carefully at his son, who now sat with his head bowed down with respect to the great monarch. From 40 years, the Ausura king had had troubled relations with his son.

Today, the relations would either be cemented or broken permanently.



Prahlad continued - "Dear father, the Ausura priests lie to you. I say to you, your power will find its fullest appreciation only with the Daevas. Only the Daevas can confer upon us the trade rights that we seek from the priests of the P'tah. They hold the key to multiplying what we have"

HK flared up again with anger.
"Do not talk to me about the Daevas. They are liars and cheats. Their leader is a cowardly murderer who stabs one in the back"

"But have they not supported you in your claim for immortality, O my father? Did the Great lord P'tah not grant you Amaratva after the Daeva priests supported your claim?"

"It is no benevolence of theirs. I earned it by my sword. The Daevas had no option. Do you think they would support me for an instant if I did not possess the might that I possess? Do you think I cannot displace that murdering Shakra from his position in the blink of an eye, if I wanted to?"

"Dear father, I have never seen any evidence of Daevas being hostile to you or our kingdom. To the contrary, they have always proposed joining strengths"

"You, my son, do not understand politics - you have not been a ruler. Your mind has been corrupted by the Daeva priests. A tool - you are merely a tool for the Daevas to get to me. They do not bear any goodwill to you, nor to me. They are ones who have no loyalty but only their own good in mind. But, alas, you do not see their connivances"

"Dear Father, the Daevas have never sought to harm you. They have only made gestures of goodwill to you. Why this hatred of the Daevas?".

"Dear son, do I need to remind you of the treacherous history of the Daevas, and how they have always persecuted the Ausura people? Do I need to recount the thousand tricks of deceit that the Daevas have played upon the Ausuras? Do you not know how they plotted to keep immortality from being bestowed upon the Ausuras? Was not this right of Immortality which was earned by me, the right of every Ausura? They are parasites that have always preyed upon the Ausura might, and it is unfortunate that the great priests of the P'tah cannot see this."

"Yet they have never sought to harm you, your majesty. You cannot take acts against the Ausura priesthood personally"

"They would not dare to touch me. But do you forget how Shakra killed your Uncle?"

Prahlad took a deep breath. He had to complete this task that had been set in front of him by the Daeva priests. They had been very very categorical about what the implications of HK's refusal would be for Prahlad.

"Dear Father," He tried again, "the Ausura priests are powerless. Their temples have no revenues, their minds turn to petty politicking in their own kingdom. And the Ausura temples are no longer as powerful as the temples of the Daevas. It is only wise to ally with the strong ally, who can benefit us, instead of the Ausura Priests who ask us to fund their temples".

It was almost possible to see HK seethe in anger, but he controlled himself.
There was silence.

After a while, HK spoke. He spoke with a restraint that was remarkable, considering his famous temper.

"Understand this well, my son - I cannot allow my kingdom to align with the Daevas. My power comes from the might of the great Ausura. You underestimate the power of the Ausuras. We are the gifted ones, the ones chosen to rule the earth. Whatever knowledge the Daevas possess, they have stolen from us. The Daevas seem powerful only because of the patronage of the P'tah. But, we, the children of Lord Ausura the Wise, are fewer, but powerful and independent."

Reverence crept into the voice of HK as he continued. "To the great and wise Ausura, I owe everything - my immortality, my power and my happiness. My ancestors - your ancestors were of the Ausura lineage. How do you speak of giving up the inheritance of your ancestors and going over to the enemy of the Ausuras?"

"And, O my mighty father, are you also not aware that the Ausura priests have made several attempts upon my life? How could I reconcile with those who tried to kill me?"

"Dear Son, what proof do you have that it was the Ausura priests that tried to kill you? And even if it were so, what do you expect of the Ausura priests if you align with their enemy? Do you not expect them to consider the good of their own people? Do you expect them to applaud the fact that a Prince of the Kingdom is openly sympathetic to the Daevas?"

"Be that as it may, O father. I know that I would not be standing here if the Daeva priests had not saved me every single time. I owe my life to them"

HK shook his head sadly - "Do you understand, that if the Ausura priests had wanted to kill you, they could have easily done so anytime? I have looked into every one of these so-called attempts on your life. Tell me, how did you manage to escape every time? Do you not think it is too much of a miracle? Or do you believe the weak priests of the Daevas actually have the power of making magic?"

"I escaped because the spies of the Daevas found of the plot every single time and took precautions that I would not be harmed"

"And you really believe that it is possible to foil attempts at assassination every single time? Has it never struck you that the Daevas may themselves have planned such attempts and foiled them publicly to gain your sympathy?"

"That is a very unusual suggestion. What would they gain from such a plot, O father?"

"Your sympathy to the Daevas and your hatred of the Ausura priests, and even of myself, so that you turn to the Daevas and reject your own heritage. Can you not see that? Can you not see that if I or the Ausura priests wanted to kill you, it could be done anytime? It is a plot of the Daeva priests and you have fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Perhaps your teachers have not taught you the principles of Kuta-niti very well, that you do not recognize such ploys"

"That is what the Ausura Priests say, O mighty monarch. There is no substance to their allegations. How could the Daevas possibly conduct so many assassination attempts in your kingdom?"

"And if the Ausuras conducted them, how could you have survived? Do you think any assassination squad is so incompetent?"

"O Father, in your Kingdom, the fact is that there have been attempts upon my life and you are aware of them. Yet it saddens me that no conspirators have yet been found or punished. It saddens me that my own father did not take an interest in this matter"

"That is not true, O Prince. You are aware that you were given my own royal bodyguards. You know that two individuals who were suspected to be involved in the attempt were tortured and killed but we received no information. You have seen them impaled on stakes yourself. For two days and nights the stakes impaled them while my healers kept them alive, but no link was found".

The Prince stood silent, and the Ausura King continued

"Do not be misled by rumors spread by the treacherous Daeva priests! Their intention is very clear - to turn you away from the Ausura heritage. Beware of rumors spread by that cheating Shakra, My son. I cannot warn you enough of his treachery."

The Prince Prahlad shook his head and gave a hollow laugh.

"I do not know the answers to all questions, your majesty. All I know is that the Ausura priests, the same priests who you think so highly of, are against me and you are aware of it"

"That can be corrected, my son, if you do as I say. This is politics. If the Ausura priests are convinced of your good intentions, they will support you"

"Then being your own first-born is not enough, O father? Am I, the Prince, subservient to petty Priests who perform sorcery in dark rooms, and who are beholden to you for erecting their temples of magic?"

"Be careful!" HK snapped. "Be careful of the way you wag your tongue, young Prince! I am the King and my word is the truth. If I say something can be done, then it can be done. There is none in this kingdom who can dare to go against my word".

"And what is my status if I align with the Ausuras? Belonging to the Ausura faction does not give me the recognition of Immortality. Being your son is not sufficient"

HK laughed at hearing this insecurity of his first-born.

"So this is what you are worried about? The status of immortality? Do you think the P'tah conferred Immortality upon me because the Daevas were kind? No! I took what was mine - I earned it on my own, by the power of my mighty sword! And I am sad to see that you do not have the same confidence in your own might. Are you not a man who can shape his own future? Or have the Daevas so corrupted your mind that you have no faith left in your own strength?"

Prahlad was stung by these words. He replied hotly - "Your conditions were different. Even from my childhood, I have never been with the Ausura - how shall I expect the Ausura priests to support me? How shall I expect them to appeal to the P'tah to grant me the status of immortality?"

HK shook his head sadly.
"Am I not your father? Am I not alive yet? Dear Son, declare your allegiance to the great Ausura the Wise, and I shall make sure that the Ausura priests accept you. They shall pay homage to you in a magnificent sacrifice and compose gathas in your favour. I shall personally meet the priests of the P'tah and beseech them to bestow the status of immortality upon you".

"It will not be granted for a long, long time, O Father. And the Daevas have plenty of time to turn the minds of the priests of the P'tah. The Daevas are very powerful, O my father. There is no hope if we do not align with the Daevas. The power of the Ausura is on the wane"

HK stood up, trembling with anger.

"The Daevas are powerful? Where is their power? I am the Lord of the world. I command this world, and no trickery of the Daevas can subvert my might. Your mind is corrupted, influenced by the Daeva priests, who have made you weak, like a scared woman who suspects everything. Do you not see that you are only being used by the Daevas who wish to subvert the power of the Ausura? You have become a mere tool of the Daevas!"

Prahlad stood up, trembling, to face his furious father. He spoke now, not with anger, with the desperation of someone who is faced with a choice of life or death.
"O my father, I beseech you, do not be angry. Let us join with the Daevas - we have no option. The reach of the Daevas is all pervasive, they can reach anywhere, do anything"

These words now infuriated HK beyond all restraint.

"You, my own son, dare to stand there in my own hall, and tell me to be afraid of the Daevas? And you shake with fear of the Daevas, in my dominion? Alas, I doubt if you are really born of my loins - you have not the courage and will of the mighty Ausura. You are a coward, not fit to lead the Ausuras. Shame is upon me that my own seed is full of such weakness!" HK cried.

Prahlad stood silently, with a sudden tension upon his face. He glanced nervously towards the entrance of the hall. There were no guards in sight.

Only the lion-headed altar was visible, near the distant entrance.

He and HK were alone, unarmed.

"Is that your final word, then, O father? That you will not align with the Daevas?"

"How dare you ask me such a question, as if you give me a warning? Have you lost your senses?" HK cried out in an anger so furious that the serving Apsaras trembled in fear.

"Then may the P'tah protect your life!", Prahlad cried out loudly.


Prahlad's cry echoed throughout the huge hall, and in the next moment, there was a loud crash behind the royal couch on which HK sat.

The sudden sharpness of the sound struck terror in the hearts of all that were there, and HK jumped up in surprise, turning quickly to face the source of the loud sound.

One of the Apsaras screamed in panic, and HK instinctively reached to his side for his sword, before he realized that he was unarmed.

A large column behind HK had suddenly fractured, causing the loud noise.

The tall stone slab of the column side fell outward with a crash to reveal that it was a hollow, dummy column.

As the dust from inside the column settled, two human figures became apparent inside the darkness of the hollow space.

HK watched this, as if he was spellbound by this sudden turn of events. Then he came to his sense, and his eyes darted to and fro, as he tried to search desperately for a weapon.

Prahlad jumped to his feet. Yet, his reaction was entirely different from that of HK.

While HK looked for a weapon, Prahlad quickly moved backward, away from the column.

The Apsaras screamed again and again. as an assassin leapt out of the hollow column with his naked sword held in the ready posture of a warrior.
Rapidly, the second assassin moved out of the pillar behind the first one - armed with a small shool on his back, and a mini composite bow held in readiness with a wavy and lethal poisoned arrow.

Both figures emerged from the swirling dust, and moved towards HK like angels of death.

In the blink of an eye, and with a loud twang, the arrow disappeared from the bow of the second assassin and reappeared with a thud, lodged in HK's shoulder blade.
HK looked at his shoulder in shock, reeling backwards.

From where he stood, Prahlad could see the poisoned arrow jutting out from the back of his father.

"Treachery!" HK cried, as he staggered from the forceful impact of the poisoned arrow, "You shall die for this! Guards!" He shouted again, as his legs suddenly buckled under him and he dropped to his knees.

The poison was obviously fast, prepared by an expert toxicologist, for in battle, HK had borne wounds that were much more grievous, and yet fought to victory.

The two serving Apsaras screamed and ran towards the hall entrance, their screams echoing through the vast hall - "Help, Help, the King! The King!", while the head Apsara ran to support the staggering HK.

From outside, there was a sound of sudden commotion, as the screams of the Apsaras were suddenly cut off, as if they had been simply extinguished. The sounds of battle erupted outside, and added a surreal urgency to the drama taking place in the hall.

The head apsara threw herself between the Assassins and HK, as they quickly closed in upon him, their weapons ready to strike.

Grasping the King's side, to prevent him from falling to the floor, she screamed in shock and looked to Prahlad for help, "Help, O Prince! Your Fath…"

The apsara's words abruptly trailed off as realization dawned upon her and she froze in wide-eyed terror, as if a dagger had pierced her to her very heart. She remained in that position, frozen in disbelief.

As the assassins circled the wounded HK, looking for the right moment to strike, HK gathered his weakening strength, and pushed the Apsara away from him with a might shove that sent her sprawling towards the second assassin. She crashed into him, and they both toppled onto the floor.

In the same movement, the mighty HK rose to his feet and leapt upon the other assassin.

The assassin was ready.

As HK fell upon him, the assassin's sword smoothly ripped through HK's bowels and projected from the other side, just like the arrow that had pierced the shoulder blade.

"Victory to the Ausura!" cried HK, as his fingers sought for the throat of his killer.

The assassin quickly stepped away, pulling his sword out as he moved back. Even as he died, HK's grip could have held him helpless. But the assassin was not taking any chances.

HK tottered, his vision and his body failing him, the poison assailing his body from inside, and wounded mortally by the weapons.

The second assassin was back on his feet by now, and he leapt ahead and with a deft, practiced and powerful motion, his palm ripped into HK's belly. A quick twisting motion, and in a trice, he had disemboweled HK with his iron claws.

Blood spurted over him in a steady stream as HK fell down, convulsing from the poison now.

The assassins stood over the body of the mighty Ausura king, as it thrashed in mechanical death throes for a while, and then lay silent, some distance away from the pool of blood that spread from the dead body of the head Apsara.

Prahlad and the two assassins surveyed both the dead bodies for any signs of life, the assassins poised to act instantly if anything was amiss.


"He is dead" the first assassin said quickly with assurance to the second one.


Then, as if on a signal, they quickly moved into the space between the entrance and the Prince. They stood there poised, their weapons in position, ready to strike any bodyguards of HK who could have rushed in.


From outside the hall, there came a large outcry, and a furious clashing of weapons, as if a small battle was raging. But the sounds silenced very quickly, and then there was a sound of a bugle blowing thrice.
A moment of silence, and then a voice cried, "Victory to Lord Vishnu!", and there was the sound of footsteps running up the steps towards the hall entrance.
A soldier appeared in the distance, next to the lion-headed altar, and saluted.

"Victory to Lord Vishnu! The General sends his regards!" he cried, without entering the hall, taking in the scene from the distance.

At this, the two blood-drenched assassins relaxed. They lowered their weapons, and returned the salute, "Victory to Lord Vishnu, Victory to the Prince Prahlad!"

The soldier turned and disappeared again, his footsteps growing distant as he ran down the steps.

The two assassins turned towards the Prince and knelt in front of him, their heads bowed in respect.

"Your work is shoddy", Prahlad snapped at them. "Two apsaras escaped right in front of your eyes. Are you novices or trained warriors?"

"A thousand pardons, O Prince. They no longer live. Our guards outside will have made sure they did not step outside alive"

"Confirm this. There must be no witnesses"

"It will be done, O Prince. The royal bodyguards are no more - your own loyal staff of Bodyguards sent by the Lord Vishnu are guarding the hall entrance. The Ausura General has proclaimed loyalty to you and the Ausura priests that are against you will have been silenced. You may walk outside and proclaim the death of your father"

"And what of the body?"

"We have instructions to lay the body on the Lion Altar outside this temple. The Mithraic priests are waiting outside to proclaim your ascendancy to the throne and they will sanctify the death of your father as divine retribution"

"And what of the Ausura priesthood that is loyal to my father?"

"They have swords to their throats, right now, O Prince. The Priests of Mitra will be in power, as has been decided by your highness. Your entire staff is being replaced, with the exception of those loyal to you.
O Prince. Your path is clear. May you live long and prosper. I, Dandaka, the servant of Lord Vishnu, the devotee of the Lord Mitra, Loyal to the Lion of Mitra, have the pleasure of saluting you, having served you. Do not forget your loyal servants, O King"

"You may leave now, said P, dismissing them as he sat down heavily into the royal couch where his father sat a few moments ago, facing the dead body of the beautiful Apsara.

"We leave with your blessings, your Majesty," The two assassins cried in unison, their clothes still dripping with the blood of their victims.

They turned towards the dead body of the great Ausura King, who had been granted the status of Immortality by the priests of the P'tah, and lifted it with a great effort.

The disemboweled body was carried outside, and placed at the entrance of the hall, on the altar of Lions, presided over by another statue of the Lion headed God Mitra.

For the entire day, the body of the disemboweled HK was displayed in public.

This was no petty act - the orders had come from the great Lord Vishnu himself, and there was a great political intent in this display of the dead body of HK. The intent had to do with revoking the status of Immortality that had been conferred upon the dead HK.

The priesthood of the P'tah periodically conferred the status of Amaratva, immortality, upon deserving individuals who benefited the empire.

This priesthood of the P'tah was the first one to create and claim the status of divinity. It had proved to be a most efficient tool of ruling the Kingdom, and by merging this divine status with military power, the empire of the P'tah had reached heights that were previously unknown to mankind.

However, one of the necessities of claiming divine status was to be able to show the transcendence of death. And hence the priests had created the concept of immortality that could be conferred by them upon anyone, and they had also devised elaborate rituals and ceremonies around this conferring.

When a person having been blessed with Amaratva actually died, special care was taken to quickly spirit the body away, which was then embalmed and ceremoniously preserved in specially made stone tombs, in a protected place in the Kingdom of the P'tah. The priests would then declare that the individual had ascended to Swarga-lok, or heaven.
An added benefit of this system was that it often allowed the priests to issue orders from dead individuals, as an order given by the soul of the person from the after-world. In particular, this helped when a King died and there was a doubt about his successor.

Thus, the secret of the power of the P'tah priests was this concept of Immortality that they had created, and which they could confer at will.

The exposing of the dead body of the Ausura king HK to the citizens of the Kingdom would bring home to the citizens the fact that the Ausura could not have been immortal.

In defense, the priesthood of the P'tah would be forced to issue proclamations that HK had only been granted immortality in a conditional manner, and because the conditions had been fulfilled, he had been killed.
The illusion of Amaratva had to be maintained at any cost.

Thus, by exposing the dead body of HK, the Daevas had made sure that his status of divinity and immortality was revoked fully.

Shakra had played his cards well. He had lobbied the Lord Vishnu to expedite the assassination of the great Ausura through the priests of the temple of Mitra. The priests would not have paid heed to Indra, and hence he had to use the circuitous path of Lord Vishnu. With their connivance, he had secreted the two assassins in a dummy pillar inside the temple hall on the previous day.

After the assassination of the great HK, the Prince Prahlad was crowned by the priests of the temple of Mitra. No tales were recorded of this assassination, except by the chroniclers of the Daevas, who naturally managed to record the assassination in a manner that was suitable to the Daevas.

The war between the Daevas and the Ausuras did erupt again in the realm of the King P. However, it is a certainty that the Kingdom of the Prahlad did not participate in it, thus making the job of the Daevas much easier.

However, centuries later, the descendent of the King Prahlad would again regain the Ausura supremacy and claim his Ausura heritage proudly, forcing the Daevas to resort to subterfuge again under the guise of ridding the world of evil.

Such is the story of the assassination of HK, and such are the deceits that humans have practiced upon each other from the beginnings of time.


- The End -

(All copyrights reserved by the author, 19th March 2006, Pune)