Revenge of the Chandalas

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Revenge of the Chandalas Page 6

by Sandeep Nayyar


  Shatvari was sitting on the ground with Gunjan, and now looked up to find Damodar in the same agonising state. She rushed to her feet and looked around at the crowd of young men gathered to watch the fight. She said, “Is there not a single real man amongst you here? Are you simply enjoying the beastly violence of this man here?”

  Normally, nobody would have interfered in Veera's business but Shatvari's call motivated a few young men to move on and control Veera. They grabbed him and set Damodar free from his clutches. While still fending these men off, Veera said to Damodar, “So you showed your true self and broke our friendship for a girl. People forget their families for them, what of mere friends!”

  Damodar kept quiet. He rubbed his elbows and knees, dusted his clothes and got up from the ground.

  Shatvari suddenly realised that Gunjan was still lying on the ground and moaning slowly with his eyes closed. His right arm was swollen, and he couldn't even move it an inch. His eyes were moist with tears of pain and embarrassment. Shatvari tried to lift his head up but he couldn't move. She lifted his head and put it on her lap as she sat down beside him on the ground. She was softly fondling his right injured arm and his forehead. Some drops of perspiration fell on Gunjan's cheeks as she was bent over him. Gunjan felt at ease as a result of Shatvari's touch and tenderness. Her presence shrouded him in soft light and made him feel better. He felt no pain, only the caring breath of Shatvari touching his skin. He wouldn't care if he had to go through this pain again to feel this soft touch and tender love. Suddenly, it dawned upon him and he opened his eyes to see the crowd watching them intently. He could feel the peering eyes of the people, brimmed with many questions. Maybe they were right. He shook the aura away and tried to get up. But he couldn't and pain forced him to lie back down again.

  As Gunjan moaned again, Shatvari too felt the physical world around her. She looked around to see the gathered crowd looking down at her and Gunjan. She looked down again and tried to help Gunjan to get up. Watching her attempts, some people came forward and helped Gunjan onto a nearby cart. One of the boys volunteered to take him to a vaidya nearby. Shatvari couldn't muster any more courage to walk up to him to say goodbye. She stood there like an idol while Gunjan was carted away slowly.

  She was engulfed in her own thoughts until she realised Damodar was standing in front of her. She tried to smile at him. She wanted to say something, but she stayed silent for a few moments and then said, “Are you hurt badly?”

  “No, not much. Maybe some old wounds have surfaced.”

  “You have to admit that you encouraged Gunjan towards the fight knowing well what the outcome was. At that moment, I was really angry at you.”

  “I admit that it was my mistake, but I really had no idea that Veera would go to this extent.”

  “He was your friend, and you couldn't understand him?”

  “Only if we could understand people that easily. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to know people.” Damodar smiled and now Shatvari smiled back at him. They were looking into each other's eyes.

  Shatvari was looking for answers in his eyes. On one hand, he egged Gunjan on to fight Veera knowing the result very well, but on the other, he went to save him and got beaten himself. He wasn't simply trying all that to impress her.

  While they were lost in their trains of thoughts, somebody patted Shatvari's shoulder and said, “It's getting dark, let's go home.” It was Aditi.

  “Okay Damodar, we shall take our leave now,” said Shatvari. Damodar nodded and kept looking at her.

  Shatvari walked away with Aditi. She wasn't the same Shatvari that walked to the festival that morning. Something had changed.

  Chapter 10

  Neel and Dhananjay stood on a Sone river cliff erected over Sonmuda. Neel pointed towards the south-east across the cliff and said, “Do you see those valleys spread all over there?”

  “Yes, your Highness. I have known these since childhood. Anything special about them?”

  “Special is what lies beyond them—the Aryan Civilization. A civilization that teaches its citizens to carve their destiny as per their skills and nature. It defines a role for every individual within the society. It also teaches the importance of sacrificing for the welfare of the society.”

  “Yes, your Highness. But is it not a man's destiny to only live according to his nature? To be confined in the perimeter of his society. How come you are wondering about the Aryan Civilization?”

  Still looking far into the south-eastern valley, Neel said, “A man's destiny is defined by his essential nature.”

  “But a man's nature can never be the same or constant, your Highness. Life expands itself by design or by default. New nature forms itself and new skills are learnt every day, don't you think?”

  “Yes, you may be right, but every unified society stands on the individuals and the nature of those individuals must play within the perimeter of that society, else the foundation will never stand. Individual egos will clash; ambitions will collide, and the society will disintegrate for sure.” Neel turned around to his left to look directly at Dhananjay's face.

  “So, do you envisage such an issue can befall Aryans? Do you see a clash of egos within Aryans to be the start of its downfall?”

  Neel raised his right hand and slowly caressed his chin and said, “I am not sure, but every society goes through this phase. And I suspect Yaduvanshis cannot remain unaffected of this for long. We must be alert if we must fight and defeat Yaduvanshis. We must know them better. We must know their friends and enemies closely.”

  “I agree. But how is that possible? We do not have any spy there who can keep us updated.”

  “We ourselves will have to become spies and seek first-hand information.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have decided that both of us should go to Sripur—the capital of South Kosala. We will study their culture and society in totality. We will assess their strength and weakness from within. It's imperative that we know as much about our enemy as we can.”

  “But your Highness, who will look after Mekal if we leave it like this? We need a leader to be present in Mekal for day-to-day situations. What if they attack us again in your absence?”

  “I don't think they'll be able to pull themselves together for another combat soon. They will take their time to plan that. We will be there to find out what they are up to anyway. I have decided that I will delegate my responsibilities to our commander-in-chief and we both will leave soon for South Kosala.”

  “If you want and you find me capable, I can stay back to look after the security of Mekal during your absence?”

  “Dhananjay, of course, I trust you. But there is a purpose for which I am taking you with me. You are needed for this mission. I will feel very lonely without you.”

  Dhananjay nodded in acceptance and said, “Sure, as you command, your Highness.”

  Upon arriving at Sripur's main entrance, Neel and Dhananjay scanned around the enormous fortification of the city. A sturdy stone wall of about a hundred and fifty feet high and fifty feet thick enclosed the city. At the top of the wall, a flat road was built for armed soldiers to keep vigil. On top of the perimeter wall, a thirty-foot high barricade of red stone was erected to strategically place vigilant soldiers to keep an eye on approaching enemies around the clock. At every six hundred feet, there was a fifty-foot high watchtower. A set of stairs from the barricade went up to the watch towers, which had round windows as the surveillance points. Those points could easily look up to two kilometres. The fort had four main entrances in each direction, with armed brigades guarding all the time. At about thirty feet, a hundred-foot wide deep trench encircled the fort. It was about fifty-foot deep and its inner walls were lined with earthen bricks. The trench was connected via a tunnel that pumped water from river Mahanadi. The water flew in clockwise direction. The water level was controlled by a machine. The trench was populated with crocodiles to stop anybody from trying to swim through to reach the fort. The distance betw
een the fort wall and the trench was covered by toxic and thorny shrubs.

  Neel and Dhananjay looked at each other. They realised that the fort could never be breached in a direct attack. They would have to think of alternative plans and make a rational assessment. That's why they were there.

  They had changed their appearance and disguised as two Brahmin students. They had shaved their beards off and trimmed their hair leaving behind only a ponytail typical of a Brahmin scholar. They wore plain white loincloth instead of the striped one that they wore in Mekal. The upper corset was also of simple cotton cloth rather than the usual leather one. Wooden pattern slippers covered their feet instead of leather.

  Arriving at the main entrance, which was also called the 'Brahmdwaar', they greeted the armed guards by respectfully bowing their heads. One of the guards who was taller and looked enormous with his loathsome persona asked Neel, “Where have you come from? What do you want?”

  “Sir, we have come from north-west state of Takshkhand's capital Taxila. We are students of sociology at the university there. We are doing research on the social, economic, political, cultural and philosophical aspects of Aryan Civilization. Sripur being one of the largest cultural centres of Aryan culture, we have come here to seek more information to aid our research.” replied Neel.

  The guard spoke even before Neel had finished, “You are coming here for education. Do you have an identity card of any sort?”

  Neel nodded in negative looking up at the guard.

  “So, your school never told you that you need papers to enter a state capital. What have you been studying?”

  “Sir, our school, in fact university, taught us about knowledge and not much about what you are asking. Besides, we have been to many other states and none of them demanded any papers?”

  “Whatever, you might have gone to Raghuvanshi states, they generally trust anybody. This is a Yaduvanshi capital and we have strict rules and tight security. We cannot just let any stranger to walk through into our capital.” The guard stepped back and took his usual guarding stance with head high-up and spear in front of him clutched tightly in front of his wide chest.

  Realising that the guard wasn't showing any interest, Neel tried again, “Sir we have come from afar. We are simple students. We only want to study about your culture. Our study will have a profitable effect on you and your people. We will share whatever we have.”

  The mention of profit and share made another guard to take interest in Neel. He nudged him aside and whispered in his ears, “I can help you by allowing you to meet our security officer. If he allows, then you can enter. That's the best I can do for you.”

  Neel's eyes lit up and he knew that the guard took his bait. He said, “That would be very kind of you, sir.”

  The guard went away inside and soon came back with a stout man of average height, dark complexion, and long face. His hair was tied back in a ponytail on his back. Glancing at Neel and Dhananjay he asked, “So you have come to study?”

  “Yes sir. We have heard a lot of great things about Sripur.” replied Neel.

  “You have heard the truth, but this will cost you, my friends, four hundred gages.”

  “One has to pay four hundred to enter the capital? Are you asking for a bribe?” asked Neel.

  “Not a bribe, a simple entry fee. Two hundred each.”

  “Do we have to pay anything else besides this?”

  “No. But you will have to arrange and pay for your boarding, lodging and food. I will introduce you to teachers from our university employed here. They can help you in your research. You can pay them something as a gesture of goodwill if you feel.”

  Neel knew where the entry fee was going to end up. That guard's intent to help and this officer's over generousness gave some glimpse of how the system in Sripur worked.

  The officer took them inside and on the left towards a big official building adjacent to the inside of the perimeter wall. The building was clearly marked as 'Security Office'. A large chakra was drawn underneath the label. They went up the stairs and through a large, wooden door entered a big hall. A table with a large seat on one side and four ordinary, wooden chairs were placed on the other side. They all took their seats and the officer addressed the duo.

  “So, what did you say your names were?”

  “I am Badrinath and this is my friend Kedarnath.” replied Neel.

  “How long will you stay?”

  “As long as it takes for us to finish our research. Maybe a few months.”

  “Okay. As soon as you get a place to stay you must come back here and report your address. You will have to come here every Monday to inform us of your presence as long as you are staying here. In case you are unable to come due to sickness, you will have to intimate us by some other means. Failure to do so can result in your expulsion and maybe imprisonment. Do you understand?”

  “No problem, sir. We understand everything.”

  The officer noted all the details on a thin, bronze leaf. He stood up and motioned them both to follow him, “Okay, then let me introduce you to a teacher who will help you in your research.”

  They all went outside the building where a four-wheeled carriage was waiting for them. The officer sat at the front and instructed both to sit behind him.

  It was a two-horse driven carriage. Neel was astonished to see the carriage as it was roughly double the size of his own carriage in Mekal. If an ordinary security officer had this kind of carriage, it was impossible for Neel to visualise what the royal chariot of South Kosala would look like. That thought forced him to draw comparison between affluence of South Kosala and modest resources of Mekal.

  Chapter 11

  Shatvari's fluttering fingers on the museless strings of her Veena were producing no music that day. She sat lost in her stream of thoughts trying to weave them in a conceivable form, but to no avail. The events that had unfolded on the Pola festival day troubled her mind. Gunjan was still recovering from his wounds, and his right arm's muscles were badly torn. That was affecting his livelihood. Damodar emerged in a new light. It was a pleasant surprise. What had gone on in Veera's head that made him hurt both Gunjan and Damodar so badly? Why did he loathe women so much? Was it because of the treatment he got from his stepmother? But why vent it on Gunjan and Damodar? An impatient knock on the door broke her chain of thoughts. It was Damodar.

  She opened the door. Even though she was a bit surprised, she tried her best to not look so. She asked, “Damodar, how are you?”

  “You haven't been coming for the music lessons, so father sent me to assure your well-being. Is everything okay, Shatvari?”

  “Oh, yes. It's just that Gunjan is still not well, so we do not have a conveyance to get there.”

  “That is so. You should have informed me. I could have come to take you. Anyway, now I am here, so please come along.”

  Shatvari looked at Damodar. He was unusually calm. There was no trace of excitement or excessive eagerness that she observed in all their previous meetings.

  “Just wait for a moment, I'll inform my mother,” said Shatvari, and then she went in. She needed the break more than Damodar expected.

  As soon as they both walked out of the house, Shatvari's eyes fell on Damodar's horse carriage. It looked like a small royal chariot. The two giant wooden wheels made of Sal were studded with metal to lend strength. A thick wooden axle yoked the two wheels together. The upper carriage was built of teak wood and it had fine engravings on each side. The engravings were decked with copper and ivory designs to make them look spectacular. The front seat was a wide red satin-covered padded mattress. Right behind that seat was a passenger's seat that could accommodate up to three people comfortably. The carriage's upper canopy was covered with a silk cloth, supported by two metallic poles. A white horse of a high pedigree stood at the front with leather reins spread down to its back.

  Shatvari was visibly impressed by the carriage. She tried to hide it and realised the reason why Damodar had been so arro
gant about his carriage in the past.

  Damodar rode in the carriage and asked, “Should we also pick up your friend Aditi?”

  “No, she is not in the village. She has gone to her grandmother's as we realised, we wouldn't be able to go for our classes for some time,” Shatvari paused for a moment and asked, “But tell me where did you get such a beautiful carriage? You are only a modest Brahmin's son. This must be really expensive?”

  “I was friends with the son of a wealthy merchant in town. He gifted it to me.”

  “Really! What good friends you have. Normally, even our own relatives don't bestow such costly presents.”

  “That's the quality of our friendship. We make friends that are dearer than family members and relatives. If you doubt it, you can try for yourself.”

  “Doubt? Nothing to doubt. I can see the proof with my own eyes right here. But it's better if friendship remains within the limits, otherwise people start to doubt a man's character.”

  “Me and him? What an incredible joke! I am not that kind of man,” Damodar burst into laughter.

  Shatvari was now clearly enjoying talking to Damodar. She asked, “Now since we are talking about friendship, how come you made a friend like Veera? You don't seem such a man.”

  “Well, sometimes people do make mistakes in choosing friends. Veera was one such mistake. His father is a wealthy and influential man of the village; he is a very intelligent person. I thought maybe his son inherited his qualities.”

  The mention of Veera changed the mood of the conversation. Shatvari realized that and said, “So are we going straight to your house?”

  “That is the intention, so far, yes.”

  “I remember you once promised to take me around in your carriage.”

  “Promise, no, but a humble request, yes. Still waiting for your reply.”

  “Really? Then, I give my consent. Where will you take me?” Damodar's eyes lit up as soon as he heard the permission from Shatvari. He said, “There is a beautiful, ancient temple along Mahanadi River. If you don't mind, we can go there, it'll be a great trip.” Shatvari noticed the usual excitement in Damodar's voice which he showed for the first time that day.

 

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