Revenge of the Chandalas

by Sandeep Nayyar

  Suddenly Shatvari realized that she had told her mother that she will be going to Acharya ji. But she went with Damodar. Should she tell her mother the truth about this? It would be better to tell her herself rather than her finding out from someone else.

  “No, Ma, I didn't go to Acharya ji's house today. Damodar offered to come along him for his horse-cab's ride so I went to the town with him. We went to a temple together,” said Shatvari resting her head on her mother's right shoulder.

  Gautami probably felt better to know the truth. Maybe she had no problem with Shatvari going out with Damodar.

  “So how was your day with Damodar?” asked Gautami smiling at her daughter.

  “It was great, Ma. It went like a whiff. Damodar sings so well. It sounds like God himself sings from his throat,” said Shatvari turning a little pink while praising Damodar.

  “Do you like being with Damodar?”

  “I don't mind, really, I don't know Ma,” Shatvari blushed slightly and looked down.

  “And what about him?” asked Gautami, reading her blushing cheeks.

  Shatvari blushed again, deeply. She knew how desperately Damodar wanted to be with her. She got a hold of herself and replied, “I hope he does; otherwise why would he take me out?”

  “If you both like each other, then why not decide to stay together forever? Damodar is well-educated, handsome, and from a decent family known to us. This really is a good match,” said Gautami, looking at her pink face.

  Shatvari tilted her head down modestly. She didn't know what to say.

  'Ma really doesn't know that I have been thinking about the same thing ever since I came back. Or does she know? After all she's my ma,' Thought Shatvari. Mother's suggestion eased her heart a bit.

  “Your silence says that you agree with this alliance. I will talk to your father. I am so happy for you dear,” Gautami's face lit up with excitement. Shatvari sat in silence with her head down.

  “It seems Shatvari and Damodar like each other,” said Gautami to Shastri ji with a glee on her face.

  “Did she say that to you?” asked Shastri ji, pleasantly surprised.

  “Not in clear words, but I know my daughter for sure.”

  “If this is the case then, of course, I am happy with this alliance. I like Damodar, he is a very bright young man.”

  “So, will you talk to Acharya Ji regarding this?”

  “Yes, but we should first ask Shatvari and Damodar, what do they think?”

  “Don't worry about Shatvari. I am sure she would be happy to marry Damodar. Acharya ji should ask Damodar about it, you can suggest that to him,” Gautami looked quite assured.

  “Okay, I will discuss this with Acharya ji. This will be a good relation for both the families,” contemplated Shastri ji. Gautami's face lit up with positive expectations.

  Shastri ji felt relieved and happy to hear about Shatvari and Damodar. All his worries regarding Shatvari's relation with Gunjan started to vanish. Ever since he heard about the events of Pola festival from people, he had been anxious and worried. He thanked the Almighty that his prayer had been answered.

  “How did the sun rise from the west? So, finally Vishwamitra's magic has worked upon Menka,” Aditi poked fun at Shatvari.

  “Neither am I Menka and nor is Damodar Vishvamitra. Nothing out of order is happening. You just say whatever makes you happy.”

  “That's right-your love is that of Radha-Krishna style, with that sorcerer Krishna. But tell me how did this happen? You never used to bother about that Damodar,” teased Aditi further.

  “But I never showed any disrespect to Damodar ever. But now I am realising that he has a divine character,” replied Shatvari with a glint in her eyes.

  “Oh, I see, so the black magic is working. Where is the magician these days?” Aditi grinned impishly.

  “He has gone to town to invite his friends for the wedding and to make some final preparations.”

  “So, he might be having many girlfriends in the town too, being the spell casting wizard he is.”

  “You are simply jealous that you can't find such a handsome man for yourself,” Shatvari fired back at Aditi.

  “Don't be so arrogant. I might steal him from you leaving you gasping.”

  “Always thinking about other people's stuff, huh? Find one for yourself,” laughed Shatvari and Aditi joined and they both laughed their hearts out together.

  “Getting married my friend?” asked Ambarish, the son of the town merchant while gently patting Damodar's right shoulder. Ambarish was a stocky young man of average height. He had a round plump face, oily skin and a wheatish brown complexion. Ambarish wore an elegantly cut hairdo.

  “Yes, that's why I am here to invite you my dear friend of friends!” replied Damodar with excitement and happiness. Ambarish was his dearest friend. How could he hide his excitement from him?

  “I am happy for you mate. But do you know what happens after marriage? Any idea of the things you must know beforehand?” Ambarish had a twinkle in his eyes.

  “I know that marriage brings forth a lot of responsibilities. One has to share all his happiness, sorrows, and everything with a life-partner.”

  “Oh, my innocent fool, that's not what I am asking dear. I meant what happens soon after the wedding. Do you have any experience in how to tackle that?” Ambarish raised his eyebrows and winked at Damodar so that he understood instantly.

  “I am not that much of a simpleton, Ambarish. But having such experiences before marriage? Is that appropriate?”

  “So, you are telling me that you'll meet your wife on the first night with no experience or know-how of what to do? You don't know that this is the time to win over the bride once and for all. Those who get the first night right rule the entire life.”

  “But before marriage? How that is possibly appropriate? Is this not against the traditions?

  “Everything is possible, my dear friend. In towns, we have courtesans to give such experiences. They are beautiful conjurers adept in the art of erotic lovemaking. Young boys and girls from royal and rich families visit these courtesans to know more of such experiences to be better prepared for love life after marriage. This is a tradition in itself, my friend.”

  “I don't feel this is a right tradition. Let me remain a simpleton with no experience.”

  “I am better off as an innocent fool,” thought Damodar.

  “Don't talk like an ignorant village boy. If you disapprove of the traditions followed in towns then why did you come and study here? What did you come here to learn? See, every girl has countless dreams about her marriage. We men can't come close to grasping their imaginations when it comes to love and marriage. These courtesans can make you aware of those feminine secrets. To lead a happy married life, you have to understand the desires and dreams of your wife.”

  “I understand what you say, but is this appropriate? What if something goes wrong?” Damodar still didn't look convinced.

  “What can go wrong? You are not going there to build a relationship, just spend some time and get on your merry way. A new courtesan has arrived in town. Her name is Amodini—incredible beauty! I have heard stories of how mighty kings and princes line up to be with her. If you are ready, I can arrange a visit for you.”

  Damodar thought for a moment, initially hesitated, but eventually nodded.

  Amodini was a stunning beauty. She was tall, slender, and had a fair complexion as if white milk and rose nectar combined to create an aura of majesty. Her face was decked with a pair of intoxicating large eyes—Damodar had never seen such an exotic beauty.

  'Wow! Truly incredible. Who wouldn't fall for such a luscious beauty!' Damodar was awestruck.

  Ambarish went ahead and greeted Amodini and introduced Damodar as his friend who studied together with him in town but now lives in his village.

  No sooner than Ambarish had expressed his greetings, Amodini cast a sensual look at Damodar, “Damodar! Hmm...Looks like a very decent man, your friend.”

&nb
sp; She then came face-to-face with Damodar, “You have something that I haven't seen anywhere else. You do not look like you are from a royal or a merchant family.”

  “That's right, I am from a simple Brahmin family. My father is an Acharya of classical music.”

  “We too have an intricate relation with music. I hope you too might know some music being Acharya ji's son,” asked Amodini widening her amber lit eyes.

  “Yeah, I can do a bit, not much.”

  “This modesty is what makes you different. I am sure you breathe music every moment.”

  “So, you think you can gauge people that well?”

  “This is what I have been doing all my life—trying to gauge people. Seen more than my fair share of life,” Amodini again cast a sensuous look and took his hand in her hand.

  The mere touch of Amodini's hand sent tidal waves across Damodar's body, as if many strings were plucked at the same time. He had never been touched by such a lusciously beautiful woman in his life. Before he could get a hold of himself, he heard Ambarish jumping in the conversation, “You are right Amodini, Damodar is a master musician just like his respected father.”

  “Let's see how much music runs in your veins my dear. Can you match the rhythm of my feet with your beats?”

  “You are trying to challenge me?” Laughed Damodar.

  “All those who come here, go back after losing everything. Don't harness hopes of winning,” said Amodini, still holding the same bewitching look in her eyes.

  “If you dare to bet, let's try our fortunes!”

  “As you wish—if you win, I will always ever dance only for you.”

  “And if I lose?”

  “Then you will play Pakhawaj here for me all your life,” said Amodini with an impish smile, and both Ambarish and Damodar erupted in a playful laughter.

  Amodini's place was no less than a grand theatre. The white marble floor was covered with a soft velvet carpet with very fine embroidery. Large cushions wrapped in silk covers lay on either side of the velvet carpet. Each cushion had a couple of round pillows. Some musical instruments sat in one corner of the grand room. On all four corners of the carpet, four pillars stood as if holding the floor and the roof together. The red pillars had beautifully etched poses of celestial Gandharvas and Apsaras. The walls were also made of red stone and depicted engraved poses of erotic dancers.

  Damodar sat on one of the large cushioned mattresses, took a deep breath and let out a long sequence of notes forming a melodic tune. He started with a fast tempo and picked a melodious composition in Teental. Amodini's feet picked up the rhythm and started to move in incredible dance poses. Melody and rhythm started to play with each other in a fascinating duel. Soon both started to grow in confidence and stature as if to dare each other. The contest thus seemed entrapping not only both the artists and accompanying musicians but also all the engraved celestial dancers on the red walls.

  As the music and dance rose to a shared, thrumming crescendo, Amodini abruptly drew back towards Damodar and put her right foot on his left thigh “I am impressed! I must confess whole heartedly that I have not seen such a master musician as you are. Bet or no bet, I so willingly would serve you dancing all my life.”

  “So, you accept a graceful defeat?” said Damodar while looking at the silver anklet in her curvy leg.

  “Sometimes the game takes you at a point where a win and a defeat look just the same. Where a defeat feels just as sweet,” Amodini shook her anklet.

  “Seems like you two have found a perfect tuning and I am not required anymore,” said Ambarish and he rose to leave.

  Amodini didn't seem to care what Ambarish said. Damodar leaned forward and politely bade Ambarish good-bye.

  “How come you chose to come to me while there are a few others in the town?” Amodini asked Damodar, as soon as Ambarish left.

  “I wasn't aware of all this, to be honest. Ambarish brought me here, if truth be told.”

  “Oh, so the credit should go to your friend, you didn't want to come, mister,” said Amodini stroking Damodar's left palm with her right.

  “I didn't say that, exactly.”

  “Didn't I tell you, all my life I have learnt to understand how men think? Trust me, it's an art in itself. I can tell looking at your face that it's your first time ever.”

  “Alright, alright…I agree you are great at this 'art',” confessed Damodar while bringing his head down.

  “Then tell me what is it that brought a man like you here?”

  “What is it that brings people to you?”

  “People come to us for a lot of reasons. Those in love, come to learn the art of loving; those hurt in love, come for comfort; happy people come to celebrate; sad souls come to mourn. What brings you here?”

  “You said you are a master in reading people, try again?”

  “Well…you have a beloved?”

  “Are you asking or telling me?”

  “I am telling you,” laughed Amodini, “You have a new-found love. You need to learn the ropes quick and you have been told that this is the best way to do that.”

  Damodar didn't say anything. He kept looking back with a gentle nod and a sideways smile.

  “Do you take liquor?”

  “Is that a question, or an offer?”

  “It's a very old joke,” Amodini sneered, “I didn't get a reply, yet”.

  “Sorry, I don't drink.”

  “A very strange man! The harlot houses of Sripur run on liquor. It flows faster than the breath of people who come here.”

  “You are more than enough to intoxicate me, who needs liquor!”

  “Didn't I tell you—you have something that others don't. I hope you are ready for the real game now,” said Amodini in a sensual and saucy tone.

  “If you are the host of the game, why don't you prepare me yourself.”

  “You sure are a naïve player in this,” Amodini pulled his collar and gave him a sideways mischievous glance.

  Cuddling Amodini in his arms, Damodar pulled the silken duvet from his shoulders. Her soft embrace was smoother anyway: reveling in her arms felt like basking in the winter sun. Her breath smelled like a moist sandal stick, her silken hair flowing like a gentle breeze of spring. He pulled her sweet face close to his. Her lips pulled his into a dance, holding them in and sucking slowly. Damodar had never imagined that the first experience of life would be so intoxicating. The idea of getting up and having another look at her luscious beauty crossed his mind, but he brushed it aside, preferring to clutch her in his arms sturdily.

  'Why would I need liquor when Amodini is here? She herself is so intoxicating, she has taken hold of me like a wine. Do all harlots shower so much love on their clients? Or has she just found attunement with me? How did she find the perfect rhythm to lead me in so many melodies? Amodini is not teaching me the art of love making. She is playing this game so intensely that she has forgotten who is teaching whom. Will the game end today? Or is the board just set for a new round?'

  Damodar pondered this for a while, clad in the warm embrace of Amodini, and then pulled the duvet over his shoulders.

  “How did the first experience go, my friend?” asked Ambarish tapping Damodar's shoulder who was sitting there lost in some distant thoughts.

  Damodar kept looking in a far distance. Ambarish pressed his shoulder and asked again, “What's the matter, are you tired?”

  “No, I think I should now get back to my home.”

  “As you wish. But keep in mind this is also your home, you can stay as long as you want.”

  “I know, but I think it's time to get back,” replied Damodar, and, then paused to think and added, “I am thinking I should go and thank Amodini one last time before I leave.”

  “Courtesans are thanked with coins, not with words and warmth. We have paid for her services. What else left?”

  “Nothing, just…,” whispered Damodar.

  “Oh, my country fool! Don't tell me you've fallen for a courtesan? Don't you unders
tand that this is their profession—to entice every person, they meet and make them feel as if he's the most important person for her. Forget her, go back home and step in the new phase of your life.”

  “Perhaps Ambarish is right. Maybe I am reading the events of last night in my own personal manner. Maybe I am just that—yet another customer for her. Ambarish had rightly said—just spend some time and get on your merry way. I think I should do the same.”

  Damodar bade goodbye to Ambarish and started on his journey back to his village.

  Chapter 14

  “Why don't we go out and see the town and try to understand the characters and traits of people here? We do not have much time to stay here as you know. So, let's finish our food and set out,” said Neel to Dhananjay.

  “As you wish, your Highness.”

  Both finished their lunch and went out. Strolling through the market they saw a large notice written on a silk cloth hung on a large building. It read: “Everyone is invited to a special dance programme this evening by the enchanting queen of beauty and arts—Nagarvadhu Vaishali. All music lovers are cordially invited.”

  Neel pointed at the notice and said, “This might be a great occasion to meet a lot of dignitaries and noted citizens of this state. We'll gain good insights.”

  “But the society is largely comprised of ordinary citizen, what will we gain after meeting the elite class?” asked Dhananjay.

  “Yes, but these elite men lead the ordinary citizen. It is true that most of these special citizens do not necessarily respect art, but they still come to pretend their likeness for fine arts. Most leaders of society are these fake pretenders.”

  “Yes, maybe you are right. Let's go and see for ourselves then.”

  Inside the huge building and through a wide hallway, there was a five-foot-high performance stage. Musicians sat on either side of the stage with different instruments, such as Veena, Mridangam, and Pakhawaj. Rows of chairs occupied the rest of the hall. Special seating with larger and well-cushioned chairs was arranged for the special guests and leaders. Behind these chairs were rows for ordinary chairs for common people. Neel and Dhananjay took their seats in one of the chairs at the back row.