Revenge of the Chandalas

by Sandeep Nayyar

  Amodini looked at Damodar's face. She knew she had fired the erotic arrow at the right moment. But she needed to see the signs of affirmation.

  “Won't you tell something about yourself? How have you been?” asked Damodar.

  “So, finally you want to know how I have been. Seems like you forgot your bet. You won the bet and walked away from the reward.”

  “Oh, that was just a joke, nothing serious.”

  “Maybe for you, but I took it most sincerely.”

  “Well, so you can fulfil that promise now. Dance here in this festival as if you are doing that just for me.”

  “Will you be able to match the rhythm of my feet with your heartbeats?”

  Damodar felt the same flurry of emotion as he did feel when he met her for the first time. The entire experience came down thunderously upon him.

  “The promise from your side was to dance for me. I don't need to sing anymore.”

  “That entirely depends upon you. If your heart can stop its breaths from throbbing with the rhythm of my feet, you can stay away. Else I will wait for you there.” Amodini raised her eyebrow as if throwing a challenge to Damodar. She then gently walked out of the room.

  Damodar sat there motionless. Amodini was adept at reading the minds of men. He was more than eager to get on the stage with her and create the same magic of music synchronisation that they had created when they first met. But he was a married man with a stable household. His respect and fame in the society also put him ethically beyond such adventures of engaging with a courtesan. On the other hand, that was the inherent role of a courtesan—to please the respected men of the society. They were not merely treated as an object of lust. They were highly trained artists with skills in classical dance and music aimed at the finer sensibilities of the elite men. Still, he knew whatever he felt for Amodini was not simply an emotionless attraction for a random courtesan. The thought troubled him. Heart and mind moved in contrasting directions.

  The festival opened with Amodini's performance. Many renowned musicians accompanied her on the stage. They were playing and enjoying the rhythm of her feet. But Amodini's eyes were searching for Damodar in the crowd. For a while the hope remained alive in her eyes and she kept up the routine but when she realized that it was in vain her whole body almost gave up. She was dancing just for the sake of it. The aura and charisma of her usual performance were lacking. The dance lost its soul. People in the crowd noticed it and were visibly bored.

  Sitting in the last row of the auditorium, Damodar, too felt that Amodini was not dancing as she usually did. He also knew its reason.

  “I met Amodini?” said Damodar to Ambarish.

  “Who? That courtesan Amodini? After all you couldn't keep control on your silly self my friend.” replied Ambarish.

  “Yes, I met her at the recent festival. I controlled my heart, but her feet were dying to harp on my command.”

  “I see. Now even they fall in love. What special quality have you got that she is dying to come to you? They make the royal princes and kings die for them and you are saying she is mad for you. Are you sure, that you are not being befooled?”

  “I think I have learnt enough from life to know the difference between confusion and genuine feelings. I have seen a sincere desperation in her eyes.”

  “And what about you?”

  Damodar didn't reply. He kept looking ahead in the vacuum.

  “Seems like the matter is more serious than I thought. What do you want to do now?” asked Ambarish.

  “I am going to see her once.”

  “I hope you know the consequences. Keep a tab on your heart my friend. It's a no-return journey.”

  “You may be right. But I think I have stepped on that journey already. So why not go and see it through. Maybe I'll find a way back.”

  Amodini looked up to find Damodar in her dance theatre. An expression of surprise mixed with joy appeared on her face.

  “See, your helpless poor feet dragged you here to me finally. I told you, you won't be able to stop yourself for long,” said Amodini.

  The expression on her face changed to one of arrogance and pride. She felt as if Damodar came on his knees asking for her there.

  “Well, not that helpless but it was important for me to come. Something needs to be done.”

  “At least some truth even if not the whole. What was so important that you felt like coming here?”

  “Wanted to talk a few things with you.”

  “All that you want to say can't be said with your words. Leave it. I understand.”

  “So, let this be our last meeting, I can't betray my wife.”

  “You sound like you have rehearsed that a few times. But you are failing. Are you not betraying your own self?” Damodar didn't reply. He looked away from Amodini and looked at a window that brought in some fresh air into the hall. Amodini held his hand and pulled him down, “Sit here please.”

  The touch of Amodini's hand raised his sensation that he had determined to suppress. He moved slightly away from her. She moved even closer and asked, “Have you started drinking yet?”

  “No not yet.” Damodar kept looking away.

  Amodini moved her face closer to Damodar's face and rubbed her cheek ever so slightly. Damodar felt he would melt away any moment.

  “You will have to start soon then. Who would intoxicate you in my absence?” Amodini put her arms around the neck of Damodar and pulled him towards her. “Let your heart open up to its core and come to me. You can then decide for yourself what is right or wrong.”

  Amodini pulled him closer and put her lips on Damodar's lips. Luscious lips kissed away Damodar's doubts and hesitation. He sprawled over her body in the emotions of the moment like molten candle wax.

  Damodar sat in his house with his Veena.

  “You look lost in distant thoughts. Is anything wrong?” asked Shatvari.

  “I have to prepare for an important program. Can't think of anything.”

  “Important program...you are quite busy in these programs these days. You don't seem to bother about the household or even me.”

  “So, my wife has a concern about her husband?”

  “Really. I didn't say anything to mean that. Should I be concerned?”

  “Well, you meant that, didn't you?”

  “If you felt that, I was just joking. But you do look lost in thoughts beyond my knowledge these days.”

  “There are a lot of things in life. Not sure you should know each.”

  “I am your wife. I have full right to know each and everything happening in your life.”

  Shatvari sat down beside him and said, “Okay give me the Veena, I'll help you with your practice. What's the subject of your program?”

  “Lost in her thoughts” whined Damodar, “Can you not leave me alone for a few moments?”

  Shatvari thought it was right to go away from there. But she kept thinking about this. What could be the reason of Damodar's annoyance? Nothing had changed in their personal life that could disturb him. There were no apparent issues. But he was disturbed. She wanted to know its reason. Suddenly, she thought of Ambarish. He was the closest friend Damodar had in Sripur. He would know for sure.

  Damodar was lying on the carpet beside Amodini's feet. He slowly rubbed his cheeks onto her silver anklet. He was looking up at her face while Amodini's thighs were clearly visible from within her sari.

  “Ambarish says royal kings and princes fall down to their knees for you.”

  “If that were the case, there would be golden crowns instead of silver anklets here.” laughed Amodini.

  “And here you have a poor Brahmin. Tell me honestly, what did you find in me that you preferred me over all those rich kings and merchants?”

  “They don't love women like us. For them I am just an object of pleasure—a harlot. Moreover, they don't breathe music as you do. As I do. I can kick away any number of soulless crowns but a heart fluttering with the divine notes of music is life for me.”

/>   Amodini caressed Damodar's cheek with the sole of her foot. Damodar's shivering lips were desperate to get a feel of her silky thighs as he said, “Well, I tried my best to hold tight to my heart….” he continued to move up from her ankles, calves and up to her warm thighs.

  “But it slipped out anyway…” thought Amodini and pulled her leg back and Damodar slipped back to her calves. Amodini laughed and added further, “I spotted you right in the first meeting that each cell in your body was dying to throb at the rhythm of my feet.”

  Damodar softly planted a kiss on Amodini's ankle and said, “When the breeze that touches you becomes musical how can one not be mesmerised with your magic. People often die to grab the beauty of body but fail to see the music that emanates from it.”

  “Music would come from each part and you are stuck only at my feet,” Amodini pulled Damodar towards her and her ample bosom took him in.

  Ambarish's four-storeyed house was a grand building. It was encircled by ten feet high red stone wall. Once inside the house, Amodini couldn't help but see the abundance and grandness of the place. She wondered how rich Ambarish might be and whether that was the reason why Damodar became his friend in the first place. But that wasn't a good thought as Damodar was a simple Brahmin scholar interested only in music. She wasn't sure what was true in a way. If he was a simple Brahmin how come he had friends like Ambarish? Maybe Ambarish was the reason of Damodar's frustration in some way. Was Damodar harbouring any ambitions? Was there an unknown facet of Damodar that she was unaware of? Such flurry of thoughts troubled her mind as she walked further into the house.

  Suddenly, Shatvari's eyes caught a glimpse of a large room on the left-hand side of the yard. The scene took her breath away. She felt the ground beneath her feet slipping like sand. It was Damodar. He was lying in a woman's arms as if a lousy snake was entwined around a Sandal tree. She was resting on Damodar's chest with her breasts pressed between them while they locked their lips in a timeless passage of play. Damodar's eager hands were fumbling to pull down her wet sari down from her busty hips. The pair was so engrossed in the amorous act that they didn't realize that Shatvari was standing right on the doorstep.

  Chapter 18

  “What are you thinking?” asked Dhananjay while walking out of Krishnamurti's house.

  Neel looked puzzled. He put a counter question, “What is your opinion?”

  “I think Yaduvanshis have their enemies within them.”

  “Maybe, but who are they?”

  “Can't you figure out?”

  “Maybe I do, but I want to know who you think are their enemies?”

  “You know it very well that the Chandalas and Dalits are their most potential enemies lurking within their own backyard. They have been exploited for generations. They are girding up to organise themselves. At the first opportunity, they will go all out on the Yaduvanshi higher castes and would do everything to destroy them.”

  “That's exactly what I am concerned about. Chandalas' fury is not simply confined to Yaduvanshis. They are angry with the degeneration of the whole Aryan Civilization. They are gradually opting for a path of aggression and violence. They are learning black magic. Today they are fighting the rule of the debased Aryans and tomorrow they might just turn their swords against us too. They will fight and oppose any form of state rule and eventually the entire system. We should be very wary of them.”

  “So, you take them as our enemy as well?”

  “Not necessarily as enemy, but certainly not as friends. You must understand that an enemy of Aryans would not always be our friend. Moreover, we are not against the Aryan culture and its great civilization. We must learn and imbibe a lot from that culture. Their science is highly developed. Their philosophy is of the highest order. We are against their insensitive ideology of imperialism and their caste-based inhuman discrimination.”

  “And how do we fight them then? Who will help us?”

  “I pin my hopes on the Vaniks, the enterprising businesspeople.”

  “But why will they stand by us? They are peace-loving merchants why will they fight their masters?”

  “Dhananjay, their philosophy is based on diligence and labour. They believe in hard work to earn their living and status. Any sort of theft and manipulation is against their ideology. They are against any form of exploitation to grab assets of others. They are firmly against any form of violence. All we need to do is to explain to them the policies of expansion of the Aryan kings. They must be made to understand that the present Aryan culture will ruin the Vanik way of thinking eventually.”

  “But Vaniks have already moved on leaving their original philosophy behind.”

  “No that's not the case. You didn't pay proper attention to Krishnamurti's talk. Shraman philosophy is on the rise again. This is the best opportunity to get them against the Aryans. As you know that the main strength of the Aryans is their economic prosperity. Most of the trade and business is directly influenced by the Vanik community. If they go against the Aryans, the whole empire will come tumbling down.”

  “What's your plan then?” Dhananjay's eyes lit up with excitement.

  “First let's finish our conversation with Krishnamurti. We'll plan once we know enough.”

  Neel patted Dhananjay's shoulder and they both moved towards Krishnamurti's house.

  “Do the Chandalas and Dalits feel this anger against only the South Kosala upper castes or, do they feel betrayed by the whole Aryan community?” Neel asked the question to carry on the discussion with Krishnamurti.

  “Most of them are in it together. The Chandalas and Dalits from different states are in secret pact with each other.” replied Krishnamurti.

  “This must be a cause of concern to the Aryan kings. This can result in a mutiny and a revolution any time. Are they prepared to combat this internal threat?” asked Dhananjay.

  “Not sure if they are,” replied Krishnamurti adding further, “Aryan rulers have their own problems and internal conflicts. The biggest rift is between Raghuvanshis and Yaduvanshis. Both believe in physical expansion of their state boundaries. Yaduvanshis employ force and raw aggression while Raghuvanshis use tact and shrewdness. Yaduvanshis are losing their fundamental values in the tryst with the army power. The focus has been merely on destroying and capturing other states. Raghuvanshis are exploiting the overtly ambitiousness of Yaduvanshis. They are making it worse by supporting the downward spiral by sprouting corruption in the society to drive it on a path of self-destruction. They pay handsome bribes to senior administrators of South Kosala to promote corruption in the overall system. They are driving our youth get used to prostitution, drugs and gambling.”

  Neel and Dhananjay looked at each other and passed a confirmatory smile as they had already seen the signs of widespread corruption in South Kosala.

  “Many thanks for your valuable time, Krishnamurti ji. You literally helped us scan through all the pages of Aryan Civilization's history. Right now, we have enough to ponder upon and write our thesis. Now we'll roam about in the state and assess the political, economic, and social circumstances here ourselves. If we have any doubt, we'll find our way here again.” Neel got up with folded hands in a gesture of thanks.

  “As you wish. I am happy that both of you are so serious about your research. You are most welcome anytime.”

  Both gratefully walked out.

  “We will have to meet the Vaniks.” said Neel to Dhananjay and Vaishali.

  “Why?” asked Vaishali.

  “We will have to show them the face of reality which they have been ignoring.”

  “Which reality?”

  “The reality of oppression and exploitation. Oppression can't be tolerated for long. Oppressed class often seeks solution in violence and revenge. Their first target is often the rich and affluent class. The indulgences of the affluent class of South Kosala must be arousing envy in them and will surely become the first target of their vengeance. We have to make the Vaniks realise this.” Neel explained.
/>   “But how will we meet Vaniks? And why would they listen to us? For them we are merely some students living on beneficences from them.” asked Dhananjay.

  “Leave that to me. All rich men and their debauchee sons line up before my house.” said Vaishali with a smile of arrogance.

  However, Neel didn't like the way she mentioned her profession, but he knew he had no other option.

  Chapter 19

  Watching Damodar and Amodini in that state sent a bolt of lightning on Shatvari. The whole universe came tumbling down at her head. She was shocked. A stream of tears rolled down from her eyes spontaneously. The love for Damodar was melting down as saline water down her anguished cheeks. Shatvari's moans caught Damodar's attention. He was stunned and didn't know what to do. He wanted to rush and go towards her, but he stayed as he was entwined in the arms of his beloved.

  Shatvari needed nobody to console or explain anything. She started to run. She just ran aimlessly outside the house towards her home. She was cursing the whole universe, all the ideals, all the talk of love and sacrifice. Morals and virtues existed only in the books. Men lived only to fulfil their beastly sensuousness and carnal desires. She loved Damodar like a god. She trusted him at the core of her heart. He not only betrayed her but also the very idea of a sacred bond that ties two souls together. Where was that bond of Shiva and Shakti? Where was that surrendering to Brahma! Everything was a big lie.

  Shatvari decided to leave Sripur and return to her village. She took her essential luggage and left on her journey back home the same day.

  Gunjan dedicated his life to music. He imbibed the insights of philosophy and spirituality into his music and recited the songs of love and social unity to people in simple language. Gradually, people started to follow him. The section of the society that was kept away from the nuances of spirituality and deeper cultural understanding found great insights in his songs. People at the lowest rung of the society found solace in his music and devotional songs. He was looked upon as a social saint. Renowned intellectuals, such as, Shastri ji respected his ideology. On the other hand, fundamentalists, like Pandit Vishvamohan looked at him as an opponent. They took him as a challenge to their orthodox social system.