Song of the Ankle Rings

by Eric Alagan

  ‘The same uncle?’

  ‘No, another. I recall when growing up I had many uncles, all such lovely men. They always brought gifts when they came to discuss matters with my mother.’

  ‘Where are they, your uncles, for I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting them?’

  ‘Oh, as I grew older, they all went away.’

  ‘That’s sad. But why, where?’

  ‘I don’t know, but my mother said it was not appropriate, especially as I had grown into a maiden.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Forgive me, my lord, but let’s not dwell on old cobwebbed things, for they bore. Let us discuss instead your happy visit.’

  ‘There is nothing wonderful to discuss for I came only to ensure you were well. And now my dear wife, Kannagi, waits and I must take my leave.’

  The name of my chaste wife was a balm for my fevered mind. I thanked Kannagi for being with me in spirit and giving strength that few men, if any, could muster when confronted with such an alluring goddess. I rose to leave.

  ‘Do I get to make a wish of you, my lord, before you leave?’

  ‘If it is within my means to grant, yes.’ I remained standing, confident that when the time came, my feet would bear me away.

  ‘Allow me, my lord, to offer you the hospitality of some poor fare for nourishment before you set off.’

  ‘The time is late.’

  ‘It is our custom, my lord, is it not, to offer at least some sweets and drinks to a guest?’

  ‘Very well then, I will have some water, please.’ My mind spun and my legs wanted to bend and set me down. What magic holds me here, I wondered.

  Madhavi gave a sharp clap of her hands and a maid-servant who went by the name of Vasantha-Mala, her anklet jingling a rough melody, arrived with a tray of drinks and dried fruits. Madhavi offered me a cup, and I tasted the drink.

  ‘It is not water you offer.’

  ‘Honour me, my lord, it is wine I selected.’

  ‘And what other skills do you hide?’

  ‘I am a poor working girl, my lord, but stay a moment longer and I shall reveal what little more I possess.’ She clapped her hands again and her maid-servant brought a veena.

  ‘You play music too.’

  ‘Poorly, my lord, and forgive any missteps.’

  Settling herself on a circular divan, Madhavi strummed a haunting tune on the stringed instrument, evoking some yearning of years slipped by.

  I listened, mesmerised. She offered me another cup of wine and also some salted fruits. The salt was a draw and soon my hand reached for the tray as she played more music.

  ‘Join me, my lord, please. I have been working on this piece of music for quite some time now but lack the verses to enrich it. Perhaps you can help.’

  She played the music again and, requiring no further encouragement, I broke into song, fitting to the beat. Together we finished the short but beautiful song. She played another piece of music and again I crafted some spontaneous lyrics. She played yet another piece, and I matched her music with more lines of poetry. There was a hint of competition and I rose to the challenge. After each song, she replenished my goblet, and I drained every refill. Intermingled with the songs, she weaved questions that birthed responses from me.

  ‘Name a bloom that does not need a bee to pollinate and never fades in beauty.’

  ‘The smile that blossoms on the lips of a chaste maiden for the private enjoyment of her husband,’ I said. And so the questions flew fast and teased, and I quite enjoyed the challenge.

  ‘Bards spew paeans of praise on women of delicate beauty thus: Having created thee, Lord Brahma broke the mould. With so many moulds shattered, beauties are as common as rainbows. Is there a better beauty, my lord?’ She leaned forward with a gentle smile, and I took but a moment and sang my reply.

  ‘The Lord Brahma by his hands fashioned you, oh maiden of matchless beauty, and he then stooped to wash his hands in pristine waters. And from the flecks of his fingers sprang all other beauties of the world.’

  Hearing my words, Madhavi clapped. She behaved as a joyous child who had received a novel gift. And her unbridled joy swelled my happiness.

  There were more challenges and teases, and they brought back forgotten memories of my youth, the little dares, and fights even, which I so enjoyed with Kannagi. How much I missed my Kannagi, the person I once knew and loved. I smiled, a sad smile, to myself.

  ‘My lord.’

  ‘Yes?’ I was back in Tree House.

  Madhavi offered a cup of wine, and another and some more. And the wine was sweet too. I grew intoxicated and fell into a blissful sleep. When I woke, it was already in the late hours of the night.

  Resting on Madhavi’s bed, it took a few lazy moments before I realised I was undressed—naked. She was lying beside me asleep, and unclothed too. The kumkuma on her forehead had smeared. My chest betrayed streaks of the pink powder from her pearl-adorned breasts. Horrified by my transgression, I bolted out of bed and pulled on my vestments.

  Madhavi awoke. I expected nothing but anger and outrage from her. Instead, perching herself on an elbow, she gave me a beautiful smile. Her behaviour shocked and confused, and I looked away. But felt my eyes pulled back to her full round breasts. I apologised for staring and again looked away. I did not know what to say, what to do. I had committed such a gross violation, but had no memory, and her next words confounded and frightened.

  ‘We’ve not done anything but as expected of normal married couples.’

  ‘Married?’

  ‘My lord, you placed a garland around my neck.’

  I was speechless and mumbled words of apology and innocence. She reached out, her movement swift, pulled me to her, and pressed her lips to mine. I backed away, but she persisted. Her lips fed ambrosia, and I capitulated.

  I wanted to, tried to, call out Kannagi’s name, but the words stuck in my throat. And with every passing moment, I grew intoxicated as her wet lips clamped over my mouth and her tongue searched within.

  With a strength of will I did not know I possessed, I grabbed a fistful of hair and wrenched her head back. She held my eyes in those half-closed windows of hers, her wet red lips parted and inviting assault.

  I was on the verge of pulling away when my eyes took a second look and my lips crushed hers. We became two desperate swimmers fighting the white waters, gasping and kissing, and twisting into the unruly sheets.

  ‘No!’ With a great shout, I pushed her away and stood up, my chest heaving for breath. ‘No, this is not right.’

  ‘I chose you for my husband the day my eyes settled on you in the king’s great hall.’

  ‘You watched the bidding, from behind the curtains?’

  My voice was careless, as I looked left and right, as if searching for a misplaced article of clothing. I had to keep busy, for my eyes and limbs had minds of their own.

  ‘No, even before the bidding. Our eyes met when I was performing. Do you not recall, for I saw you and you saw me.’

  ‘Yes, I recall the moment.’

  ‘What troubles you, my lord?’

  She stood close, letting her warm scent tease my senses. She searched my eyes, as if besotted, and made me feel I was the centre of her universe. Her lips came close, but I turned away, and she planted a petal soft kiss on my blushing cheek. My legs refused to budge, and all my limbs froze. Her head rested on my sweaty chest and a finger traced a circle around my nipple.

  She was smooth and knew how to arouse me in ways I had never experienced. I recalled the incident in Anandan’s storehouse and the servant-girl working her magic on my friend. I knew now what he must have experienced, but this was pure—and felt right. Madhavi, the angelic maiden men would die for, was the aggressor, the huntress. She gave me a thrill which I admitted without shame I had never received from Kannagi.

  Madhavi’s newness, freshness, and boldness trapped me in warm sweaty embraces. Possessed, I was ready to trade my life for this one encounter. We
fell on the bed and pleasured one another.

  The night grew longer, and the watch cried out the advancing hours. I cursed time, willing it to slow its relentless pace. But dawn invaded and, exhausted, I fell into a deep satisfying sleep, promising myself I would awake soon enough—but did not.

  It was past noon before we awoke and had a late lunch in the bed chamber. After which, we returned to pleasuring one another.

  The thought of Kannagi was always in the back of my mind but every time guilt took hold, a small voice reminded me of the misery encountered in that house and I felt justified. There was nothing in that house but fervent prayers, outlandish rituals, and tears; and fasting which wracked me with guilt and prevented me from enjoying even a simple meal. And when we had physical intimacy, she made me feel as if I was a violator.

  These were all gross exaggerations, but they lent a seductive advocacy exonerating my continued coupling with Madhavi. This goddess of erotica. This goddess of love.

  It was quite late after sunset and when Madhavi and I were again replenishing our strength over a meal, small talk, dangerous talk, wandered here and there.

  ‘You’re kind, my lord, but also reserved, for you disapprove of what I do.’

  ‘I do not disapprove of your dancing. It is a beautiful art and of great divinity, it condenses the essence of our culture and civilisation, and conveys value and worth.’

  ‘You disapprove of my dancing in the public eye, my lord, but I enjoy performing to crowds of eager audiences. These people—accomplished in their own arts and fields of endeavours, famed for their power and wealth and god-given talents—appreciate the nuances of my gestures and poses. They’re my peers, no, they’re my masters, and it gives me great pleasure to invite their plaudits.’

  ‘So you believe your life is more favoured when famous people fawn on you?’

  ‘Yes, my lord, it’s the curse of my art, the curse of my femininity, for my art will flourish hand-in-hand with my youth. But when age burdens me with her company, I will lose my admirers, for finite is the number of times the curtain rises for one in my position.’

  ‘Break the curse then and let one in your admiring throng take you for a wife. Dance only for his pleasure. The praises of your husband are worth more than all the accolades placed at your feet by strangers.’

  ‘Take me then, my lord, declare me your wife and I will dedicate myself and my art for your pleasure alone.’

  She held my hands tight and close to her chest. Her eyes pleaded, desperate with desire and dreams. I tore my eyes away from her and said,

  ‘I must take my leave, Lady Madhavi, for my dear wife, Kannagi, waits anxiously at the threshold for my return.’

  ‘And what is to become of me, my lord, for are we not married?’

  ‘So you claim again, but who bears witness to this matrimony which even I do not recall? We enjoyed ourselves as lovers, and as lovers we shall remain, if you so wish. But for the rest, did I not rescue you from the slimy Greek old enough to be your grandfather and save your honour, and the Cholan’s as well?’

  ‘You saved me from fate and already revelled in the public accolades of the people, and the private rewards of my body.’

  ‘Did I entice you with false promises?’

  ‘So you’ll treat me as a whore, my lord?’

  ‘How can you utter such crass words, especially after we shared so much wonder in so little a time?’

  ‘We shared much, true my lord, and I wish to build a roof with you.’

  ‘You ensconce well under the roof of your mother, Chitra-Vathi, and with servants to attend to your every need.’

  ‘You embrace my words but ignore their meanings, and the woman you speak of is no mother but a fiend, and my servants are but my jailors.’

  ‘Fiend? Jailors? Truly you speak in riddles and I tire of your games, for the day is late and I have not bathed or offered my prayers, as is my practice.’

  ‘My lord, please listen, I beg you, and listen with intent, for the woman, Chitra-Vathi, who masquerades as my mother will sell me to the highest bidder. I am an orphan who knows not my bloodline. She has nurtured me for a single purpose: to profit from my beauty and the practise of my godly arts.’

  ‘Then I shall directly go to King Kari-Kaalan and petition him to stop this travesty for did he not speak well of you? Fear not, Madhavi, for all shall be well.’

  ‘There’s no need to speak to the king and sully his peace, my lord, for by his decree I’ve already embraced you as husband and we consummated our marriage. You’re now not only my patron and protector but also my husband.’

  ‘Enough!’ Then, in a gentler voice, I said, ‘Send me off with a smile, if not a kiss, and I shall retrace my steps back to you. I cannot another night leave my fragile wife alone to face her demons.’

  ‘But is my honour not as fragile as a butterfly’s powdery wings? When you rescued me from the Greek, my lord, did you not know your obligations? Am I a mere chattel?’

  ‘Madhavi, your words are powerful and pierce my heart, but I also know that you are well-versed in the ways of argument. You will not move me. Please step aside, for I must now vacate this place.’

  I rose and did not hide my growing resolve nor the tremor of anger in my voice.

  ‘My lord, your wife Kannagi knows you’re held to your obligations, for did you not say it was with her blessings you arrived? I implore you to stay this night too, and in the morning if your wife’s vision calls, depart freely and turn back not to see this poor wretch.’

  ‘If I remain until another sunrise, then surely my dear Kannagi will keep her doors bolted.’

  ‘Then at her feet I’ll seek forgiveness and swallow all blame and pride, and even poison, if she so prefers. Stay until another sunrise, my lord, and when the time comes for you to depart, go; and if you do not, I will myself bring you by the hand.’

  Years ago, when Anandan enticed with the offer of his servant-girls, the thought of Kannagi gave me resolve, and now in silence I again begged my wife to help resist this temptress.

  But the more my feet dallied, the stronger grew the allure of Madhavi’s bed. I relented, no, capitulated to her spell and fell over the cliff. But a desperate hope made me cling to a blade of grass even as a long-toothed rat gnawed away my resolve.

  ‘Very well, Madhavi, for this one night more I shall enjoy your hospitality but in solitude, for truly the devil’s drink has muddled my mind, and the night has conspired and turned late. Prepare for me a chamber in some quiet corner of the house and I shall spend the night in prayer until sleep tricks me to slumber.’

  ‘Why do you treat me so poorly, my lord, for your words tear me asunder as they spew judgements already made regarding my chastity. Is this dharma?’

  ‘Enough! It will be as I say or not at all.’

  ‘I am a poor girl with no recourse, my lord, and so it shall be as you say.’

  That night, I prayed, telling myself that if I could but survive the night in seclusion, I would have broken her spell, for she had indeed worked well some magic. But alas, the breeze too had its agenda and made the curtain billow and bring soft music to my ears.

  Before long, my feet carried me along the petal-strewn corridor to Madhavi’s lamp-lit chamber. Her door, no more than dancing drapes, was inviting. My hand pulled the curtain aside, and I caught whiffs of Margosa and white mustard wafting past to ward off evil spirits, and also sweet incense to titillate the senses.

  I beheld the goddess of erotica reclining on her bed, one knee raised and a hand behind her head, her eyes closed. Her shaven armpit, a clean smooth mound, set my heart thumping loud. It reminded me of more erotic secrets within the hood of her pubis, which whispered promises of blissful pleasure.

  As I stood feasting my eyes, a song escaped my lips. She heard me and, opening her eyes, smiled and held out inviting arms. In a slow and smooth movement, I allowed myself into her embrace and buried my face in her armpit. My tongue slipped out and relished her taste, and she sang her m
oans even as her fingers searched.

  And so it was with us, that day and for many more days thereafter.

  My time with Madhavi flew past in a dizzying pace, and days melded into weeks, and weeks into months and a year or more passed. In my pensive moments, the thought of Kannagi surfaced and drove me to dark corners of the house and crevices of my guilt. But again and again Madhavi drew me to the sanctuary of her soft scented folds.

  10: Attempt at Reconciliation

  ANANDAN CAME TO TREE House with news of his long-delayed journey to Araby.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll return a fabulously wealthy man and make a worthy maiden happy as your wife,’ I said.

  ‘Well, one never knows what the bend in the path brings, dear friend Kovalan,’ said Anandan and he laughed. ‘But for now, I shall journey to the Araby deserts and taste their sweet dates, those hanging from trees and hiding behind veils.’

  ‘Could you, Anandan sir, grant me a favour?’ asked Madhavi. ‘A hope cherished and dear to my heart. I hesitate, for you have already done much for me and my art.’

  ‘Speak your mind, Lady Madhavi.’

  ‘Please convey my invitation to elder sister Kannagi to visit Tree House, to receive a respectful welcome with all proper formalities. It is past overdue and I yearn for us to meet.’

  Madhavi expressing her wish to meet Kannagi, without consulting me, shocked and annoyed. But I hid my misgivings and let matters take their course.

  Anandan, who had sensed my disquiet, said, ‘As she is your elder sister, as you yourself just now acknowledged, should you not be the one calling on her?’

  ‘I fear for my reception, but inform elder sister Kannagi that my need is a mere pin’s head space in the lowest realms of her big heart and I shall gladly take a distant second to her, who is and will always remain the first wife.’

  ‘You’ve chosen your messenger shrewdly,’ said Anandan, ‘for I love her as my dear sister, and shall do my best to entreat her with all suitable words of reason and rally. I have mustered my caravan for an early departure, but shall call on my dear sister Kannagi in the morning and send word back to you by runner.’