The One Who Swam with the Fishes

Home > Other > The One Who Swam with the Fishes > Page 13
The One Who Swam with the Fishes Page 13

by Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan


  ‘So,’ he says, finally, ‘Lady Satyavati. I suppose you know what you are asking for will rob me of my inheritance.’

  ‘It was never my inten—’

  ‘No, save it. It was your intention, whether you admit to it or not, and a clever move as well. You’re not what I expected you to be, nor do you look like someone capable of such political machinations. I’m thinking an older brother – no, he would have been here. An uncle then, or your father?’

  I flush and cross my arms and he laughs. ‘Your father then. A man for the main chance. I assume your father and my father will get along quite well.’ He runs one hand under his chin and looks at me again, his eyebrows raised.

  ‘No, you’re really quite lovely, Satyavati. I can see why my father is – at this very moment – wasting away from love of you. All he says though, is, “Son, I cannot give in to her demands.” You see, he’s hoping I’ll give in to your demands, so that he can have you guilt-free. Never underestimate the way your parents can twist your needs to suit theirs. Here, I’ll give you one piece of advice for your married life, and only one piece – understand me, this will be the last time I comment on the subject – my father is very good at getting what he wants. Remember that when he is your husband. Now’ – he comes right up to me and tilts my face up and I am weak in the knees, thinking he means to kiss me, but he only looks into my eyes and asks, his voice kinder than it has been before, the same question I have heard from two men before him – ‘are you sure you want this?’

  ‘Yes,’ I breathe, not sure what I’m agreeing to. He lets go of me, to my utter disappointment, and sighs deeply.

  ‘Well, hear this, Lady Satyavati, for it will be the most solemn oath I have ever given. You may marry my father and your children may take over my throne. I give it up for him – not for you, remember that – but for him, so that he can know happiness.’

  ‘What about your children, Highness?’ asks Chiro unexpectedly. I didn’t even know he was listening, and there he is, looking shrewder than his age, still sitting on the bed, turning over the little chauper piece in his hand.

  ‘What’s that, young man?’

  ‘I ask, what of your children? My sister’s children may have their throne, but what if your children wish to dispute them?’

  Is this my brother? My little brother? I gape at him, and he glances briefly at me before turning his eyes to the prince again.

  The prince laughs once, shortly. ‘I see your father passes on his thoughts to his son.’

  ‘It is a good question,’ I say weakly.

  ‘It is.’ The prince regards us both thoughtfully. ‘Very well. I shall never marry. I shall never have a child who will be in line for the throne.’

  ‘Highness,’ says a guard I haven’t noticed up till then, coming forward with his hand stretched out to the prince. ‘Highness, think of what you are saying.’

  ‘I am. I have given this as much thought as I can. Besides’ – his mouth turns up in a wry little smile – ‘my father’s happiness is my duty.’

  ‘Say it again,’ says Chiro.

  ‘Chiro!’ I want to stop him before we are both whipped for impertinence.

  ‘Again? In front of the gods?’ The prince walks away from both of us outside the tent and we follow hurriedly, me yanking up my heavy skirt so I don’t trip.

  There, standing outside, surrounded by curious faces, Devavrata says, ‘I, Prince Devavrata, son of His Majesty, King Shantanu, and the great goddess Ganga, swear on all that is holy that I shall never marry nor have a child, so I may devote my services to Lady Satyavati’s children, and their children after them.’

  A lightning crack whips across the sky, making us all gasp. And then, just the softest rain, and the lightest whisper from the trees. Bheeshma, says the whisper, Bheeshma.

  Bheeshma. The one of the terrible oath.

  Have I really heard it? Is this really happening? I look around me. Chiro’s face is rapt and my girls – Pari, Mo, Ila – turn to me as one, their eyes alight. Pari’s face is troubled but she smiles for me, they will all smile for me now. I am Satyavati and I have reached my destiny.

  Then

  It was eight moons since I returned from the island, and it was as though I never left at all. When I walked in, shaken and silent from all that had happened to me, my mother met me at the door. ‘You’ve been a long time,’ was all she said, and then she looked more closely at me. ‘Are you feeling ill? You have a strange expression on your face. Better sleep outside if you are, I don’t want Chiro catching it.’

  It was like nothing had changed, even though everything had. No one mentioned my smell, the way I used to look. But my mother was kinder to me, and when my father said I must be named again, she looked up and suggested Satyavati as a name she had always liked, as though it came from her very own head.

  Only Chiro looked at me warily, avoided being around me, barely spoke two words to me at all. Finally, I cornered him when our mother was away and I was serving him lunch.

  ‘No words for me, your sister?’ I teased.

  ‘Are you my sister?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, what a question! Who else would I be?’

  ‘I have heard of spirits who enter young women and take on their appearance to fool their families.’

  ‘Chiro.’ I sat down and wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his flinch. ‘I am no spirit. Don’t they have to admit they’re not human once they’re found out? I’m your sister, same as I’ve always been. Where is all this coming from?’

  He avoided looking at me although he relaxed in my arms. ‘You were just away for so long.’

  I stilled then and very slowly met his eyes. ‘You know I was away.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ He shook his head as though to clear it. ‘You went away after Ma threw you out. I asked about you, but no one answered my questions. And now you are back and everyone’s acting like you never left.’

  ‘That’s magic.’ I said. ‘It was supposed to work on you as well.’

  ‘I felt like’ – he reached for his forehead as he searched for the words – ‘I felt like I was supposed to think you leaving was like a dream. Every memory I have of the time you weren’t here is – I don’t know – coated, so I cannot clearly remember anything. But you were gone?’

  A question. I couldn’t lie to him. I nodded. ‘But don’t mention this to anyone.’

  ‘No chance! They’d think I was mad.’

  ‘Not mad.’ I pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

  ‘Will you tell me where you went?’

  ‘One day I will.’

  Now

  The king reaches for my hand. We are wedded, a simple ceremony on the banks of the river, my father pressing my cupped palms on top of my husband’s. I am queen.

  Then

  ‘The king will be passing through here on a hunting trip,’ my father said to my mother.

  ‘Oh?’ she said, not interested, cleaning the fish which I was to dip into a saltwater bath and then dry.

  ‘I think he would make a good husband for our daughter.’

  She did look up then, and at him, shaking her head and going back to her work.

  ‘No, don’t dismiss me, wife. We have long known her destiny was not with us.’

  ‘Is her destiny to be a queen then?’ My mother laughed and gestured at me, my palms dry from the salt bath, my hair hanging in front of my face.

  ‘It might be.’

  I remembered Parashara’s words. You will know. It struck me with icy certainty, as though someone had poured cold water down my back. So this was what Fate had in store for me – not the quiet left-alone life I longed for, but this. I gasped, and my parents turned to look at me.

  ‘I would like to marry the king, Ba,’ I said to my father. ‘How will we manage it?’

  ‘Listen to the girl,’ said my mother, shaking her head again. ‘You’re all touched.’

  But my father looked at me seriously and said, ‘You will have to do as I say.’
>
  ‘I will.’

  ‘Then we will manage it.’

  Now

  They have come for me in a palanquin so delicate that I’m scared to sit in it in case I break it. Not for me the joys of riding back to Hastinapur with the rest of the camp. I must be carried like a precious jewel, my maids following by cart, my young footman – Baana, I knew I would be able to do well by you – riding by us.

  Chiro is the only one who weeps as I say goodbye to my parents, touching first my father’s feet then my mother’s. I hug him fiercely and tell him I’ll send for him soon.

  And then I am placed in the palanquin, gently as an egg, and the curtains are drawn for my privacy and no one can see what I do inside – which is kick off my slippers and lie there looking up at the bejewelled roof. The horses’ hooves behind me and in front of me kick out a rhythm: destiny, destiny, destiny.

  We go by the river, and I cannot resist drawing the curtain just a little bit to see if my island is there. It was never visible again after I’d left it, whenever I looked, but this time, oh, there’s just the faintest glimmer on the other side. If I listen hard, I can hear drum beats coming across the water to me, as though the whole island is celebrating my wedding.

  Then, when I blink and look again, it’s gone.

  I have seen fourteen rains and never did I feel older than I do now.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks, first of all, to the artists and writers behind the Amar Chitra Katha comic book series from the 80s and 90s, which got me interested in the story of the Mahabharata, because they told everything in a lucid and interesting way. As an adult, I turned to Ramesh Menon’s brilliant modern retelling of the epic, and used that as a base off of which I catapulted, so thanks is due there too. I also read Yuganta: The End of an Epoch by Irawati Karve, and my copy is heavily underlined and annotated, because it sparked so many ideas in my head.

  Ameya, former editor, current friend, sat across from me at a Chili’s and helped me with the first few roots that this idea took. Another former editor and current friend, Manasi helped me develop the idea as a series and not only got as excited as I did, but also commissioned the books. Thanks to them both.

  My current editor, Sohini, for back and forths on Satyavati’s motivations and ‘what she’d actually do’ which were invaluable.

  Miscellaneous support was provided by my excellent, varied, collection of friends: Nayantara, Samit, Sam, Mansha, Ishi, Meghna and Ginny, who are always excited for my new projects, whether it’s book one or book six.

  My mum, who is my number one fan.

  And obviously, Kian.

  About the Book

  Who is Satyavati? Truth-teller. Daughter of water. Child of apsara and king. Cursed from birth. Fish-smell girl.

  Growing up as a girl in the Vedic age is anything but easy — and even harder for the future Queen of Hastinapur, the kingdom of all kingdoms. She must contend with magic islands, difficult sages, calculating foster parents, sexual awakening and loneliness. Even when she is at the threshold of the capital, King Shantanu, smitten though he is with her, already has a crown prince from his marriage with a goddess. Young Satyavati must walk on thorns to reach her destiny in a world ruled by men.

  One of young India’s most feisty voices, Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan coaxes the lessei-known girls of the Mahabharata out of the shadows. Now watch them flare up and take on their worlds.

  About the Author

  Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan was born in Hyderabad, but grew up in New Delhi, where she currently lives with her partner and their three cats. Formerly a journalist, Madhavan’s first book You Are Here was commissioned in 2007 on the basis of her hugely popular blog Compulsive Confessions. Since then, Madhavan has written three more novels – two for young adults – and a collection of short stories, as well as contributed to several anthologies. She also writes essays and columns for a variety of publications. The One Who Swam with the Fishes is her sixth book and her first foray into mythology-inspired writing.

  TALK TO US

  Join the conversation on Twitter

  http://twitter.com/HarperCollinsIN

  Like us on Facebook to find and share posts about our books with your friends

  http://www.facebook.com/HarperCollinsIndia

  Follow our photo stories on Instagram

  http://instagram.com/harpercollinsindia/

  Get fun pictures, quotes and more about our books on Tumblr

  http://www.tumblr.com/blog/harpercollinsindia

  First published in India in 2017 by

  HarperCollins Publishers India

  Copyright © Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan 2017

  P-ISBN 978-93-5264-424-7

  Epub Edition © June 2017 ISBN: 978-93-5264-425-4

  2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1

  Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan asserts the moral right

  to be identified as the author of this work.

  This is a work of fiction and all characters and incidents described in this book are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under The Copyright Act, 1957. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers India.

  Cover design: Tanya Vyas

  www.harpercollins.co.in

  HarperCollins Publishers

  A-75, Sector 57, Noida, Uttar Pradesh 201301, India

  1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF, United Kingdom

  Hazelton Lanes, 55 Avenue Road, Suite 2900, Toronto, Ontario M5R 3L2

  and 1995 Markham Road, Scarborough, Ontario M1B 5M8, Canada

  25 Ryde Road, Pymble, Sydney, NSW 2073, Australia

  195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007, USA

 

 

 


‹ Prev