Nala was struck speechless by this decree, his heart giving way to despair. How could he woo the mistress of his heart when he had been ordered to promote the devas’ cause instead? And how would an earthly maiden, courted by the gods, settle for a mortal? He was lost! His love was destined to fail. He would give up his life rather than eke out his remaining days without the radiant princess by his side. Was there anything he could do, anything he could say to escape his awful dilemma?
2
A Clash with the Gods
King Nala realized that this was a battle beyond all battles, one that would determine his life and his happiness. He could not imagine losing the princess whose vision haunted his every moment, whether he was awake or asleep. He had to find a way to divert these fierce gods so that they would not snatch away his heart’s desire. There was nothing he would not do to win his Damayanti, come what may.
The king of Nishada gathered his wits together and politely demurred. ‘I am going to the swayamvara myself as a suitor, great Indra,’ he said. ‘Take pity on this humble mortal and return to the heavens, or at least find another messenger to speak for you.’
However, Indra was adamant on holding Nala to his promise.
‘How will I enter her palace when she is surrounded by fierce guards?’ Nala asked next, but the god told him that he would render him invisible so that he could sail past all hurdles.
The next instant, Nala found himself standing near Damayanti’s crystal palace with its colourful mosaics, set like a jewel amid cool fountains and brilliant flower beds. A bevy of laughing maidens was playing in the arbour and they froze where they stood when the balls they were tossing around rebounded after hitting him. Others bumped into his invisible form and drew back in surprise. They whispered excitedly, pointing to the footprints he left on the flowers scattered on the floor. One came boldly towards him and gasped when she saw her own reflection on his invisible crown and ornaments. Was there magic afoot or were they in danger from an unknown intruder?
Then they glimpsed Nala’s divine form reflected in the lotus pond and knew that it was time to alert their mistress. One of them called out to Damayanti in a trembling voice and Nala stood motionless, waiting to set eyes on the entrancing princess.
‘What is it?’ carolled a koel, or so it seemed to the besotted king. Damayanti pushed aside the silken curtains hanging across the entrance to her palace and emerged, gleaming like a full moon in a midnight sky. In her hands she held a festoon of red roses, for she had been imagining the scene of her swayamvara when she would cast her garland around Nala’s neck. She tossed the festoon playfully before her as she danced forward and gasped as it fell around his neck and disappeared from sight. She herself came up against his rock-hard chest and felt his powerful arms gathering her close.
Nala was ecstatic as he clasped this delicate bundle to his heart. He looked down upon her fair face, dewy fresh like a jasmine bud. Her slender body was soft and yielding, draped in a snow-white robe embroidered with glowing rubies. In his mind he heard minstrels singing odes to the beautiful princess of Kundina and her quest for love. He held on feverishly to the maiden, though he knew that he would have to let her go. His mind was swamped by signals sent by his heated senses and he forgot the mantra that Indra had asked him to chant. His form gradually materialized before Damayanti’s dazed eyes. She stared at the handsome stranger and wondered if he was god or gandharva. He gazed entranced into her eyes that glittered like clear pools nestled amid snowy Himalayan peaks.
But then Nala’s righteousness asserted itself and he dropped his hands from around her body. She staggered and her maids rushed forward to support her in their arms.
‘Forgive my trespass into your bower, fair princess,’ he said, his voice manly and resonant. ‘I am Nala, king of Nishada, here to do the bidding of the gods. Indra, Yama, Varuna and Agni wish you to choose one of them as your husband. Give me your answer at once, I pray, so that I may leave your presence before I give in to my yearning and beg you to consider my claim to your hand instead!’
So this was the gallant warrior that Gagana had described so vividly! Damayanti’s heart was filled with rapture. But first she must give him her answer to be conveyed to the gods. ‘I fell in love with you the moment Gagana described you and told me of your resolve to wed me!’ she said, fixing eloquent eyes on his face. ‘I will marry none but you, King Nala, and entreat you not to give up your suit, regardless of all obstacles, human or divine.’
Nala’s eyes flashed with joy in response to her bold words, but then despair clouded his mind again. ‘How can a mortal ever hope to win against the celestials, divine one?’ he asked.
But Damayanti was unwavering in her decision. ‘Love is beyond any other considerations,’ she declared. ‘So let us take a vow together that our union will be sanctified, not sacrificed. Remember that I orchestrated this swayamvara only so that I could marry you. If you love me as you say you do, you will present yourself at the assembly. I will choose you and hence you will bear no blame!’
Nala’s heart surged with hope as he watched her speak so bravely. He longed to feel her soft lips under his own. He drank in her beauty for one long moment and then turned reluctantly to carry her reply to the devas.
As he had feared, Indra was incensed by Damayanti’s reply and thundered at the messenger: ‘You have kept your word only in letter and not in spirit. Now I will do what has to be done!’
Nala quailed, for he knew that there was nothing beyond Indra’s powers. But he would go to the swayamvara regardless. He would fight for his love until his last breath.
The sun rose over Kundinapur on the auspicious day, making its temples, palaces and mansions gleam like pink onyx. Bhima’s ancestors had built the city with a wonderful granite stone that took on a rich rose-red sheen in the morning light. The huge bronze gates of the city were thrown open to let in the magnificent suitors with their glittering retinues. Princes, kings and gods made their way eagerly to their appointed places within the vast enclosure prepared for the event. Trumpets blared to announce the arrival of King Bhima on an elephant, followed by a column of foot soldiers and richly-robed bearers carrying the princess in a bejewelled palanquin.
The proud father descended from his mount as the bearers set down the palanquin facing the row of suitors. He pulled aside the curtains and helped his daughter step out in front of the impatient audience. The music hushed. The suitors gasped in awe when they caught their first glimpse of the radiant Damayanti, clad in a shimmering silver sari and adorned with fine jewels, her face as charming as the pink lotus blooming in Indra’s garden. The heralds began to read out the names and achievements of the various suitors gathered there. But Damayanti’s mind was focused on one man alone. Where was he? Where was her Nala?
Damayanti was unable to spot the king of Nishada among those who courted her. For a moment, her heart froze in panic. What could she do if he was not present? She felt faint at the very thought. Once more she scanned the faces before her.
Then she saw him! Her beloved Nala stood mid-way down the line, his eyes fixed on her face. He had come, her noble lover who had enchanted her when he had met her in her perfumed garden!
Then she looked again, rubbing her eyes in disbelief, for there was not just one Nala, but five! Was it her fevered imagination conjuring up false visions to delude her? If there were five Nalas facing her, how would she find the true one?
Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of her strange predicament. The gods knew that she loved Nala and intended to choose him as her groom. They must have taken his form in order to confound her, hoping that she would mistakenly garland one of them. What was she to do now? What if she erred and chose one of the false Nalas? She would be queen of the heavens, no doubt, as consort of one of the gods. But she wanted only her Nala who ruled her heart.
Damayanti felt faint as she wrestled with the dilemma. Her maid softly dabbed at her face and looked worriedly at her. The princess wondered if she shoul
d turn back to her palanquin and return to her palace. But no, the visiting kings and gods would consider it a grave insult and turn their wrath on her father. She took a few deep breaths and attempted to calm her mind. This was not the time to panic. She looked closely again at the five identical faces before her. How did one distinguish a mortal from the gods? There were signs that she should look for, she knew. The gods did not blink, while men did. But alas, all her suitors were staring at her wide-eyed, unable to remove their gaze from her face for even a moment. What else? They said that the devas did not sweat and that their garlands were unfading. Was there a nervous sweat beading the face of the Nala who stood in the centre of the line? Yes! And his garland had wilted too in the fierce heat of the sun. Her heart thudded within her as she gazed intently at the suitor she thought was the real Nala.
The princess took a step forward and then another. She homed in on the man who was now smiling triumphantly at her. She raised the garland in her hands.
Then she heard a gasp, quickly suppressed, from the Nala standing to the right of the one she had chosen. She stole a glance at him and realized that this man too was sweating and staring at her with an agonized face. Further, the flowers in his garland also seemed to be fading fast. Was she making a mistake? She saw the gloating look on the face of the man she had chosen first and reeled. This was not the humble, loving face of the suitor who had visited her in her garden and clasped her in his arms! This man appeared to be too proud, too brazen. Should she trust her instincts and back away from this one and choose the other? Her heart pounded as if it would burst.
Then Damayanti saw that the man standing before her cast no shadow, unlike the other one. She had almost forgotten this last aspect—that men cast shadows while the gods do not. No doubt, the devious Indra had tried to fool her by faking some signs. She took a quick step to the side and garlanded the one she thought was the real Nala. For a moment, time stood still. She waited anxiously wondering if he would reveal himself to be one of the gods. But no. It was her beloved king who stood looking at her with his adoration evident in his loving eyes, his charming face. Kama attacked them again with his arrows, filling the air with the fragrance of love. Nala saw before him the apsara whose radiant face had kept him awake through the long nights, her brow adorned with sandal paste, her lips speaking words of passion that only he could hear. It seemed to Damayanti’s fevered brain that Nala’s splendour had driven the most glorious aspects of nature into hiding. Seeing his radiant face, the sun disappeared behind the clouds. The lion sped into the jungle, frightened by the majesty of his form. And lightning flashed once before it vanished, seeing the brilliance of his smile. They had found each other again against all odds. No one could keep them apart until the end of their days on earth . . .
And then, their reverie was broken by loud voices, raised in protest or in celebration. The gods had resumed their real forms and were angry that their subterfuge had failed. The herald tried to make his voice heard above the tumult to announce that the princess had chosen King Nala of Nishada as her groom. Trumpets and bugles blared, adding to the frenzy of the cheering throngs.
When the noise abated slightly, Nala placed his palm over his chest and made a solemn vow to Damayanti. ‘Peerless one!’ he said. ‘You have chosen me, a mere mortal, setting aside the claims of the mighty gods. You have elected to rule over my heart when you could have reigned over the three realms. How can I ever match your faith, O Damayanti! All that I can promise in return is that I will be eternally true to you. I vow before this august gathering, before the radiant gods, that I will always remain faithful to our love, as long as life and spirit animate this body.’
She bowed her head to honour his promise and moved to stand proudly by his side. The two looked to the gods, ready to face their wrath. Indra’s eyes sparked with fury as he saw that all his ploys to win the maiden had failed.
‘King Bhima! You have offended us!’ he roared. ‘You invited us to your daughter’s swayamvara knowing well that she planned to spurn us and choose a mortal. You will face our rage and so will your people. I will smite your kingdom with drought and pestilence, turning your fruitful fields and orchards into barren deserts. You will soon rue the day the princess insulted us.’
Hearing his harsh words, the crowds cried out in fear and despair. Their celebration was turning rapidly into a lament. What would they do if the gods scourged them? How would they survive if the elements turned against them?
Damayanti spoke up then, interceding for her people. It was not right that they should pay the price for her choice. She joined her hands in worship. ‘Mighty gods!’ she said. ‘I venerate you for blessing our land with good fortune and abundance. I beseech you to understand that my choosing Nala over you is out of love for him rather than disrespect for you. I have lived for this day, pining for my king from the moment the golden swan spoke to me of his valour and his love. I have been faithful to him in thought and deed and believe that it is our destiny to be together. Exalted gods, let go of your wrath and bless us and our people. Spread your mantle of protection over us, I beg you!’
King Bhima joined her in her appeal as did Nala. The commoners too prostrated themselves before the celestials who finally allowed their reverence to calm their rage. They raised their hands in benediction over them. They gave Nala several boons in order to make him even more worthy of Damayanti’s love. Indra blessed him with the speed of a god and said that the couple would have two perfect children. Varuna granted him the power to summon water whenever he wanted and to endow freshness on flowers with a mere touch. Agni gave him the ability to summon fire at will and to be impervious to its fury. Yama endowed him with unrivalled virtue and the skill to cook dishes that would be as delightful as ambrosia.
Tragedy had been averted by Damayanti’s piety and honesty, and the gods returned to heaven, well pleased with the outcome, though they had not been successful in claiming her hand. It seemed that love had triumphed and Nala and Damayanti would live happily ever after.
3
Kali and Dwapara
Nala’s wedding with Damayanti was celebrated with such pomp and pageantry that all earth appeared to be agog with excitement. Singers, dancers, jugglers and magicians entertained the royal guests. Grand banquets were laid out with an array of delicacies made by the best cooks in the kingdom. Banners, festoons and jasmine garlands decorated all the public places and households. Damayanti was dressed in gorgeous red silk and adorned from head to foot with splendid jewels. Nala was resplendent as he came to the marriage hall on a caparisoned elephant, followed by minstrels and by dancers who were as beautiful as the apsaras in Indra’s court.
When the bridal couple looked at each other in the wedding pavilion, their hearts pounded with joy so intense that they felt faint. The priests chanted the marriage mantras, the sacred fire burned bright. The priests sanctified their union amid a shower of rose petals from the devas in heaven and the elders on earth. One by one, the royal women waved lamps before the couple to ward off the evil eye, for no one had seen such a glorious pair before. After a brief stay in Vidarbha, the newlyweds left for Nishada with their retinue, laden with gifts.
Unknown to them though, a storm was brewing in the unseen realm above.
Kali and Dwapara, evil spirits who presided over the dark yugas, exploded in fury when they found out that they were too late to win Damayanti’s hand. ‘How can the princess choose a human instead of one of us?’ ranted Kali. ‘We must avenge this grave insult to the celestials! I will strike Nala and his people down with disease and discord, and enmesh them in hatred and anger.’
It seemed that the happy life of the newlyweds would end before it had even started. Damayanti found her happiness disturbed by terrifying visions of impending disaster, of sorrow and separation from her Nala.
Fortunately, Indra took up their cause against Kali as he did not like the demon challenging his decision to bless the king and his bride. ‘Bhima’s daughter has been honest about her
love for Nala and the two have worshipped the gods with all reverence,’ said Indra. ‘You may not set your will against ours, Kali, or attempt to harm them in any way out of malice. If you do so, your evil actions will rebound on you and you will suffer in the fires of the netherworld.’
Though deterred by the threat, Kali was unwilling to let go of his rancour. He followed Nala to his kingdom, waiting for an opportune moment to harm him. The demon’s nature was to oppose truth, mercy and everything that was righteous. He promoted violence, hatred and envy, and drew his power from men who indulged their baser instincts through unbridled sex, gambling and drinking. But Nala was wedded to dharma and ruled wisely and well. His people prospered under his benign eye and were virtuous, keeping Kali at bay with auspicious pujas, yagnas and the chanting of sacred mantras. Unable to enter Nishada, Kali still waited for something inauspicious to happen. And he knew just the right person through whom he could wreak his evil plans.
The newlywed couple had stepped into a charmed world which no one else could enter. In this domain, words held no meaning and all that mattered was a touch, a smile or a languid lowering of the eyes. Nala’s kingdom was flourishing, his ministers governed well. He told her that he had no enemies to conquer—except her shyness. ‘Oh, where have you hidden the princess who boldly accepted my wooing and flouted the gods?’ Nala teased her. ‘Where is the dauntless Damayanti who proclaimed her love before the assembled throng, ready to face death or worse?’
She smiled but made no attempt to answer, her body trembling as it travelled a new path to an ecstatic death of another kind. Each day was now a sensual exploration and each night a rhapsody of delight. They played exquisite games that made sense only to them, enhancing their joy when they finally came together. One day, she strolled in the garden speaking to her maid, pretending not to hear his soft call of love. He came up to her and touched her hand but she withdrew it quickly and bent over her parakeet, stroking its soft feathers. Alas, the bird betrayed her, for it echoed the words he had spoken to her the previous night and the moans and sighs she had uttered in reply! ‘Oh, hush!’ she whispered as she stuffed the bird’s mouth with pomegranate seeds, whose pink colour rivalled the blush on her cheeks.
Prem Purana Page 21