The Boy From Pataliputra

by Rahul Mitra

  “Aditya! Aditya!” It was Brihadratha.

  Aditya was now thrown into utter confusion. Composing himself, he turned around and affecting an expression of complete surprise, went over and stammered out his joy at finding Brihadratha there. He was introduced to Devika, who now acknowledged him with a smile that instantly set his pulse racing.

  Brihadratha seemed delighted to see him again, and they chatted for a long time. Aditya told them about his job and Brihadratha invited him to his house for Teej celebrations, which were to be held next month. He would have the formal invitation sent to Aditya’s place of work later. With a show of politeness, Aditya accepted, and then excusing himself, he hurried home.

  When Rishabha got back, he discovered Aditya all alone in their little room, laughing like a madman. That night, Aditya again took him out to dinner, and told him all about his little love story.

  ***

  Rishabha had told him that women liked muscular, strong men and so when Devika came to the udyaan the next evening, she found Aditya wound up in a ball, doing some kind of yogic asana. His right leg was entangled behind his neck, his arms were clasped together behind his back, and his head which protruded forward from under his legs stared wildly at her with a distressed expression. It looked like he had locked himself into this ridiculous shape.

  She burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The unwieldy mass of arms and head and legs and feet disentangled itself, and miraculously achieved a human shape. It was Aditya. He looked suitably miffed.

  “What on earth were you trying to do?” asked Devika amid peals of laughter. She was standing in front of him, all alone. No companion this time.

  “What do you think I was trying to do? It’s a yoga position recommended by Patanjali,” said Aditya.

  “What? You come all this way to exercise in this garden?”

  “No . . . no,” said Aditya, “why would I come here to exercise?” He had gotten up and was brushing the dirt from his dhoti. His eyes scanned the distance behind her and he quickly came to the conclusion that she was alone today. His heart started beating faster. His voice quavered.

  Devika was thoroughly enjoying herself.

  “So you weren’t exercising? Then what were you doing, kind Sir?” she asked in a mock serious tone.

  Aditya now drew himself up to his full height.

  “Well, Madam, didn’t you see for yourself? I was merely trying to scratch my ears, according to the prescription of Acharya Patanjali.”

  “You mean to say this is how Acharya Patnajali scratched himself when his ears itched?”

  “Of course! How else do you think he would scratch himself when his palms were clasped together during meditation? He wouldn’t want to lose concentration and fritter away all the yogic benefits he’d got would he? That’s why he invented the ‘khujliasana’,” Aditya replied with the most solemn expression he could muster.

  She dissolved into laughter.

  “So you were meditating? Pray what were you meditating on, O great soul?” asked Devika. Her eyes flashed mischief as her lips curled up in a devastating smile.

  “Now why would I meditate when I already know the secrets of creation?” said Aditya. His confidence was growing with each passing moment.

  “If you were not meditating then why on earth didn’t you use your hands to scratch your ears?”

  “In case you did not notice, Madam, they were busy scratching my back.”

  “Aaah, I see.” She dissolved into another fit of giggles and Aditya’s heart leapt about inside his body.

  “Well, kind Sir, will you walk with me then? But you have to promise not to strike that pose again while you are walking with me. I have a reputation to maintain you know.”

  “Of course I understand Madam. But I couldn’t very well be seen with you in public, you know. Even I have a reputation to maintain. But then,” he rolled his eyes up and shrugged his shoulders for effect, “I am a great soul after all, so I would not want to hurt your feelings.”

  It seemed to him that they had been made for each other. They both found the same things odd and hilarious, she got all his jokes and what’s more, she gave back as good as she got. Over the rest of the evening, they talked about many different things and every topic they touched, seemed to be new and exciting and funny.

  Aditya felt intoxicated; a strange exhilaration had caught hold of his being. He could not get enough of her nose which he made fun of, her bouts of girlish, uncontrolled giggles, her curls and her habit of flicking those curls off her face. He drank deep with his eyes and his spirit, and was thoroughly disappointed when she had to leave.

  They parted ways at dusk and Aditya half-ran half-walked all the way back to his house. Strangely, he was not the least bit tired. Instead, every pore in his body was bursting with energy and excitement. The room did not seRishabha was equally excited to hear the news and over the next prahar, they discussed the meeting threadbare. Every detail was recounted, every gesture, every topic of conversation was examined. Advice was given, conclusions were drawn, and opinions about Devika were formed. The future course of action was discussed in much detail and that night. Aditya went to sleep with a smile on his face.

  Over the next few days, Aditya met Devika every evening. Her erstwhile companion had vanished, and they met and talked alone and undisturbed. It was a magical time. She would start giggling uncontrollably just on seeing him, and he would also start laughing without a single word having been spoken. He opened up his heart to her, and she to him. They talked about their childhood experiences, their likes and dislikes, their ambitions, and their deepest regrets.

  For Aditya, this was a golden period. His past seemed left far behind, and his whole day went by, waiting for only those few delightful hours that he would spend laughing and talking with her. He was floating on air.

  em big enough to contain his exhilaration.

  Teej

  Shraavan had arrived. Dark, tumultous clouds blocked out the sun and covered the heavens as far as the eye could see. The smell of wet earth hung in the air as cool, moisture laden winds blew through the treetops. It was mid-day but in the fading light, the rapture of man and nature made it seem as if it was dusk. Teej celebrations were on, in full swing at Brihadratha’s house.

  Lavish arrangements had been made. A huge pandal had been erected in a garden nearby. The rustling of silk and the flash of diamonds, pearls, and gold filled the air as the rich and powerful of Takshashila hobnobbed with each other. Servants made their way through the crowds, plying the guests with various drinks. The entire place was swarming with people. Musicians, singers, and dancers had also been invited and a number of performances were set to take place at the floral platform erected inside the pandal.

  Behind the main structure, an even more boisterous celebration was going on. Huge swings had been suspended from the branches of a banyan tree and spirited young women swung on them. Other women sat in a circle nearby beating drums and singing songs welcoming the rains, while two young girls occupied the middle of the circle, dancing in gay abandon.

  Brihadratha himself stood near the entrance, personally welcoming the guests. Aditya had strategized through the night with Rishabha about how to impress the parents, but now got to exchange only a few words with Brihadratha.

  “Aah! The big shot trader himself! Come, come my son,” he drew Aditya near, as if he was going to tell him something confidential. “You must enjoy yourself today,” he whispered to Aditya and then with a pat on his back and a merry wink, he was off to welcome the latest arrivals.

  Bhaang, madhu, sura and all manner of intoxicating drinks were being served along with cooling, non-alcoholic drinks. Aditya picked up one of the clay cups and slinked to the edges of the crowd, observing the people around him with curiosity and envy. Everyone seemed to know everyone else. They greeted each other and circulated amongst themselves with an ease and grace that emphasized the closed circle that they were a part of.

  Scanning the crowds
for Devika, he went and sat down on a stone pedestal that had been set up under a tree. An old man was already sitting there and soon another gentleman joined them. Determined not to seem out of place, Aditya decided to strike up a conversation about the latest tension between Takshashila and the neighbouring kingdom of the Kekeyas. It was one of the hot topics of the day.

  “Did you hear about the border clashes? What is going on there?” he opened.

  The old man on his left snorted derisively.

  “Huh, you think this started yesterday, son? No sir, this drama’s been going on for a long, long time—over sixty years now; and who do you think suffers in all this, huh? You and me, just us, merchants!”

  Aditya did not have any political opinions of his own, and he enthusiastically assented to everything the old man said.

  “No doubt it’s always the common people who suffer, Sir. Not to mention the useless loss of lives!” he said.

  “Baah . . . games, all games. Do you think they can fool us? I have seen the world, son; travelled to so many countries. Without a doubt I can tell you—we the people of Bharatvarsha are one. Then why these fights? Why do you think, eh? Some parties, some classes gain out of it, that’s all.”

  The old man sitting to his right now joined in.

  “What are you saying, Sir? Are you talking about Maharaj Ambhi? Don’t you see the Kekeyans relentlessly provoking us with raids on our borders? And then they claim that these are the works of dacoits. No Sir, Maharaj Ambhi is absolutely right! We need to put these Kekeyans in their place. Besides, don’t you see that Ambhi is the hope of the future? He is trying so hard to change the clique that surrounds the palace. He genuinely wants to do good for the people of Takshashila. All of us should be supporting his actions . . .”

  This was said in a tone of vehemence, which indicated that this old man was one of the partisans of Maharaj Ambhi. It was true that a personality cult was growing around the young King who was known to be decisive and energetic. Aditya decided it was only polite to agree with him as well.

  “Actually, I agree with you somewhat, Sir. We desperately need a young, energetic person like Maharaj Ambhi at the helm. They say he will be initiating many reforms in the bureaucracy?” he asked.

  “Nonsense, King Ambhi and his advisors; they are all hotheads and gasbags, they’ll lead us to ruin. Nothing is to come from this hate-mongering and war. He is only angling for popularity with the army, but let me tell you, it could have disastrous consequences,” chimed in the old man to his left.

  Both of them now started attacking each other, ridiculing each other’s opinions. One of them did not agree with anything Ambhi did, while the other one was a fanatical supporter of the King. They both looked at him for support and Aditya realized he could no longer keep agreeing with both of them. The argument escalated rapidly. Thankfully, just at that moment, Devika materialized from somewhere and whisked him away.

  She was dressed in a navrangya, a newly-dyed saree, and her face was flushed and excited from all the dancing and singing. She burst into a fit of giggles as soon as they were alone, and Aditya’s good cheer returned. He started grinning like an idiot.

  “So you have been behaving yourself, I hope? Not been troubling old men, have you?”

  “You should thank me; I just stopped a war from breaking out.”

  “You should thank me; you looked really uncomfortable there. I rescued you.”

  “Hahaha . . . well, that’s true and in return I will offer you this nugget of priceless wisdom—if you just want to make polite conversation, avoid politics, especially when talking to old men.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “That’s Uncle Kumara, he’s always pushing his opinions on people. Don’t worry; I’ve also listened to a lot of his lectures.”

  Aditya had already forgotten about it.

  “I didn’t realize it was going to be such an elaborate affair,” he said looking around.

  “Oh, it’s just my father. Most of his business is with the royal family and the nobles; these festivals are occasions for him to make contacts. This is not about Teej. It’s just an excuse for him to invite these people. Most of these people are actually incredibly boring.” She flashed another captivating smile at him, “Come, let me introduce you to my cousin Niharika. All of my friends are here.”

  They walked to the section where the swings had been set up. Aditya was introduced to the cousin, the one who had most mysteriously disappeared from the evening walks for the last couple of days. She was all smiles and asked him about his health, about Takshashila, and how he found the udyaan. Meanwhile, Devika was called away by Brihadratha and Aditya lost sight of her.

  After talking to a few of her friends, Aditya once again found himself alone and set off in search of Devika. He finally found her in a shaded clump of trees to the left of the pandal. She was talking and laughing with a man who had his back turned to Aditya. As he made his way there, Devika turned and welcomed him with a grin andIt was a face he had seen earlier. The same long acquiline nose, thick tightly held lips and the aggressive, intimidating gaze—it was Sumukha. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Aditya.

  “I know you—you’re that kid who was creating a ruckus near the carpenter’s locality, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, you two know each other?” asked Devika.

  “Not sure,” Aditya said stiffly.

  “So you don’t know each other?” She looked from Sumukha to Aditya, “You simply must meet him Aditya. This is Sumukha. He is a captain in the King’s army and he is the horse racing champion of Takshashila. Do you know about our annual horse racing competition? Sumukha won it three times in a row.”

  “Oh, I think he knows me. I made quite an impression on him last time we met, didn’t I, Aditya?” Sumukha grinned. “I take it he’s a foreigner? I could just make out that face from a kos away you know!”

  “Yes, he’s from Pataliputra. He was with us on the caravan coming over.”

  “Pataliputra,” Sumukha’s upper lip now curled up in a sneer. “Now why is it that this place is crawling with you people? Tell me, are things so bad in Pataliputra?”

  “Oh come off it, you oaf,” she put her hand on his arm. “You know Aditya loves horses. Aditya, you should really see Sumukha’s horse. It’s fantastic. A javapacamana,” said Devika.

  “I would love to see it,” said Aditya.

  “It’s a mare,” his eyes grazed Devika’s face, “yup, she is indeed a beauty.” He turned towards Aditya, “So Aditya, what horse do you own?”

  “I don’t really own a horse right now, but I might buy something by the end of the year,” said Aditya. His voice was level and calm, but inside, he was boiling with rage.

  “Indeed! Hahahaha, maybe we can even race someday then.”

  “Uff, you are simply insufferable. Don’t mind him Aditya, he has such a big head—he thinks he is the best out there. Keeps challenging everyone he meets, to a race.”

  Aditya frowned.

  “No, it’s okay. Maybe I will race you, I like racing too.”

  “Hahaha . . . I love this kid’s confidence, Devika.” Sumukha turned towards Aditya and looked down his nose at him. “It was nice meeting you Aditya, come back after you get a horse,” he retorted as if dismissing him. Turning back towards Devika, he grabbed her arm with an easy familiarity, and led her away.

  Aditya felt the blood rising to his head. The demons of jealousy and humiliation had been let loose, and his face was red with anger.

  Later, when he was alone with her, he recounted his first encounter with Sumukha.

  “Oh, he’s wild, always getting into fights. I really don’t like that about him,” she said in an off-handed manner.

  “I was drunk, else by the gods, I would have showed him.”

  “Don’t be silly, he’s an awesome guy,” she slapped him on the arm. “You know, you should really get to know him,” she was absent-mindedly twirling her earrings as she walked.

  “I’ve even hear
d he hates Buddhists. I’m surprised your family and you are such good friends with such a person.”

  “No . . . hey, you know Sumukha gave me these earrings. What do you think? Don’t I look pretty?” she stuck out her face in profile and smiled.

  Aditya looked at her and smiled. Inside, he was dying a little!

  the man turned towards him. Aditya froze.

  A Reunion

  The next evening, as Radha made her way up the stairs to Aditya’s room, she heard shouts and laughter. Must be some student raising a din, she thought to herself, but as she reached the first floor landing, she realized that the commotion was coming from Aditya and Rishabha’s room. She had got sweets for them, but it looked like a celebration was already underway.

  She was smiling as she stuck her head around the door.

  “I can come in, can’t I?”

  “You’re already in,” said a grinning Aditya.

  “Come on in, Radha,” shouted Rishabha.

  “What’s the good news?” she asked.

  They caught sight of the clay vessel that she held in her hands.

  “What’s that? Is it for us?”

  “Yes, I made some sweets for Teej.”

  “See my friend, the gods rewards the righteous. No sooner did you decide to do the right thing, than we have been sent these magnificient refreshments. Oh, I am so hungry Radha,” said Rishabha.

  They immediately attacked the sweets.

  “Wow . . . Uhmmaaam devishhush,” said one talking through a completely stuffed mouth.

  “Awefome, may you be . . . may you be the mother of a hundred sons, Radha,” said the other.

  “You know what, Radha. This fellow . . . oye that’s mine,” said Rishabha.

  The conversation resumed once the last of the sweets had been disposed off.

  “You made these?” asked Rishabha.

  “Yes.”

  “You have magic in your fingers, Radha. Too good,” said Aditya. “You know we should set up a sweet shop with Radha. We would make a lot of money.”