by Rahul Mitra
“That must be the stupidest idea I have heard all day.”
“Idiot, you think such a shop could even last two days? You two would just finish everything yourselves.”
“I know, this guy is such a greedy pig. We will not take him in, as a partner,” said Aditya.
“Saale, that last one was mine,” Rishabha turned towards Radha, his eyes gleaming with passion. “Big news Radha. You know, my best buddy here, has agreed to take part in the race.”
“The Vasant Utsav race? Really?” she looked at Aditya who was drinking water. He nodded back.
“Didn’t I tell you that he will come around? You didn’t believe me. I knew it, this guy pretends as if he is the most cynical man ever, but I knew he would come around for his friends. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Really? Then he is more of a softie than I thought.” She turned towards Aditya, “Wait, I think we should check—he might be ill.”
Aditya gulped down the last of the water and turned on her before she could sneak up on him.
“I’ll break your wrist if you call me softie again,” he said to Radha. “But yes, I will race.”
“The horse is the only problem. Do you or Nala know anyone who has a horse fit for racing?” asked Rishabha. “Every horse can’t race you know!”
“Didn’t you say that your brother’s friend will be coming from Pataliputra with your old horse?” asked Radha.
“Wow . . . you really have some memory, Radha,” said Aditya.
“Oh yes! Any news on that caravan?” asked Rishabha.
“Well, we got a message almost forty days back saying that the caravan had set off from Pataliputra and Navinda, I mean my brother’s friend is on it, but there was no mention about the horse so . . . I’m not very sure.”
“But he had promised, right?” asked Rishabha.
“Actually . . . see, the horse was not with him when I left Pataliputra. He did promise but, I don’t know if he was able to retrieve it.”
“Arre, you don’t worry buddy. We will get the best possible horse for you.” Rishabha now turned to Radha, “Will you ask your brother if he can think of something?”
“Sure, I will. Don’t worry Aditya, something will work out,” she said.
“Oh, I am not worried,” Aditya said with some annoyance.
“Of course he’s not worried. These days my friend is floating in air.”
Aditya mouthed a few curses in Rishabha’s direction.
“What is it? What? Oh come on, tell me,” pressed Radha.
Rishabha gleefully filled her in on the happenings of the last few weeks. Radha took it all in. She was silent for a little while.
“You know, if the girl really likes you, she should like you for who you are. Not for winning a race or owning a fine horse.”
“I know, I know, I have told this idiot the exact same thing,” Rishabha chimed in.
“She already likes me a lot.”
“I hope you are not racing just to impress her, are you?”
“Of course not! What do you take me for?” asked Aditya indignantly.
“Okay, all right, fine . . . no one’s attacking you. We’re your friends; we just want the best for you, that’s all.”
“Exactly,” echoed Rishabha.
“Well, it’s late. I have to get back and cook. I’ll ask Nala about the horse,” she said and left, leaving them both to continue planning and strategizing for the race.
***
Two more months passed by, before Aditya received news of the caravan’s arrival. They had been receiving regular reports about the caravan’s progress for the past week and finally, one day, a party of traders coming from the Matsya janapada confirmed that they had passed by a caravan from Magadha, which was only a day’s march behind them. For Aditya, it was terribly exciting news, for it meant that he would be meeting both Navinda as well as Pandi once again.
He had bought a gift for Pandi, a special kind of sword, much used by the Ashvaka horsemen. It was a deadly little everyday weapon, shorter than a sword and very handy for stabbing or slicing. To Aditya, it represented his gurudakshina, an important offering for the man who had taught him so much.
He had also bought a number of gifts for the man who had saved his life—his benefactor Navinda. Now he worried that the gifts he had bought for these two men, would seem too cheap in comparison to what they had done for him.
The next day, a small party set off from Mahinda’s offices to locate and welcome the caravan. Mahinda had arranged for horses for everyone, and they quickly made their way to the Uttarapatha. At midday, they crossed a group of soldiers who informed them that they had just passed the caravan. A few kos later, they spotted the long line of carts, strung out like a caterpillar over the Uttarapatha.
The caravan was within smelling distance of Takshashila, and the traders and merchants were already in high spirits. All of this excitement now broke upon this small party of horsemen who had come from Takshashila. They were immediately mobbed. Excited strangers asked them for news and the entire procession slowed to a halt as old friends and strangers exchanged greetings, messages, and questions about far-off places and families left behind.
Mahinda, Aditya, and the others got off their horses and waded through the crush of people crowding around them.
“Hey, here’s the drunkard from Kaushambi,” someone shouted through the crowd. It “Jalkanya has a moustache! Hey Dundubhi, look at that, will you?” shouted out another voice.
A number of Pandi’s men surrounded Aditya, asking him eagerly about what he was doing now. They pulled his leg about his new-found moustache, someone challenged him to a sword fight and everyone asked him questions about his new job and his life in Takshashila. Old comrades slapped him on the back and everyone was laughing. Pandi and Shilajit appeared from somewhere and pounced upon him.
“Why, our ugly little mutt has grown up, hasn’t he?” asked Pandi.
“What have you been doing Aditya? You have changed, you look so different!” said Shilajit, embracing him enthusiastically.
“Look at him, Shilajit. He even has cotton fluff on his lips. Is that supposed to be a moustache?” Pandi asked with evident delight.
Aditya touched Pandi’s feet and was given a big hug in return. Within moments, he had unloaded his gift onto Pandi, who appeared delighted with it. They talked about sword fighting and Pandi promised him many more lessons.
Navinda now burst through the crowd and he too, fell upon Aditya.
“My God, you have become a big man now!” was his first reaction when Aditya tried to touch his feet. “Your brother would have been so proud of you!”
It had been just seven months since they had last seen each other, but in that short span of time, it seemed as if the entire world had changed. After all that had happened, seeing each other in such changed circumstances was a shock. For a few moments, they were both lost in their own thoughts. The shadow of Ajeet loomed large in the background.
Navinda took Aditya by the hand and led him away from the crowd. They walked in silence till Aditya burst out:
“I will never forget what you did for me, Shreeman. I . . . I don’t know how I can ever repay what you have done for me . . .”
Navinda only squeezed his hand and smiled. He looked aged and haggard, thought Aditya. There was a lot more of grey in his hair now. Was it just the stress of the journey, or had Navinda changed so much in such a short time? He waited for the older man to begin talking.
Finally, Navinda opened up and filled him in, on the happenings in Pataliputra. Both Vrishni and Indukalpa had grown to positions of power and Vijayendra was now the kotwal of the city in place of Ajeet. A lot of people still mourned Ajeet’s death and remembered him fondly.
Their conversation touched upon many different topics and Navinda revealed how he was being harassed by the authorities as Indukalpa suspected he knew something about the circumstances surrounding Ajeet’s execution. They talked about Acharya Vishwa, the akhara and many
of the old familiar people, whom they had left behind in Pataliputra.
Later, he quizzed Aditya about his life in Takshashila and was struck by the replies. Aditya had changed! It weren’t just the physical, superficial changes, but the way in which Aditya met and held his gaze that impressed him the most. He had the direct, self-contained bearing of a sober, confident adult.
As they walked along beside the Uttarapatha, a gust of wind caught them and made its way towards the rear of the caravan. An emaciated, dull-looking horse that had been trudging along with its head drooping, suddenly came alive. His head popped up, the ears stuck up straight, and the steed started showing unmistakable signs of excitement and restlessness.
Animals instinctively recognize their masters, and somehow, Ashvaghosha had sensed that his master, friend, and companion of yesteryears was nearby. He pawed the earth and became difficult to control, rearing up on his hind legs, and jerking his reins out of the hands of the servant who was leading him.
The men around him scattered, as the horse broke free. With unerring intuition, the charger made his way through the crowds, which scattered hastily in front of the approaching beast.
The same instinct had touched something inside Aditya. There was commotion behind him, and a sixth sense told him it was Ashvaghosha. He whirled around and immediately broke into a cry of delight. The horse bounded up into its owner’s open arms.
Ashvaghosha nuzzled against his shoulders and licked his face, and Aditya in turn, could not get enough of the constant companion of his younger days. He hugged Ashvaghosha’s neck, rubbed the smooth leathery skin, and breathed in the familiar horse smell. His delight however, turned to dismay when he saw the ribs sticking out of his beloved horse’s body.
Navinda patted the horse and explained.
“Vijayendra had claimed him after they seized your property, but he refused to eat and would not let anyone ride him. He had become very irritable and thin before Vijayendra finally agreed to sell him to me.”
Aditya had nothing to say. He was feeling overwhelmed and so he got up onto the horse’s back. Under his legs, he could feel Ashvaghosha’s muscles coil up for action. Under the emaciated, broken frame of the horse, still beat the heart of the spirited young charger that had once thundered through the lanes of Pataliputra.
was one of the soldiers of Pandi’s band.
Hunting
Aditya led the way and Pandi followed; eyes and ears peeled for signs of danger. Thick, green foliage crowded in from all sides as ancient trees of peepal and banyan towered above them. They were in the dense sub-tropical forests outside Takshashila.
Crisp, early morning freshness hung in the air and the indescribable scents of wood, moss, flowers, mud, and wet leaves mingled in Aditya’s nostrils. He inhaled deeply of the cool forest air and shivered with excitement. All around them, the forest was alive, reverberating to the chirping of birds, the shrill cries of peacocks, and the chattering of monkeys.
Not a word was spoken. Now and again, Aditya pointed out something interesting to Pandi, who grinned with delight and then nodded for them to continue. Deeper and deeper into the jungle they went, till finally, Aditya held up his hand and got down on all fours. Pandi nodded. He too, went into a low crouch as they slowly crept forward.
They had come to the edge of a ravine. From here, the rocky land sloped steeply down. Odd-looking stunted bushes and trees, curving into the most fantastic shapes, grew along the sides of the ravine, disappearing into pitch darkness at the bottom.
Both held absolutely still, straining all their senses, running their gaze over the bushes, rocks, and trees growing along both sides and staring deep into the distance, over the edge of the ravine opposite. Finally, deciding that all was well, they made their way down the treacherous slope to the bottom.
At the bottom it was dark, cool, and silent. Far above them, they saw the skyline, a patch of blue sky framed by dark rock walls, and the silhouettes of trees. On the ground, tangled bushes and rocks gave way to clear, muddy land, through which flowed a thin trickle of water. A dead tree lay right next to this water channel, its trunk half-submerged in mud and its white, lifeless branches sticking out awkwardly. Aditya squatted down beside the tree and pointed to something in the mud.
There, in the soft clay on one side of the tree, could be seen the paw prints of a tigress and her three cubs. They had emerged from the brush, and then crossing the nala, had followed its course for some time.
“It is two days old, at least,” Aditya whispered, pointing to one of the tigress’s pugmarks. The sides were already crumbling, and ants traversed all along the depression. With a jerk, he stood up, “We should get out of here.”
Pandi nodded. It was dark and cramped, the perfect place to be ambushed by a tiger. He gripped his javelin tightly in both hands and they made their way up the opposite bank of the ravine in silence.
On the other side, the forest was less dense. Stray sunbeams pierced through the forest canopy, lighting up dust particles and insects swirling in the air, and creating a mosaic of light and shade on the forest floor.
Through the trees, they could make out an open glade, which was covered in waist-high grass that had been burnt yellow by the sun. Here and there, a number of bushes and small trees stood out, breaking the monotony. As they crept slowly up to this clearing, Pandi now squeezed Aditya’s shoulder in glee. They were in luck.
A herd of cheetal was browsing contentedly near the opposite end of the clearing. Aditya picked up a pinch of dust, and lifting it to eye level, he let it go to see which way the dust would blow. They circled over to their left. The wind, little as it was, was blowing into their faces now. Rather than take their scent to the animals, it would do the opposite.
Aditya signalled with his fingers. There were twenty-five in all, including seven young ones. Pandi gestured towards one of the bigger ones, which had its back towards them, and strung his bow with one of the heavier arrows.
Crouching low, they waded into the tall grass. Every time a number of cheetal looked up, they would duck and keep absolutely still, and only when the cheetal went back to grazing, would they move again. At one point, Aditya squeezed Pandi’s shoulder and pointed up towards a tree.
A silver, grey-backed langur looked down curiously at them. Pandi clenched his jaw. If this blasted monkey let out an alarm call, he would personally spear it alive. Both held their breath as the langur let out a few quizzical noises towards them. Finally, not receiving any reply, it ambled off, swinging idly through the branches.
Meanwhile, some of the small cheetal had gamboled off into the dense jungle on the other side, and their mothers suddenly broke into loud grunts of disapproval. The little ones immediately came running back into the open, but the herd had become more nervous. A number of them looked up, jerking their heads this way and that, sniffing suspiciously at the air. Pandi drew his bow and waited, praying for the target to turn a little and show its neck. Aditya bit down on his lower lip and squeezed the shaft of the spear hard. Adrenaline pumped through his body; every muscle was tense and ready to explode into action.
Unaware of the coming danger, their target continued grazing contentedly, slowly moving forward, as it searched for the juiciest, most tender leaves. Pandi anticipated the direction of movement and pre-sighted a point at which its neck would appear. One of his eyes was shut. The cheetal now turned around just a fraction and in that split second, its life was already over.
The arrow was released, the bow gave a mighty twang and in the blink of an eye, the calm forest scene exploded into chaos and noise. Everything happened at once. All manner of birds took off from the tree tops with the deafening flutter of hundreds of wings; the langurs started screeching maniacally and the entire herd bolted for the forest, even as the arrow lodged itself and sank deep into the soft flesh by the side of the cheetal’s shoulder. The hapless animal staggered for a moment, and then bounded away towards the safety of the dense forest, close behind its already vanishing compatri
ots.
It would seem that even before the arrow hit home, Aditya was already on his feet. Building up into an all-out sprint, he let the spear fly before the cheetal could reach the safety of the trees. The spear flew long and true, but glanced the hind quarters of the unfortunate animal and bounced off.
“Got him,” Aditya yelled as he sprinted all out in rapid pursuit. An uncontrollable, uncontainable burst of incandescent energy surged through his veins. Every pore of his being was alive. The exhilarating, heady feeling of the hunt was upon him.
“Come on,” he yelled again.
Pandi was running behind him, already stringing another arrow on his bow. The deer might be quicker, but they would follow its trail till they got him today. He increased his pace, for Aditya had already picked up his spear and disappeared into the forest.
***
Later, after they had had their fill of fresh roasted game, they lay back in the open glade soaking up the sunshine. The caravan from Pataliputra had been unloaded and two days’ leave had been declared for all. They were both on holiday.
Pandi lay on the grass as Aditya narrated anecdotes from his hunting days in Pataliputra. They reminisced about incidents on the caravan to Takshashila and laughed. A relaxed, spaced-out mood prevailed till Pandi suddenly said, “You know, Navinda told me about your history. Do you know I even checked up on some peop“Who did you check up on?” Aditya asked, his voice hoarse.
“The Dandayan, Indukalpa.”
Aditya stiffened. Images from his former life came flooding back into his mind and bounced around inside his head. Long-suppressed memories, of his brother carrying him on his back. Memories of his brother waking him up on cold winter mornings, treating him to hot semolina pudding. The two of them roaring with laughter, without a care or worry in the world.
How cozy and happy had been their world, how simple and artless his brother, and how cruel the villain, who was now sitting in comfort in Pataliputra. The man who had murdered his brother, the man who had turned his entire life upside down, was living happy and free and respected as the Minister of Justice in Magadha!