by Rahul Mitra
Devika hesitated right at the entrance.
“Noo . . . it’s too dirty,” she said crinkling her nose in disgust.
“Would you like me to get a palanquin for you, princess?” he asked, teasing her with exaggerated courtesy.
“No, there will be snakes here . . . it’s dangerous,” she whispered looking at the grass.
“There are no snakes here; I’ve been here a thousand times,” he whispered back. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
There was a distressed look on her face.
“Oh come on baba, please! I want to show you something,” he said.
But she shook her head and held a hand over her nose. It was clear from her expression that she didn’t find ancient buildings very enticing. She could be so stubborn sometimes!
“Look, you will like it . . . just come,” he pleaded with her.
In response, she crinkled her nose and shook her head.
“No no, you go, I’ll see it from here,” she said.
Aditya was at a loss. All his plans were unraveling around him. He had planned to please her; to show her something new and amusing. Every moment that she spent with him, was meant to be happy and memorable—not like this!
“Okay, fine,” he let go of her hand and advanced right into the middle of the hall. “Watch this.”
“Devika!” he shouted out. His voice echoed and boomed across the enclosed space.
“Devika!”
“Devika!!”
“Devika!!!” came back the echoes.
Aditya grinned in delight and then let out another shout
“Devika!”
“Devika!!”
“Devika!!!”
He looked back. She was smiling but she was also rushing him.
“Okay now, come, come . . . let’s get out of here,” she said.
Aditya stared at her in dismay. What was wrong with this girl? He would do everything he could, to make her feel special. They had such great times together. She would call him to meet her and then sometimes she would just turn around and behave as if he did not matter to her at all. As if he was imposing himself on her.
It had just been three days since he had won the race, and had boasted of his exploits to her. It was just yesterday—she had seemed so happy then. He had drunk in every exclamation of surprise, every word of praise that had emerged from her lips. Yet, at the end of it she had fought with him. She did not like his decision to join the King’s household guards. She could not understand why he would give up such a high paying trader’s job, to be an ordinary soldier. It still bothered him. Did she not have faith in him—in his ability to rise through the ranks? Could she not stand by him; support him in his decisions? Was money that important?
Aditya did not feel like it, but he put on a smile and rushed over to her. All he wanted was for her to have a good time.
***
At the very moment when Aditya was showing Devika the antics of the peacocks in the abandoned vihara, Pandi was making his way through the streets of New Takshashila. He was headed towards Mahinda’s house.
When he got there, he was received with elaborate courtesy by Mahinda’s wife. His host was not at home, but it was really Navinda whom he had come to meet. He was led to a cool, dark ante-chamber, and an old retainer came in, carrying a large copper plate which had an oil lamp, a cup of shikanji, and some sweets on it. The room came into view in the flickering golden light and Pandi could make out, the interesting collection of odds and ends that decorated its four walls. This was evidently the room reserved for meeting guests. The usual puppets from Matsya were there, as were the rather ugly-looking ceramic dolls from Cina that had now become obligatory in rooms like these. He was just trying to remember the name of a musical instrument from Persia that hung on the opposite wall, when Navinda stepped in.
“Pandiiiiiiii, so good to see you! How come?” said Navinda, and without waiting for an answer continued, “You looked fully charged up at the race; did you go drinking afterwards?”
“Shreeman,” Pandi rose to his feet and was immediately enveloped in a bear hug. “We celebrated like crazy. What a race Shreeman, what a race! Aditya is god-gifted.”
“He is gifted, no doubt. But it is your magic at work that has turned him into a champion, Pandi!”
“I don’t know about that, Shreeman. As far “Pandi, if people like you and me also start becoming so humble and retiring, what will happen to the world, yaar? It will become a dreadfully boring place.” Navinda leaned back against the wall and continued, more sober this time, “He has talent no doubt, but to win this type of race, requires much more than just talent. It requires character, Pandi; and that’s what you have given him. You have taught him well.”
“Hmm, he’s definitely changed a lot Shreeman. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about him.”
“About Aditya?”
“Yes, Shreeman, he wants to join the army.”
“Which army?”
“Takshashila’s army. He has been asked to join the household guards. They say King Ambhi himself asked for him. ”
“Really? King Ambhi’s household guards? Has he discussed this with Mahinda?”
“No. He wanted me to talk to you, as he thought you might be offended. He is obviously very thankful for all that you have done.”
“So why didn’t he ask me himself?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he has too much respect for you.”
Navinda considered this for a moment.
“Hmm . . . well, I don’t have a problem with him joining the army, Pandi. I just hope he has thought it through.” A glimmer now came into Navinda’s eyes, “If this is the life he wants, why don’t you take him as a lieutenant under you? With you around, he will be safe and he will see the world.”
Pandi shook his head.
“Not this boy. He wants to make it on his own, plus he is desparate to gain respect in society. He’ll never settle as a mercenary.”
“Well, he can get the riches and respectability he wants by being a merchant as well. Mahinda was telling me he has shown a lot of promise. Why would he want to chuck all of this away to be a common soldier?”
“You know him as well as I do, Shreeman! There is something in him that will never be happy as a merchant, no matter how successful he is. I understand you want to protect him, but we have to allow him to go his own way”
“So you support his decision?”
“Yes, I do. I was very happy when he told me. I always knew this is the line for him. With the talents he has, the things he enjoys—it would be a waste if he chooses safety and security over being a soldier. It’s what he was born for.”
“If you say so, Pandi, but ask him to come and talk to me. I just want to make sure that this decision has been well thought out.”
“I will tell him Shreeman. It’s just that he feels very obligated to you and didn’t want to appear ungrateful by just throwing away the job you got him.”
Navinda was smiling as he shook his head.
“I tell you, Pandi, it’s amazing how mature the boy has become. After seeing the race, I was convinced that Aditya has the heart that his brother had, but now I realize he has more—he has a subtlety and sensibility that Ajeet never had.”
So it was decided. Aditya had everyone’s blessings. Ten days later, he joined the army.
as I can see, he did it all by himself.”
Evolution
Aditya settled perfectly into his new job, and time flew by. Before he knew it, almost eight months had passed since the Vasant Utsav races. A lot had happened in this duration. Navinda had returned to Pataliputra, Pandi had settled down in Takshashila, and on Aditya’s recommendation, Rishabha now had a part-time job as an accountant and book-keeper with Mahinda’s firm. Aditya himself had received a promotion after having caught Maharaj Ambhi’s eye during a royal hunting expedition. He was now an officer.
Everything had changed, and yet some things remained the same. Sameera, the twins,
and Rishabha continued to meet at Tanku’s and argued passionately about issues affecting the nation, while neglecting their own studies. Tanku was still the same smelly, cantankerous, vulgar old man. Charaka still worked on his never-ending treatise on medicine. Devika and Aditya still had their rendezvous in the udyaan, and Radha still scolded Aditya for each and everything. Rishabha, as always, retained the habit of getting drunk and getting into trouble.
Things had, overall, turned out for the better, particularly for Aditya. After many years, he had finally attained some measure of stability. He had recently been promoted to the position of an officer of the guards. The pay was good and he loved his job. As a gentleman soldier, he spent only two days every week on duty, while the rest of his time was whiled away on indolence and drinking. It was a lifestyle he loved. Most mornings, he would exercise with his fellow soldiers, while the evenings were spent either meeting Devika, or training under Pandi. In short, life was tranquil and rosy.
Pandi too, was contented with his life. One of his former students, a nobleman, had offered to donate land for him to set up a gurukul, and Pandi had accepted the offer. He hung up his mercenary boots, and was now making quite a name for himself as the leading instructor of khadga fighting in Takshashila. His days were packed with classes and fights, and his nights were spent drinking and carousing. After over thirty years spent drifting through various kingdoms, he was even thinking of marrying and settling down for the third time.
Perhaps the only unhappy ones were the students. Rishabha, Radha, and the twins had thrown themselves wholeheartedly into Acharya Chanakya’s movement for the political unification of Bharatvarsha. They argued passionately in Tanku’s dhaba, organized debates in the kautuhalshala, collected funds for the cause, and addressed friends and strangers about the urgent need for a united nation. In keeping with the Bharatiya temperament, nothing concrete came out of these discussions, and the majority of the population remained apathetic and indifferent.
This was how things stood one year after the horse race, which had completely changed Aditya’s life. Everything seemed perfect, but Aditya was far from contented.
***
Aditya and Rishabha sat on the terrace, drinking. All around them was silence. It was night-time and the city was asleep. Rows upon rows of walls and rooftops spread out before them, glistening a ghostly grey in the moonlight. Here and there, tiny pinpoints of light pierced through the oceans of darkness that had swallowed up the earth. It was as if they were the only two people who lived in the whole wide world.
They had been drinking since evening and Aditya was in a strange mood. He was sitting bent over his cups, while Rishabha sat on the very edge of the terrace, dangling his feet over the parapet, as he stared into the darkness. Anger was rapidly building up inside him, but he kept quiet.
“I love her, Rishabha,” Aditya announced for the umpteenth time that night, “I love her; we could be so happy, you know! I held her in my arms for so long today—she loves me brother . . .” he continued, “she has promised to get sweets for me . . . I might share with you, if you behave!”
All he wanted to do was talk about Devika. He was mad at her but still couldn’t stop talking about her. He wanted to mention her name, to be asked about her, to be pressed for details, but Rishabha was being stangely uncommunicative.
Finally, Aditya snapped.
“What’s wrong with you? What the hell am I drinking with you for? Here I am, sharing my troubles with you, and you are not even bothered! Then what the hell are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? Listening to the same old stories everyday . . . that’s what!” Rishabha’s voice was rising. “And I’m fed up. Devika-this-Devika-that! If you have something new to tell me, then tell me. Else to hell with her!”
Aditya made a face as if he was outraged.
“To hell with her? Saale, I listen to all your stories, your idiotic ideas and impractical theories, and now you start behaving this way with me? Go then, I won’t tell you.”
“Okay, tell me . . . what?”
“Forget it, go to hell.”
“Okay, tell me, tell me . . . I know you’re just dying to spill it out. Well, go on then.”
Aditya was delighted. He immediately vomited out all the details of their meeting in the evening, but it wasn’t any fun. Rishabha was just not in the mood. He wasn’t even responding appropriately.
Later, something of Rishabha’s mood rubbed off on him and he too, lapsed into a deep silence. He loved her. How much he love her! Could she not see it? Why was she behaving like this?
His head slumped on his shoulders and he let out a deep sigh.
“Rishabha, I am a pativrata. I am really a pativrata,” he announced loudly.
“Yes,” agreed Rishabha somberly. “You mean patnivrat, right?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. Rishabha, I am a patnivrat. I could never love anybody else. I swear, as long as I live, I cannot even look at another girl again.”
“I know, I know.”
“Rishabha, you know if I get her, I will settle down, I will start a new life, I promise.”
“Hmm . . .”
“I’m serious Rishabha. I am a serious guy. You know I am a serious guy, don’t you? I take things so seriously.”
“You are serious brother, you are dead serious,” agreed Rishabha solemnly.
“I mean, Devika thinks I’m just a funny guy but you know how serious I am, don’t you?”
Rishabha was now warming up to the subject. “Serious? You are the best, brother, best . . . I mean, who is she?”
“Who is she? She is Devika.”
“She is a nobody, NOBODY . . . you, my friend, are the horse racing champion of Takshashila, the pride of the people. Don’t you remember how people lifted you up on their shoulders and carried you around the track after the race?”
“Yes, that’s right!” It was becoming clear to him now. “I am a champion,” thought Aditya to himself and smiled.
“You are a champion,” Rishabha repeated. He was growing louder and louder with every sentence, “And she is a nobody—I tell you! In fact, I don’t even like her: I hate her!”
“What?” Aditya was surprised by the vehemence in Rishabha’s voice. “What do you mean?”
“What is she doing? What is she doing brother? Why does she keep you hanging? How can she spend so much time with you and yet not love you? What does sheAditya was stung by the accusations. Even more so because they struck a chord in his own heart.
“It’s not like that; she is a really nice girl at heart. You don’t know her. Her parents are putting pressure on her to marry Sumukha and so she is confused. I know her brother, and she is a very clean-hearted girl. She is just a little confused and shy.”
“Clean-hearted? Doesn’t she know your feelings? She is treating you like dirt and you are defending her? It is the height of stupidity.”
Aditya sank into silence. He put his head in his hands and was lost in his thoughts.
Rishabha sprang up.
“Baah, enough of this nonsense. You tell me, do you want her? Do you want her or not? You just say it—we will abduct her. Rakshasa vivaha!” He said, punching his finger into the air for emphasis.
He was almost shouting.
“No! Don’t be stupid—I will not do anything against her will,” said Aditya.
“Baah . . . grmmpffff idiot!” said Rishabha in disgust.
“Quiet, you scoundrels! We are trying to get some sleep here,” came a voice out of the darkness.
“Oh, you shut up Piyush,” Rishabha shouted back.
“I want her yaar, I really want her,” groaned Aditya.
“Then take her na, why’re you disturbing our sleep?”
And so it continued, till early the next morning.
want, after all! God, she disgusts me.”
Alexander ‘The Great’
As the two friends talked into the night, little did they know that their own lives were soon about to tak
e another dramatic turn, for history was on the march and the world around them was already changing.
From beyond the Himalayas, a vast and invincible horde of Yavanas, Pahlavas, Shakas, and Bahlikas had appeared on the frontiers of Bharatvarsha, bringing death and destruction in its wake. Entire tribes of Kambojas had been slaughtered, cities sacked and burnt to the ground, homes plundered, and cattle captured. With fire and sword, the invaders advanced relentlessly onwards, even as the border tribes of the Asvakayanas now resolved to block the invader.
On the very night that Aditya and Rishabha were drinking, life-and-death struggles were unfolding less than a hundred kos away from Takshashila. Here, in the mountain fortress of Maskavati, a hastily-assembled army of Asvakayanas now congregated, awaiting the coming of the storm.
They did not have to wait for long, for the very next day, they received signs of the enemy’s arrival. Towards evening, the sky started glowing a fiery orange colour and soon, dense columns of smoke could be seen rising to the heavens from a number of different points along the horizon. The sky was filled with the screeching of countless birds that flew round and round in alarm. The Greeks were coming!
It was night by the time they arrived. Individual companies of scouts came first, lightly armed cavalry and skirmishers. These were followed by others and those by still others, rows upon rows upon rows of dark, menacing shadows that engulfed the skyline like a dense mass of locusts. In the background, the fires glowed ever brighter as darkness fell, bellowing out reddish black plumes of smoke that threatened to block out the moon and the stars. Every village in the vicinity was burning.
All along the ramparts of the fort, a crush of bodies crowded together, looking out over this deluge of nations that had descended upon their valley. Lost amongst this crowd was the teenager Partha, his heart bursting with excitement as he desperately tried to push his way to the front. Desperate to get a glimpse of the enemy, he wriggled and squeezed through legs and elbows, and had just gotten to the front when a hand reached out through the crowd and grabbed hold of his arm.