CHAPTER 15

THE PARROT AND THE EAGLE

“Kamali!”

“Kanna!”

“I hate this existence.”

“Do you, now? Pray tell why.”

“I hate our new commander—well, perhaps I’ve nothing against the man personally…but I’m disgusted at the attention everyone showers on him!”

“I fail to see any reason for your disgust. He has, after all, spent considerable time in the battlefield, cut down the enemy in swathes, and earned a name for himself as one of the greatest warriors of Kanchi.”

“Oh, what wouldn’t I give now, to be able to march into battle!”

“What’s stopping you from—er—marching?”

“Not ‘what’, my dear, but ‘who’. Who else but our beloved Crown prince, Maamallar? I’m forced to restrain myself from leaving this city, because he’s been ordered to confine himself to it. Why, oh, why did fate consign me to the miserable existence of a Crown Prince’s charioteer?!”

“While, in reality, if left to your own devices, you would mow down the Vathapi army single-handedly and release Kanchi from torment forever?”

“Someday, my sarcastic one, Maamallar will leave for the battlefield; I will follow him thither…I may even die a glorious warrior’s death there, defending my king and country—Kamali, you’ll tell little Kanna all about me if such an event ever comes to pass, won’t you?”

“Certainly, my beloved. I shall tell Kannamma that Kanchi never knew your equal when it came to conceit and idiocy—especially when it came to talking of battle, while reclining on cushions safely, within one’s home.”

“I beg your pardon? Did my ears deceive me, or did you just say…Kannamma?”

“Your ears are working well enough—pray, why mustn’t it be Kannamma?”

“Enough! No more women, I implore you—none on the whole of this earth. No one could bear it, no one!”

“You’re right—quite an unusual occurrence, as far as you’re concerned. God mustn’t send any more women into this world, populated by idiotic dolts who pass off as men—especially when said dolts neither recognize nor acknowledge the pain they cause their women.”

“My dear Kamali…kindly elaborate. What’s this mysterious pain you women suffer at the hands of your men—and, er…how exactly are we responsible?”

“You said you wanted to leave me for the battlefield, just a few minutes ago; Maamallar has chained himself inside this city, and hasn’t visited my dear sister Sivakami in eight months…if that isn’t pain, then I don’t know what else is.”

“Ah…twisting yourself in knots about your young sister again, aren’t you? You rarely think of anything else, these days.”

“I won’t deny that I have been thinking of her—and worrying for hours on end, about her ill-fated love with the Crown Prince. Kanna, of all the eligible young men in the Empire, why must she choose him to fall in love with? A parrot should mate with another parrot, and an eagle with another of its own kind. To tread in an uncertain path in this manner, heedless of consequences, regardless of their respective stations in life—for a parrot, living on the lush branches of trees, to wish to share the life of an eagle soaring through the skies…Kanna, how can such a thing be possible?”

“Well…! You’ve certainly come a long way from our conversation a few nights ago, haven’t you—when you said that your sister was a lady without peer in all the three worlds, and was worthy of the greatest kings and princes on earth?”

“Yes, I did—I won’t deny that. I said it then because I love her; I know her true worth, and I believe that she deserves the best of men…but later, after a few hours of thought—Kanna, I‘m convinced that none of this will lead to a happy end. I should have known better than to raise false hopes and fantasies in her about a royal wedding—and you certainly shouldn’t have delivered Maamallar’s palm-leaves into her hands with such unfailing regularity.”

“Now, just a moment…” Kannan sat up, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You appear to have become quite a venerable sage, worthy of the respect of the citizens of Kanchi—pray, when did this transformation take place, Oh Wise One?”

“I’m not quite sure…but I believe the transformation was effected sometime after—after ‘Little Kanna’, as you call him without the slightest sign of inhibition—came into existence.”

“But, my dear…” Kannan chuckled, unable to control his mirth. “My beloved wife, what earthly connection does Maamallar’s relationship with your sister have, with little Kanna?”

“You, my worthy husband, are a dolt,” came back the heated answer. “You’ve been consorting with horses so much that you’re beginning to be influenced by those animals—soon you’ll resemble them completely, right down to their pitiful excuse for brains.”

“I shall bear with equanimity any insult you care to fling at me, my foolish wife—but I will not, I repeat, will not tolerate an unkind word about my horses. Upon my word, lady, if all the humans on earth had a tenth of a horse’s intelligence, our world would be a much better place to live in!”

Following this explosive retort, Kannan turned away from his worthy consort, considerably incensed at her opinion of his horses, and resorted to staring at the wall, presumably lost in a fuming tirade against women and their abominable ignorance about all living creatures in general, and horses in particular. Kamali, only marginally aware of her husband’s annoyance, retreated into her own private world, wrestling with her share of worry and discomfort.

An appreciable amount of time later—when it was borne forcibly on Kannan that his wife had no intention of noticing his displeasure, or had, indeed, even taken note of his presence in the room—he turned towards her.

“Kamali, I wish you’d explain your feelings on this subject a bit clearly,” he began. “What earthly obstacle, do you think, has the power of preventing a marriage between Maamallar and your sister?”

“Considering the hours you’ve spent in the palace, serving its royal inhabitants hand and foot, your knowledge of royalty and all things concerned with it is pitiful, Kanna. The nuptials of Princes and Kings are hardly a matter to be decided in a matter of minutes—did you really think that it would be like our own marriage, conceived and carried out within weeks? Bear in mind, I ask of you, that Maamallar’s son will one day succeed to the throne of the Pallava Empire.”

“One doesn’t need extra-ordinary intelligence to perceive that, madam—a little of that pathetic excuse for brains that a horse possesses, would be more than enough.”

“You would do well, then, to use whatever wits you possess, in understanding the situation—do you honestly believe that a child born to the daughter of a sculptor would be allowed to ascend the Pallava throne?”

“I don’t perceive any difficulty in that, dear one. Our throne isn’t placed too high—I could pick up the child and seat him on it, quite easily. No difficult task, I assure you.”

“It pleases you to be flippant at the moment, Kanna—but do be serious, I implore you. Aayanar’s grandson cannot ascend to the Pallava throne…what would the people say, for heaven’s sake?”

“Ha…! You’d do well to leave the blasted citizenry of the Pallava Empire to me, Kamali—I’ll gear myself up in my best royal charioteer’s armour, lay my sharpest horse-whip on their backs and make them see sense, if they insist on exhibiting any sign of stupidity…see if I don’t!”

“And that’s not all, Kanna…you do remember, don’t you, that Emperor Mahendra Pallavar has a relation in Vengipuram—the grandson of his uncle, I believe, who goes by the name Aditha Varman or some such thing—might he not stake his claim to the throne of Kanchi as well?”

“Not to claim this throne, he won’t. Not now, not ever. Vengipuram has been destroyed Kamali—it exists no more, and Aditha Varman’s fate is doomed, as well. He’ll never be a threat to the Pallava Empire, my dear.”

“Then, there’s our Crown Prince himself—he won’t emulate other Princes and Kings before him, and wed two or three princesses, to oblige royal requirements! I know Kumara Chakravarthy too well…he will not marry Sivakami for the sake of love, cast her aside, and then consent to a marriage of convenience with another high-born princess, will he? Mahendra Pallavar is well aware of this monogamous tendency in his son—our Prince would rival Lord Rama, as far as fidelity and faith are concerned!”

“Why yes, my dear. Maamallar follows an excellent example set by both Lord Rama and Kannan in this regard—and by Kannan, I do not refer to Lord Krishna of Gokulam*, who danced around with as many girls as he could during his youth,” Kannan grinned. “I meant Ayodhya’s Lord Rama, and Kanchi’s very own Kannan, of course!”

Kamali pursed her lips, tried to frown at her husband and failed miserably, breaking into peals of laughter.

“What I don’t understand, my dear, is this,” Kannan paused for a moment, and then continued. “How on earth did you manage to gain such insight and understanding into the muddled affairs of our royalty?”

“Well…to tell the truth, I didn’t get an insight into it all at once—nor all by myself. To be sure, I indulged in some furious thinking and worked out some of it by myself…and the rest was revealed to me during an extraordinary and—I might add—fortunate session of diligent…eavesdropping.”

“Indeed. When and where did this fortunate eavesdropping session take place, and—er—what information did you gain from it?”

“A rather mysterious visitor arrived at our home four or five days ago, Kanna, and was huddled into a lengthy conference with your father. I didn’t mean to listen to any of it—but I happened to catch Sivakami’s name—and then, of course, I couldn’t prevent myself from eavesdropping. They were discussing what we’ve been talking of all this while—and they…”

“Yes?” Kannan prodded, as his wife hesitated. “What more did they talk about?”

“They—they spoke of something else…something very important, as well.”

“And…?”

“They knew about Maamallar’s frequent palm-leaf communications to Sivakami—they even knew that you were acting as the messenger, carrying the palm-leaves to Sivakami whenever possible.”

“Ha!” Kannan exploded. “And so, this is what that pathetic hermit, that ‘I’m-holier-than-thou’ hypocrite, that sneaky old coot’s been doing, right behind my back—spying on me, no less!” Having delivered these colourful epithets about his honoured father, he drew a deep breath, feeling considerably better.

Kamali threw a horrified glance around the room, and flew to cover his mouth with her palm.

Kanna drew his wife’s hand away gently. “Kamali…you didn’t happen to find out the identity of my father’s unknown, mysterious visitor, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I’d never even seen him before this visit.”

A distinct, rattling sound from the street drew their attention away from each, at this point—a horse, for certain. Kannan and Kamali rose as one, intrigued by the noise, and leaned out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rider…who threw a brief glance at their home before vanishing down the street in a cloud of dust.

“Kanna!” Kamali clutched at her husband in excitement. “That’s him…that’s your father’s mysterious visitor! Do you know him, or don’t you?”

“The plot thickens,” Kannan murmured. “I do know him, as a matter of fact. That, my dear, was none other than Sathrugnan, the Emperor’s chief spy—apparently, he’s arrived with a message from Mahendra Pallavar. I shall get some news of it, shall I?”

He left for the palace at once.

*********************

A naazhigai later, the royal chariot clattered to a stop in front of Kannabiraan’s home, and the charioteer himself jumped out from it. Running into the house, he collided full tilt into Kamali, who was emerging from the kitchen.

“Whoa there,” she gasped, as she righted herself. “What’s the tearing hurry?”

“I couldn’t have worded it better, myself. I am in a hurry, my dearest—in a tearing hurry to leave for the battlefield!”

“What?” Kamali’s face blanched. “You don’t—you’re not…not leaving for the battlefield, surely? Oh, Kanna, no!” Much to his considerable surprise, she threw her arms around her husband’s neck and held him tight.

“But yes, dear one. Sathrugnan has but this instant brought Narasimhar a message from the Emperor—our Prince has been given permission to go into battle. We’re leaving in half a naazhigai, at the latest!”

“You’re…you’re leaving? You’re going to battle with Maamallar too?”

“What a question, my dear…if Maamallar leaves for the warfront, so must I.”

“Ah, but Narasimhar is the Crown Prince after all; someday, he will follow in his father’s footsteps and ascend the throne to the Empire—it’s understandable that he should go to war, to guard his country—it’s his duty, after all. But you, Kanna…what must you have to do with affairs of state? Who cares about Kings and Countries—what does it matter about who rules any kingdom?”

“My dear, what has happened to you? You’re talking in the most peculiar manner—why, yesterday your sentiments were quite distinctly the opposite…would it not be failing in our duty, any citizen’s duty, for that matter, to lounge at home while danger lurks on our doorstep?”

“My brain is reeling with your references to danger, enemy invasions and threats to the country—Kanna, what exactly is threatening our safety?”

“These are dark days for the Pallava Empire, my dear. Pulikesi, Emperor of Vathapi, is marching to our gates, intent on destroying the Pallava strong-hold—and this is the enemy our Emperor’s been holding back for all these months. Now what must that dolt of a Ganga King do, in the meantime, but try to march into Kanchi from the west, eager to get in before Pulikesi reaches us? The Ganga King is named Durvineethan, Kamali—apt, I think. He ought to be a re-incarnation of the evil *Duryodhana, at the very least. And it’s this foe that Maamallar’s preparing to face—and with whom I’m journeying. Oh, Kamali…how I’ve longed for this day—for this opportunity! Give me leave, dearest. Give me leave to go to war, with all the happiness and delight you can muster!”

“Oh, Kanna…” Kamali stared at him, apprehension filling her eyes. “Oh, how can I—I can’t even think properly, my mind’s filled with a strange dizziness…Kanna, what will be Sivakami’s fate, now? I can’t bear to think—oh, what’s going to happen to her?”

“Oh my…! With all this excitement about going to war, I’ve almost forgotten another piece of news…now, listen to this very carefully, my dear: The Emperor has asked Maamallar to visit Aayanar and his daughter, and escort them to the Royal Palace, before he leaves for the warfront! I may actually take them up in the royal chariot, if Maamallar decides to make use of my services…there! So much for your arguments about Mahendra Pallavar’s heartlessness, and your imagined obstacles between Sivakami and her Prince. What do you think, now? Changed your mind about our Emperor, eh? He’s a great man, isn’t he?”

And Kannan looked down at his wife, righteous triumph brimming in his eyes.

“I wish that it were so, for your sake,” Kamali spoke softly, tears beginning to streak her face. “And oh…I wish, with all my heart, for your safe return too!”

Glossary:

*Gokulam: In this idyllic spot on the banks of the River Yamuna, did Lord Krishna spent all his childhood, chased by his (foster)mother for his (unending and imaginative)tricks, the gopikas for his magnetic personality, and his friends who formed a faithful coterie, with him as it's chief. Eventually he left, following his destiny, for he was in reality a prince who had been kept in hiding by his true parents, fearful of his uncle's wrath.The rest of his life is told in the famed epic, the 'Bhagavadham'.

*Duryodhanan: The first of the 100 Kaurava brothers, their undisputed leader, who hated the Pandava brothers with all his heart. [Whether any justification can be made about his wrath is something that merits discussion - it's my personal opinion that there may some foundation for it. Not on the side of the Pandavas, certainly, but on the side of their mutual teachers.]Durydodhanan possessed concentrated evil in his heart, certainly, and did try his best to raze his cousins to the ground-mostly through unfair means.