CHAPTER 6

ON ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENTS...

Paranjyothi stepped into Aayanar's home, and saw at once that the sculptor had done hardly any work at all in the past eight months—sculptures stood about in half-finished states, indeed, in very much the same condition as they had been, when he had first visited the beautiful residence. His heart ached with a grief he could not begin to define, and for probably the first time in the past few war-filled months, knew a pang of regret that such a catastrophe had ever occurred. ‘Dear God, why do such things as wars and battles exist?’ he asked himself, as unfinished work met his eyes all over the room, and his soul, hitherto delighting in all things martial, felt a distinct yearning for peace and prosperity that would allow artists to continue their work, unhindered.

Aayanar seated the commander at the end of the corridor bordering the room, while Sivakami stood behind a column nearby—more or less the same pose she had taken assumed on an earlier visit.

“Have you heard the latest, appa?” Sivakami began. “Our visitor is now the commander of the armed forces in Kanchi.”

“Indeed?” exclaimed Aayanar. “But then, Naganandhi Adigal took one look at this boy and said that he would attain great fame one day—and he said that quite a long while ago…”the sculptor hesitated, as though he had remembered something. “My boy, what did you do with the…the olai?”

“Sir, I’m ashamed to tell you that I committed a grave mistake with respect to that olai—not all your warnings and Naganandhi’s caution could keep me from falling a prey to a hoax. The olai—”

“Good Lord…! That olai didn’t fall into the hands of the Emperor—”

“I’m afraid it did, sir.”

“Oh…!" Aayanar remained silent for a moment. “And…and what did Mahendra Pallavar say?”

“Mahendra—my dear sir, I wasn’t talking about the Pallava Emperor; but the Emperor of Vathapi! I was arrested by soldiers from the Vathapi forces on my way, and they dragged me to Pulikesi. They, sir, were the ones who confiscated my olai…”

An exclamation of astonishment escaped Aayanar once again; almost at the same moment, a hiss of despair seemed to emanate from somewhere in the room. Someone had breathed aloud, almost like a snake hissing in desperation—and it did not escape Paranjyothi’s notice.

Neither Aayanar nor Sivakami, however, seemed to have noticed anything amiss. Sivakami, indeed, was staring intently at the entrance to the house—for Kannabiraan, standing just inside the doorway, was gesturing to her.

“My boy, did you really meet the Emperor of Vathapi?” Aayanar asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yes, sir. The Emperor of Vathapi was seated at the same distance that that statue of Buddha stands, from us…”

“And what did he say?”

“How would I know, sir? He spoke in a language that I knew not—indeed, I have never heard anything at all like it…but sir, it looks to me as though you would like to meet the Emperor of Vathapi yourself!”

“I confess I would, my boy. I dearly wish I had taken that olai, instead of sending you…”

“But why, sir? Why’re you so eager to do so?”

“I’ve heard that the Emperor of Vathapi spent two years—when he was younger, you understand—in the caves of Ajantha. He may know something about the secret of those paintings, don’t you think?”

Paranjyothi’s mind instantly flew back to Vajrabahu’s heated arguments against arts and lives spent in pursuit of it. It would appear that he was right, for hadn’t Aayanar’s passion for sculpting and paintings turned him into a person almost unrecognizable, from the gentle, unassuming sculptor he had been? Why, his passion had made him forget that he was a citizen of the Pallava Empire, and had created an unquenchable urge to meet the enemy, hadn’t it?

“I haven’t yet disclosed to you the purpose of my visit, sir,” said Paranjyothi. “The Emperor charged me with a message to you—”

“Which Emperor?” queried Aayanar.

“Why…Emperor Mahendra Pallavar, of course!”

“Hah! Mahendra Pallavar—I expected great and noble deeds from him…do you know, my boy, once, the sculptors of the Pallava Empire—myself included—gathered to bestow upon him a grand title… ‘Vichithra Chithar’ – ‘He who possesses a mind like lightening, who can think in many directions, at any given time.’ Vichithra Chithar, indeed. I wish we’d conferred on him the title ‘Sabala Chithar’– ‘He who changes his decision every second, without giving a thought to anything or anybody.’”

“But…why do you say that, sir?”

“Why shouldn’t I, my boy? Listen to his instructions, and I’m sure you’ll agree with me. First, he commanded me to go to Maamallapuram, and demanded that I finish five temples in six months. Within a month of starting work in the harbour-city, I receive a command that tells me to stop all work and get back home. Ah, the Emperor has changed indeed, my boy—he’s not the man I once knew…”

“I believe he hasn’t changed much, my dear sir. He has had to make certain crucial decisions on account of the war, after all…”

“Hah! War! Now that’s another thing that vexes me to death. It’s not enough that we’re fighting wars here, in this country; now we’ve got to start with the centuries old Mahabharata war too! The Emperor wants us to start building Bharatha Mandapams all over the country—I tell you what, boy, this isn’t the real reason for the Emperor asking us to stop work in Maamallapuram. I believe they threw us all out so they could save on the rice and grain that would otherwise have gone to sculptors, for the tenure of their work! You know, I suppose, that all the grain collected in the granaries of the harbour-city has been moved to Kanchi?”

“But sir, these decisions are necessary, particularly during a war! Kanchi’s fortresses may have to face a siege that may last even a year or two, and we’ll need every grain of food we can get our hands on. You ought to have seen Vathapi’s humongous armies sweeping their way through the plains…”

“And that’s another refrain I’m tired of hearing. For the past eight months, everyone’s been saying that the Vathapi Army is going to sweep us out of existence—with no sign of the enemy!”

“And do you know why such an enormous army hasn’t reached the outskirts of our Empire yet, sir? If Mahendra Pallavar had not proceeded to the battlefield, all those months ago, our beloved Kanchi would have a mound of dust and pebbles, by now. Believe me when I tell you that I saw Vathapi’s huge army of elephants, standing row upon row—there were thousands of them, and our own Army has little more than a hundred elephants. And yet—yet, we’ve managed to hold Pulikesi’s army on the banks of the River VadaPennai. Quite an achievement, don’t you think? And how, my dear sir, was this made possible? They say, you know, that the Pandavas won the Mahabharata war entirely due to Lord Krishna’s superior intelligence, and Arjuna’s incomparable valour. In our case, sir, Lord Krishna and Arjuna have both returned to earth in the form of our Emperor, to defend the Pallava Country!”

“Well, my boy, I’m glad to see you so devoted to the Emperor—but you’d better deliver his message to us, now,” answered Aayanar, and Paranjyothi duly complied.

“Pulikesi’s armies have crossed the VadaPennai, sir, for his brother, King Vishnuvardhanan of Vengi has joined him, and they are, at this very moment, marching their way towards Kanchi. It would be impossible, after this, to stop them from coming our way—which is why the Emperor has sent me down to Kanchi, to prepare her defences. The siege, when it comes, may last for a year or two—which means that anyone who has no business in Kanchi will have to move out of the city. We’re also clearing out the people who live in villages nearby. And that’s what the Emperor wanted to me to tell you—he would like to know your decision. It would not be advisable to stay on here, when the enemy marches down on us…”

“Ha! So the Emperor is trying to drag me out of my forest dwelling too, is he? My boy, who cares about which king rules here, and which doesn’t? Who, I ask you, is going to march inside this forest and rout me out? And if they did come in, all they would find are half-finished sculptures…and they’re welcome to as many boulders as they can carry. They’re even welcome to as many paintings on the walls as they can gouge out…”

“Sir, I’m afraid you’re exceedingly angry about something—or you would not speak so. Aren’t you aware of the dangers that threaten the peace of the Pallava Empire…?”

“What does the Emperor require of us?”

“You and your daughter may enter Kanchi, and remain safe within its confines—or you may reside, for a time, with your friend Namachivaaya Vaidhyar down in Chozha Nadu. If you do choose the second option, I’ve been instructed by the Emperor to escort the two of you down to Thiruvenkaadu. It remains for you to make a decision, sir,” finished Paranjyothi.

“Sivakami, my dear, what’s your opinion?” Aayanar turned towards the column where his daughter had been standing—but Sivakami was nowhere to be seen.