CHAPTER 12

A TEMPESTUOUS HEART

Sivakami felt a searing pain in her heart—the sky, it seemed, had suddenly unleashed a thousand bolts of lightning, which broke through the feeble defences provided by her body, and pierced the very core of her soul. The words ‘cowardly Crown prince’, had paralysed her, to say the least.

Aayanar himself looked considerably startled. “Swami…what’re you saying? Who on earth is the ‘cowardly Crown Prince’?”

“Well, of all the—and do you mean to say that you really don’t know? But the whole country is buzzing with news about him…oh, I quite forgot that you live in the heart of the forest—your ignorance is justified.”

“What don’t we know about? What is the country’s buzzing with? Upon my word, Swami, you seem to be the bearer of mysterious news!”

“Quite the contrary, my dear Aayanar. It wouldn’t matter, I suppose, if I shared this piece of information with you now—the whole world knows it, anyway. I’m referring to the illustrious Kumara Chakravarthy, Narasimha Pallava—he who won the title of ‘Maamallan’, of course. He’s quite a coward, you know. I shall tell you what happened when news reached the city about Vathapi’s invasion, shall I? Well, the Crown prince actually fainted in terror—and he was in the anthapuram, the ladies quarters of the Palace, when news of the incursion reached Kanchi. You may imagine how the Emperor must have felt at his son’s weakness, Aayanar—naturally, he was severely mortified and disappointed…Aayanar, have you never wondered why the Pallava emperor left for the battlefield alone, having forbidden Maamallan to set so much as a foot outside the gates of Kanchi?”

Aayanar sat up, his face burning with indignation. “Swami, take care; remember who you’re talking to, and the person you speak of. How dare you, sir, say a word against Maamallar? How dare you smirch the name of the Prince who defeated the most famous wrestlers of the Southern lands?”

“My dear friend, I was unaware of your ignorance on this subject—and it is, after all, a matter connected with the Royal family, with which monks such as me do not associate…but you appear to disbelieve me—and therefore leave me with no choice but to elaborate on my statement.” The bikshu looked Aayanar keenly. “The ‘Maamallan’ episode was a magnificent scam, my friend—the wrestlers who were to fight with the Prince had been instructed to lose, beforehand. The Emperor’s aim, of course, was to induce some degree of courage and bravery in his son’s heart…but he failed miserably, and the war has worsened the situation. Maamallan is the re-incarnation of Uthara Kumaran*, Aayanar—and now, you might be able to understand the reason for the Emperor’s command to build Bharatha mandapams all over the country. All for the sake of his beloved, cowardly son, of course…!”

“Swami, stop, please,” Aayanar covered his ears with his hands. “I can’t bear to listen to such reports about Kumara Chakravarthy…”

“I wonder what you’ll say when you hear the rest,” replied the bikshu. He threw a glance at Sivakami. “I don’t think I can reveal more, in your daughter’s presence…”

Years ago, when Sivakami had been a child of perhaps seven or eight years, curiosity and ignorance had prompted her to dip her hand inside a beehive—the result had been intense pain and suffering, such as she had never known, for about a day. She now experienced the same pain, magnified a thousand-fold. Her face blanched with tension and misery, and each of the bikshu’s carefully chosen words entered her heart like a drop of poison.

She heard the bikshu speak something about disclosing information in her presence—and decided at once she could not stay a moment more, in his company. She rose, and without a glance in the direction of either men, walked out of the room.

The bikshu watched her step through the doorway, and smiled. There was an almost negligible gap between the door and the floor of the room, and his sharp eyes noted Sivakami’s shapely feet, still standing near the entrance, on the other side of the door. He raised his voice slightly, as he spoke the next words.

“Aayanar, your daughter is as perceptive as she is talented—she left the room the moment I said that I had news not fit for her ears…but let me continue. You see, the Emperor has another great worry weighing on his mind, aside from Maamallan’s cowardice—the Crown Prince, apparently, has a fatal predilection for the company of…women. Maamallan supposedly wrote an extremely lewd olai to a young woman of his acquaintance, using language that would embarrass any normal, law-abiding citizen—and this olai fell into the hands of the Emperor. You may imagine his fury at his son’s doings…! And this is why the Crown prince has been placed under virtual house arrest, within the gates of Kanchi…”

Naganandhi threw a glance under the doorway of the adjacent room—Sivakami’s feet were moving away. He lowered his voice, and continued the conversation.

Sivakami fled the house as though a thousand shrieking ghosts were on her trail. She flew into the forest with no clear idea as to her direction, and finally, tired out with the exertion, slipped down onto the roots of a huge tree. Her parrot and pet deer had followed her—but Sivakami did not notice them. A few moments later, Rathi sidled up and nuzzled against her gently.

Sivakami swept the little deer away with a flap of her hand. “Little idiot…move away!”

Unaware of the tumult of her emotions, Sukabrahma Rishi flew into the air, shrieking. “Maamalla! Maamalla!”

Sivakami screamed at the bird, attempting to swat it away. “You silly twit! How dare you…!” The parrot veered away from her, and disappeared into the trees.

Quite suddenly, she remembered the palm-leaves from Narasimhar, tucked away carefully inside the Magizha tree, on the banks of the lotus pond. A savage fury took hold of her—those palm-leaves must be burned to cinders, at once…! She set off at a swift run towards the pond, reached the rustic bench, stepped on it, and felt about the hole for the palm-leaves.

Almost at once, she shrank back, horrified. Had a snake, perhaps, lurking in the shadows of the hole, bitten her? There she was, climbing a little higher on the bench, and peering anxiously into the hole again. What could prompt her to do so…?

The reason for Sivakami’s strange behaviour was quite simple—the palm-leaves she had deposited for safe-keeping within the hole had vanished. Not a trace remained.

She looked about her, puzzled. Where could they have gone?

Meanwhile, Naganandhi had left Aayanar’s residence—in fact, he was walking towards the forested region on the opposite banks of the lotus pond, at the same moment Sivakami peered into the Magizha tree. She came into his line of sight at once—he saw her delve into the depths of the tree, and noticed at once that her hands were empty. Obviously, no palm-leaf remained.

Sivakami’s anguish and fear at the missing palm-leaves was easily explained…but no possible explanation existed for the astonishment that dawned on the face of the bikshu himself, at her reaction.

Glossary:

*Uthara Kumaran: An incidental character in the Mahabharata, Uthara Kumaran was the prince of Viraada country, who grew up in the lap of luxury, and never knew a battlefield during his formative years. The prince was taught the rudiments of warfare—but was left to pursue an indolent life, which naturally gave him a very high opinion of himself. He had no formal training on battlegrounds, but was quite sure that he would bring victory if he ever led an army.

Around this time, the Pandavas, who had been living in exile for 12 long years, chose Viraada country for their last year of banishment – it was considerably far apart from their own home, and its royal family had no close connections with the Pandavas – and this was an added advantage, for the rules of their exile was as follows: in their last year, they were supposed to live in disguise; without revealing their true identities. If they were discovered to be the Pandavas in this year, then they would be banished to exile for another 12 years.

Arjuna, who took on the role of a eunuch, Brihannalai, acted as charioteer to the prince during a war threat—Uthara Kumaran (in the absence of his father, who would otherwise have led the army) was to face the Kauravas, who came seeking their cousins (knowing that they were in hiding in the Viraada country). The prince duly arrived at the war-front, decked out in armour, and took a look at the long line of splendidly arrayed Kauravas with their enormous army. Having had no previous training, and with no idea about how to face any enemy, let alone the powerful Kauravas…

…he turned and fled the battlefield.

This particular incident is often retold in a humourous vein, in the Mahabharata. Uthara Kumaran was later trained by Arjuna himself, and won honours in battle—but his name was forever etched in the annals of history as ‘the monumental coward’.