CHAPTER 31

UNDER THE MAGIZHA TREE

For a while, there was no sound except the roaring of the floodwaters round and about.

Mamallar sat gazing at Sivakami’s face, without taking a pause to blink. Sivakami looked at the ground for some time; then at the floodwaters swirling around them and the sky. And in between, her dark, expressive eyes, so very like the fluttering bees in a garden, would alight briefly on the beautiful lotus that was the Crown Prince’s countenance, before fluttering away.

Silence settled on them like the lull before a particularly loud storm, and even Sukarishi the parrot kept silent, darting surreptitious glances at Sivakami and Mamallar. After a few long minutes, the parrot seemed to lose interest and flapped his wings noisily, as if to say, There’s nothing I can do with a couple of silent idiots, and winged away from them.

It seemed as though the parrot’s departure was the signal for Mamallar to break the oppressive silence. “Sivakami …” he asked. “What are you thinking about?”

Sivakami turned to look at him. “I almost drowned in that water just now, didn’t I? I was just wondering why I ever had the misfortune to clamber up the shore – why I couldn’t have just been washed away in the flood!”

“Which means that I was foolish to ever come searching for you and rescuing you, in the bargain. It isn’t too late now, you know. The waters are rushing by just a few feet away.”

“True – the waters are very close …” Sivakami’s eyes glistened, brimming with unshed tears. “But I can’t bring myself to throw myself into the flood, after everything that’s happened, can I … and with you beside me, too?

Mamallar looked pained. “I come here, wondering if you’d like to talk about something cheerful – and here you are, insisting on such depressing speeches.”

“My lord, I’ve never been quite so happy at any time, as I am today. That’s why I wish I’d died the day I was the happiest!”

“Strange, the way you choose to celebrate happiness.”

“You wouldn’t say such things if you’d known how unhappy and miserable I’ve been, how unwell, for the past year.”

“Unwell? Why, you haven’t dropped a word about this! What was the matter? How long were you unwell? Have you been treated by a physician? Why didn’t you send word to me?”

“There was nothing wrong with my physical health, my lord. My body ate, slept, wore ornaments and paraded itself in every way it possibly could. It was my heart that had to go through such suffering and heartbreak.”

“Ah! Why would suffering and heartbreak plague you? Who dared to cause you such pain, Sivakami? What was your father Ayanar doing, allowing you to suffer such torment?”

In truth, the Crown Prince was only too aware of what she was referring to … but a part of him wished Sivakami to speak about it, herself, and he spoke in a way that was calculated to wring the words out of her.

“No one has caused me anything,” Sivakami countered. “My lord, I’m just a silly girl, brought up in a forest with nothing but my pets for friends … I am unlearned in the art of putting my thoughts into words. I …” her voice faltered. “I – the reason I was – I was so unhappy because – I couldn’t forget you!” Tears coursed down her cheeks.

Mamallar gazed at her, eagerness evident in his eyes. “Is that all, Sivakami? Why must you shed tears about this? As you suffered, with your thoughts upon me, so did I, caught in thoughts of you. You did read the palm leaves I sent, didn’t you?”

“Every olai you sent is branded in my memory, my lord – so many times have I read them, again and again. I’ve read out each olai to Rathi. I would be filled with such happiness when I read it … and then, with each passing moment, I would be consumed with so much distress that I wouldn’t be able to bear it – and I would be so angry with you …”

“Sivakami, you, at least, could be furious with me – but I haven’t had that luxury either, have I? Whose misery was greater, do you think?”

“Weren’t you angry with me, then? If that was true, why didn’t you stop to speak with me as you passed by the Buddha Vihara at Ashokapuram? Why did you just gallop away? Did you love me so much that you couldn’t bear to stop by?”

“Well, yes, Sivakami. I was quite angry that you hadn’t listened to my instructions to stay in your forest dwelling until I came by … but I did come to you that same night, didn’t I, braving the gales and the fierce stormy rains? I threw all my duties and responsibilities to the winds to come after you, didn’t I? In fact, I’m still in the dark about whatever’s happened at my camp, in my absence. I’ve tried to put away all that, and am waiting here, at your beck and call, anxious for a golden smile to bloom on your beautiful face. And you … you’re weeping as though the world has come to an end, turning me into a nervous wreck!”

“You are the reason for all that. I wasn’t this way two or three years ago – I was a cheerful girl, filled with laughter and happiness. I was just like a deer in the forest, gambolling about the trees. Appa kept trying to tell me to curb my spirits, he warned me so very often, “Sivakami, don’t laugh so; it was Panjali’s laughter that caused the Mahabharata massacre. Women oughtn’t to laugh quite so much …” Where is all the laughter now, my lord? Where have my spirits gone? Where have my enthusiasm and cheer vanished? I’m puzzled about it, myself …”

“Sivakami, tell me about those joyful times; about those times when you were happy and cheerful. Those days when you were as free as the wind, with not a care. I’m eager to know about your childhood …”

Finally, after a few more moments of Narasimhar cajoling her, Sivakami began.

“I was my father’s darling, when I was a child. Appa’s forest house was my palace, and I reigned as its supreme queen. My father’s students, who learnt sculpting under him, were my willing subjects. All I had to do was throw a glance at them … and they would all coming running to do my bidding: “How may we serve you, my lady?” That is how they were! And I went from one day to another, without a care in the world. Worry and anxiety did not touch me; I knew not what sorrow was …

“Everything I saw interested me; all the world was new and wonderful, full of strange and delightful sights and sounds. I would wake up, early in the morning, and look at the beautiful golden orb that was the sun, speechless. I would gaze at the newest, tender shoots of the mango trees, marveling at their gleaming green shades, entranced. All the flowers of the forest, their colours, their textures, their fragrances … everything fascinated me. I would run among the bushes and shrubs, trying to catch the little butterflies that fluttered among the greenery – and I would laugh in delight when they slipped away from my fingers, flying away in the wind. I would listen, almost drunk with happiness when the bees hummed within the forest, drunk on the nectar of flowers, themselves. And I would shout for joy when birds chirped and twittered, in the trees above me.

“At night, all the stars in the velvety sky above me would twinkle and glitter at me … as though asking me to float up and join them. And I would climb up into my chariot, my heavenly chariot that will lift me to the stars – and I would go to them. The moon would be as a bird, sometimes; like a beautiful swan, wings spread out. And I would climb onto its back and wander amidst the stars. And sometimes, I would think of it a boat; a small canoe, perhaps. And I would waft gently through the ocean that is the blue sky, settled on the moon. And I would spread out my arms, gather the little twinkling stars that came my way, and bundle them all in my lap.

“And so, when life went on, thus, like a happy dream – my father began to give me my first lessons in classical dance. I was caught in the frenzy that is dance; all day long, and even at night, I dreamt of nothing but Bharathanatyam. When I went to the forest, I would skip along in one of the steps Appa taught me; my feet would assume classical dance postures when I went down to the lotus pond to bathe. All the world and the sky were a huge stage for me, in those days.

“I believed the lovely lotus flowers, swaying gently in the breeze, to be dancing to music that couldn’t be heard by human ears. When I watched the stars winking in the night sky, I thought them following some unheard melody following the rhythm that is the universe, swirling round and round.

“And as I was spending my days this way, living my life in glorious innocence and delight … a visitor arrived, unannounced to my home, to my little forest dwelling, with his father,” stopped Sivakami.

“You.”