CHAPTER 38

“AS THE MOON IS MY WITNESS …”

When, well into the night, Maamallar, Aayanar and Sivakami finally returned to the village proper, they found a large crowd gathered in front of the Naavukkarasar monastery. 

Something gleamed dully in the pearly-white radiance of the moon, amidst the milling crowd. Swords, javelins and spears.

The three immediately pressed themselves by the side of the temple wall, at the edge of the street, feeling vaguely uneasy. Who on earth could be the soldiers who had suddenly entered the village?

Maamallar and Gundodharan had indulged in a minor argument that morning. Now that the flood-waters had receded, the Prince was of the firm opinion that everything needed to be set in motion again. They would require a pot-raft; Gundodharan must row him across to the opposite bank and return. He, Maamallar, would journey to Kanchi, while Gundodharan himself would stay behind in Mandapapattu, as companion and general factotum to both Sivakami and Aayanar.

Gundodharan disagreed vehemently. He would journey to the opposite bank in Maamallar’s stead, he argued, and learn about the Pallava army’s fate; they would then decide upon a future course of action.

Maamallar agreed. He would, after all, have the opportunity of spending another day in Sivakami’s company.

Still, his mind seethed with conjectures and confusion all through the day. As evening drew closer, his heart was seized with nervousness. Why hadn’t Gundodharan returned yet? How many more days must he idle here, doing nothing?

Even as he sat on Mandapapattu’s boulders, conversing with Sivakami, drenched in the beautifully radiant moonlight, his thoughts kept wandering to his army, Gundodharan, and whatever news he might have brought with him.

***

Watching swords and spears glittering in the moonlight by Mandapapattu’s temple wall, Maamallar’s mind resounded with questions: Who were these men? Were they enemies? Or did they belong to the Pallava army? If so, did they know of Maamallar’s presence in the village – and was that why they were here? But then, they would set up a jubilant shout if they saw him, wouldn’t they? And then the villagers would know his true identity …

Aayanar, who had divined Maamallar’ state of mind more or less, came forward. “My Lord, please stay here with Sivakami. I shall find out who these men are, and their purpose here.” He walked forward.

Sivakami and Maamallar withdrew under the sprawling branches of the Mandhara tree, reaching out skywards from within the precincts of the temple. The Prince sharpened his ears, listening to the chattering men. Commander Paranjyothi’s clear, bell-like tones dominated the rest of the clamouring voices. The villagers, it seemed, were all answering him at the same time. And squawking shrilly amongst them all was the parrot Sukabrahma Rishi: “Maamalla! Maamalla!”

In an instant, the Crown Prince’s hesitation vanished. “Why, it’s our Paranjyothi! All must be well, then. Come, Sivakami, let’s join him!”

He began to step out with enthusiasm from under the tree, when Sivakami placed her hand gently, on his. “My Lord?”

In the light of the milky-white moonbeams that dappled the ground, between the branches of the Mandhara tree, Maamallar noticed teardrops, glistening like pearls, hovering on Sivakami’s lashes.

“My dearest,” he drew in a harsh breath. “What is this?” He shook out the folds of his angavasthram, and wiped her eyes gently.

“The moment you heard the voice of your Commander, I became unimportant, didn’t I?” Sivakami sobbed.

Since this had been the last thought on Maamallar’s mind, her words, not unnaturally, stupefied him. “My heart, why do you say such things? Weren’t you the one who said that I was meant to be a warrior, and promised to send me to the battlefield like a true, brave warrior-wife? How will I ever find the courage to go to battle, if you shed tears every time I leave?” He placed a hand under her chin and raised it gently towards him. The moon’s rays fell directly on Sivakami’s face, turning her naturally golden complexion into delicate, translucent ivory.

She removed his hand from her chin, folded it within her own and held it to her eyes, drenching it with her tears. “I don’t – somehow, My Lord, my heart is seized with great fear. I’m afraid that the happiest days of my life are behind me – that I shall never experience this contentment, again. My Lord – you won’t forget me, will you? Not when you’re destroying your foes in the battlefield, seated on your magnificent elephant? Not when you’re seated on your bejeweled throne, holding sway as the Pallava Emperor? You will spare a thought for this poor little sculptor’s daughter, won’t you?”

Maamallar raised a hand to the full moon. “Sivakami – as the beautiful moon sailing in the heavens is my witness, hear my words: I see no point in swearing that I will never forget you – that would be an impossible task, even if I did wish to. There can be only one reason for why you’re seized with this unknown terror – perhaps I shall lose my life in battle –”

“Ayyo! Don’t – don’t say that!” Sivakami half-sobbed. “That will never happen!”

“If it doesn’t, then there’s no question of my ever forgetting you,” Maamallar soothed. “When this war is over, Sivakami, and I take my place, at last, on the mighty throne of the Pallava Empire, you too, shall be my side. But when I leave for the battlefield, I can hope for but one of two ends: death, or victory. And if I must lose my life in battle, Sivakami – what of it? Our love isn’t just the fleeting attraction of just this life, is it? Certainly not! If I’m mortally wounded in war, my dear, and I’m still aware of myself as I’m dying, I shall pray, one last time, to the Lord who holds the moon in his tresses: Grant me this wish, that I may be born in this very land again, in my next birth – this virtuous country that has the bountiful rivers Paalaaru and Kaveri, flowing like nectar through its length. And I shall be born here again, and shall wander through every village and town it possesses. I shall look in every corner, in every direction for the woman I fell in love with – the celestial being with a beauty that challenges gods and goddesses, the most beautiful of divine sculptures ever to be made, but filled with the spirit of life. And I shall find you again, on a Karthigai evening such as this, with the moon’s brilliant rays showering upon the earth. I shall look upon your luminous face, but I shall not wonder at its unearthly beauty. I shall think, This woman’s loveliness is not hers alone – it is but the power of my own love for her, over centuries, in many lives, that lends her such charm. In your eyes, I shall see my soul, blazing with the spirit of our love. And when you smile, I shall feel the fire that burns me, slowly dying down. Here is Sivakami! Here is the woman who claimed my heart and hand centuries ago, the one who shed light in my soul in each of my lives. Hers is the radiant face I delighted in, during the bewitching twilight hours of the sarathkala moon. She is the woman who completes me, who has twined herself so well with my soul that we are together, even when we are apart. These exquisite eyes are the delicate karunguvalai flowers my eyes drown into with greed, like bees drawn to nectar. I shall look at you, and know all these in an instant. Sivakami – are you satisfied, now? Will this pledge do?”

This veritable avalanche of Maamallar’s poetic words, drenched in feeling and the urge to reassure, had struck Sivakami dumb, for the time being. Her body thrilled at his love; her skin rose in goose-pimples at the intense emotion. Exhilaration coursed through her veins. So enervated did she feel that she barely knew if she stood on earth, or floated on air.

Suddenly, jubilant shouts rent the air. “There – there is Maamallar! Look – there is the Crown Prince!” Soon, more voices joined the celebratory tones: “Long live Maamalla Pallavendra! Long life to our Prince!”

And Sivakami finally came down to earth.

“I am completely reassured, My Lord. Now go, join your men, before they find us here,” she said.

Glossary: 

Karunguvalai: Water Hyacinth. A beautiful, lavender-coloured flower that is often likened to a woman's large eyes, because of the shape of its petals.