by Binodini
An influential nobleman who liked him advised discretion, but Meri answered airily, ‘But what is the problem, Uncle, as long as I do no wrong.’
‘You will find yourself in the wrong, my son. I am telling you this. If this is come to be seen as treading on the king’s garment, you will suffer ill fortune. I am telling you this because I am fond of you. When the time comes, you will not be able to say that you have done no wrong.’
‘Why would I be in the wrong? Is it wrong to love a woman?’
‘The woman you love is no common woman. She is the daughter of the king.’
‘What are you saying, that the daughter of the king is not a woman?’
‘How stubborn this boy is—don’t start with this arrogance of your Yaiskul people. My words will come true tomorrow. If you think you are born of Yaiskul and decide not to listen, there is nothing I can do.’
It was true.
In those days, the courtiers from Yaiskul were disliked by other people. They were mocked as the arrogant, disrespectful people of Yaiskul. People said, ‘They think they are doing the palace a favour by being courtiers.’
As Yaiskul folk related at great length, ‘Actually, let us just say even the Divine Majesty Chandrakirti asks for his turban to be straightened when he is approaching Yaiskul … … … .’
The people of Yaiskul loved to tell this story no end. They repeated it over and over again to people they did not like. Gifted at embellishment, the people of Yaiskul lengthened the story every time they told it.
The people of Yaiskul said, ‘Let us put it this way, even the Divine Majesty Chandrakirti is afraid of coming near Yaiskul. Have you not heard?’
‘Yes, yes, we have all heard, man. The story about adjusting his turban, right? Yes, we have heard, we know, now shut up.’
What with being from Yaiskul, favoured by the king, and with his good looks and all, Meri had himself heard that he was disliked. But he was immersed in his music and did not pay it much mind. He was submerged in his music. He was in love with Princess Phandengsana. He thought of nothing else. Impatiently, he ran to the Lady of Thokchom and said, ‘Please do something for me, Your Highness.’
‘What is the matter?’
‘I must see his royal daughter today. I have composed a new song. I have to let Her Highness hear it first … … … and then I will offer it to Lord Govinda. Please set it up for me.’
‘You are going much too far. It won’t be good for either of us if word gets out. You will die, and I will be sent packing home for sure.’
‘I don’t know anything about that. I have to let Her Royal Highness hear this song. … … … I am kowtowing to you and touching your feet, please let me see her. I will never ask you again.’
In this way, Meri pestered the Lady of Thokchom many times beyond count. The Lady of Thokchom was annoyed, but seeing his face and his manner, she could not say no.
Meri emerged from the Lady of Thokchom’s. He came across Chancellor Lamphel, standing in his way. He looked at him. He did not like that look. Lamphel asked, ‘Where are you coming from? It is getting dark.’
‘I had gone to convey a reply to a message the Lady of Thokchom had sent with me to her royal birthplace.’
‘Are you telling me the Divine Majesty has not assigned a junior attendant to the Lady of Thokchom to run messages back and forth to her royal birthplace?’
‘I do not know anything about that. It is also common practice to convey messages through people of the locality, Chancellor. Is there anything wrong with that?’
‘The chancellor should know himself whether there is anything wrong or not. How would I know—nor is it my place to know.’ Chancellor Lamphel’s answer was barbed.
‘If it is not for you to know, then it is better that you do not want to know.’ With head held high, Meri brushed by Chancellor Lamphel.
General Thanggal’s son Chancellor Lamphel was a prominent figure in the palace. He was a man useful to the king of the land. One day an argument between the two young men at the household security council escalated into a fight. Without considering whether it was appropriate or not, Lamphel said, ‘Word of the chancellor loitering in the colonies of the royal ladies has reached the royal ears. It would behove you to proceed with care.’
‘What loitering?’
‘The Lady of Thokchom is the youngest wife of the Divine Majesty.’
‘The Lady of Thokchom also happens to be my neighbourhood sister.’
‘Even so, she has become the king’s consort.’
‘Even so, she is like my younger sister.’
‘The chancellor has also driven the royal princess crazy.’
‘And what about that is bothering you?’
‘The chancellor is blind because you have the king’s favour.’
‘Is it my fault that His Majesty favours me?’
‘Stepping on the hem of the king’s garment will be your crime. … If you wish to know the palace, it would do well to know the court etiquette of the palace.’
‘If my love for Princess Phandengsana violates the etiquette of the court, so be it.’
‘The palace is not like the neighbourhoods of commoners. It is not the practice in the palace to sit smoking a pipe beside a maiden’s loom.’
‘Is it the court practice in the palace to be disingenuous? I am not very good at faking it. And the courtier’s ways that say that the princess cannot be loved are not for me. I am also of the Chingakham clan. Why does not the chancellor also try his luck? Is Princess Phandengsana the only princess?’
‘I am only saying it is not the court etiquette of the palace.’
‘And what about with the gods in heaven above?’
‘But the palace is not heaven above. It is a matter of court etiquette. You were prematurely promoted to the rank of chancellor and do not seem to have had the time to learn the etiquette of courtiers.’
Meri laughed and replied, ‘No, I did not get a chance to learn the courtiers’ ways that say one cannot love. If someone like the chancellor had shown the way, it might have been better.’
Their confrontation spiralled. People stepped in and stopped them.
It was Meri’s mistake to earn the enmity of Chancellor Lamphel. He should not have challenged Lamphel. Meri had not thought it through—he had been a fool. Chancellor Lamphel was the scion of an illustrious and powerful family. His father Thanggal had been in royal service since the reign of Maharaja Gambhirsingh, Protector of the Hills and Skies. He himself was also an up-and-coming nobleman.
And what of Meri? He was fortunate to get to know the king on his own merit. It was not easy for him to rise up the ranks in the palace. He did not have the power to gather allies in the palace. Meri was a fool, he was merely a foolish singer of songs. Coming up against Lamphel was like an egg coming up against a rock. And it was also said, there was no royal lady who was not infatuated with Lamphel.
But Meri was saying, ‘Why do you tidy others’ houses without tidying your own? Is good trumped by those with powerful allies?’
There was another murky stream running in the bowels of the palace. There were many stories, merging and flowing in the palace, that were widely known but not spoken about out loud. These stories had many holes, many exaggerations.
There was a story about Chancellor Lamphel that was whispered from ear to ear. It seems to have taken place before Meri had become a courtier in the palace. Meri heard it too—and so he had no respect for Lamphel and found it quietly amusing that he would instruct him about the etiquette of the palace. What he had heard was that a well-known married royal lady of the palace and Lamphel had fallen in love. Their affair intensified but they seemed to not care—for Lamphel was the son of Thanggal. Unable to tolerate this any longer, the woman’s husband came to the palace one day. Upon seeing him enter, the Divine Majesty Chandrakirti sent everyone away and asked, ‘What is it, my man?’ It was as if the king knew what he was going to be asked. The walls have the ears of the king, as they say. The
man said, ‘Your Majesty, branches of the imperial sacred fig growing in the royal compound have overgrown—may your servant take care of it?’
‘Hm. I have been thinking that too. You may prune the branches that you do not like. But do not chop it all down, he is of use to the land.’
But Meri should not have tussled with Lamphel. He was a man of great venom—a powerful man. Meri lived happily in his dreams of Princess Phandengsana. He was truly taken by surprise by the punishment he received for casting a spell on Princess Phandengsana. He realized when he woke up to reality that he had been a fool—it had been foolish to wrangle with someone who meant nothing to him.
Meri was punished for having loved. The punishment was thus—first his house was turned upside down and then he was taken prisoner. Utom, a son of the Narongbam clan, and Chaoba, a son of the Athokpam clan, were also imprisoned for having carried messages for him. He was spread out in the sun at Minuthong Bridge on Wednesday. At Nongpokthong Gate on Thursday, and on Friday, at his home in Moirangkhom. For having cast a love spell on the princess, Meri was taken to all the holy temple sites and made to pay obeisance. They made a wooden frame and spreadeagled Meri in the sun upon it in front of the palace citadel. Word was sent throughout the land and the public was made to look at Chancellor Meri who had loved, who had loved the daughter of the king. He had first encountered his punishment as he was coming from taking part in a debate at a forum on the finer points of melodic frameworks and modes. He had come out humming a melodic mode—and he had stumbled.
Meri was not seen in the palace any more after this—his name was expunged. There was only one person he was ashamed in front of upon his departure, and that was Chancellor Lamphel. And there were only two people he worried about—What would become of Princess Phandengsana! Would they implicate the Lady of Thokchom?
Sanatombi saw Chancellor Meri when he was spread out in the sun in front of the palace citadel. She held her nurse’s hand and was among the onlookers. She could not bear to see Meri—she could not believe that the man in the loincloth with the shaved head was Meri. She put her arms around her nurse and hid her face, and said, ‘Let’s go, mother, I do not want to see any more, let’s go to the Grand Queen Mother.’ She burst into tears when she got to the Grand Queen Mother. And she said, ‘They are killing Ta’Meri … … … .’
She could not believe, she did not believe, that Meri had cast a spell on her royal aunt Phandengsana. She remembered many things. Her little mind whirled.
She did not understand why her aunt had hit her one day.
Princess Phandengsana had said, ‘Sanatombi, can you go the dancers’ council for me?’
‘Why not? I go there all the time. I go to watch Lukhoi learn to dance.’
Lukhoi was little then and would go to the dancers’ council though he had not started to learn how to dance. He was just dancing by himself.
Phandengsana said, ‘Very well then, please go there for me.’
‘For what?’
Phandengsana thought for a bit, and said, ‘You know what, Lukhoi grabbed a ring of mine and ran off with it. Go see if he is wearing it or not. Just look, and don’t say anything. If his mother hears she will think I am spying on him and get angry. … And see if Ta’Meri the chancellor has come. If he is there, tell him my mother the Lady of Thokchom asks if he is ill or what. Do not let other people hear you.’
Sanatombi went to the dancers’ council and came back. ‘Lukhoi is wearing a ring on his hand. He said bad words when I asked him. I must really beat up this kid good one of these days. I don’t care if Royal Mother gets angry or not. It was so funny, as if he is dancing and all … … … . How is he allowed to dance, Royal Aunt … … … ?’
‘Did you ask what I asked you to?
‘I asked. I told you he said some bad words. He says it is his.’
‘Not that, what about what I told you to ask Ta’Meri?
‘I didn’t ask that. He was singing. Uncle Paka and all were sitting there too.’
‘Go away. This child cannot even do as she is told.’ She grabbed at her a little and pulled at her hand.
Sanatombi was upset, but she asked again, ‘Shall I go again, Royal Aunt?’
‘Don’t bother, you fool, you’re so careless.’
Sanatombi was left wondering, ‘What happened?’
Some time passed. Princess Phandengsana was to be married into the Angom clan. Preparations began. Dowry gifts were arranged, each a hundredfold—one hundred spindles, one hundred spinning wheels. Sanatombi went into her royal aunt’s room one day. She was crying—Phandengsana was weeping.
Upon seeing Sanatombi, she said, ‘I will kill myself. I will throw myself from the elephant and kill myself … … … .’
Sanatombi’s anxiety knew no bounds. She ran to her great-grandmother and said to her, ‘Grand Queen Mother, Royal Aunt says she will jump off the elephant and kill herself when she is in the wedding procession.’
‘She is just saying so, my child,’ she replied, but it made the Lady of Meisnam think.
Then, next, she ran to her grandfather the king and said, ‘Sovereign Grandfather, what will Royal Aunt be sent on?’
‘On an elephant—on the Beast of Moirang.’
‘Can we not send her in a palanquin?’
‘Why? We will have to send you in a palanquin for yours. Are you afraid of elephants?’
‘No, I am not afraid. Have I not ridden on many?’
‘Then why do you ask?’
‘I was just asking.’
Sanatombi never forgot her aunt’s words. She did not go in the wedding procession that took her aunt after her wedding. She refused to go. Sanatombi could not rest until she heard that her aunt had not thrown herself off the elephant.
CHAPTER 3
It was only four or five days until the Procession of the Crow. Sanatombi and Lukhoi ran around, playing, and hardly spent any time in the colony of their father, the crown prince. The two children wandered around the colonies of the court that were dyeing clothes, putting back together the Swallow’s Nest, and was preparing for the Crow. Many people gathered at the residence of the Grand Queen Mother. They were busy sewing, stitching, embroidering. They had started making the complete outfit for their royal grandfather Chandrakirti to wear when he came out to take part in the Crow. All this was great fun for the two children.
The Procession of the Crow was the day after tomorrow. The colour for that year was to be shocking pink. That year, starting with the king, the crown prince, the commander-in-chief, and all the noblemen would all change into upper and lower garments in shocking pink.
The Lady of Ngangbam, queen consort of the crown prince, and all her attendants, had begun to dye pink the sash and sarong that Crown Prince Surchandra would change into in the palace. For five or ten days they had been fetching water from the big river and storing it in large pots. The green lawn of the crown prince’s colony was covered with white clothes drying in the sun. They were being bleached white first with vegetable ash before they were dyed, or the colour would not be dazzling bright. The meticulous Premamayi, Lady of Ngangbam, walked around inspecting everything.
The elephants Kondumba and Moirangsa that were to be the mounts of the Divine Majesty arrived. There were also several male elephants to be ridden by the princes. The king would come out riding two elephants yoked together side by side. On either side of him, two princes as the right-hand sword bearer and the left-hand sword bearer. Members of the judiciary and the armoury, bearing the fore spear, aft spear and the spear of Luwang, would guard the king. They had started rebuilding the Swallow’s Nest again. The fringe of its embroidered velvet canopy had its peacock feathers replaced. All the halls of the royal court gleamed. Sanatombi and Prince Lukhoi held their nurses’ hands and had a great time watching the elephants tethered in front of the palace citadel, as they picked up banana palms with their trunks and smashed them to shreds against their enormous legs before eating them. The mahouts had the children watch as th
ey made a young male elephant get down on his knees and raise his two front legs so that it looked like he was sitting on his haunches. They dropped a half-sel coin in front of him. After making the elephant pick up the half-sel coin with its trunk and raise it in a salute, they made it bellow. Startled, the two children grabbed their nurses. This time they had also brought a small baby elephant. The mother and baby elephant were not here to take part in the procession but had simply been brought to be shown to the Divine Majesty. The baby elephant had been born in the stable to the elephant Ngakhaibi. One could not get enough of watching it. The two children watched and laughed helplessly as the baby elephant nodded off drowsily and then as it ran between the legs of its mother.
Lukhoi said, ‘You know, I will be riding the elephant tomorrow.’
Sanatombi asked him in surprise, ‘Why you?’
‘I am saying I am going to be riding the elephant with Sovereign Grandfather tomorrow.’
‘You’re going to be in the Crow tomorrow?’
‘Yes. I am going to be riding in the Swallow’s Nest with Sovereign Grandfather.’
‘As if they’ll let you.’
‘Yes, they will. Sovereign Grandfather told me to ride. Father has also said I could. Grand Queen Mother has also agreed. Everyone has agreed.’
‘As if I believe you. Are you the king or what?’
‘Even so, I am allowed. You are not—you’re a girl.’
Sanatombi flared up in anger and ran off to her co-mother the Lady of Ngangbam. The Lady of Ngangbam was very busy at the time. She was folding the slightly damp clothes and making her servants smoothen them with their hands. They would be pressed with the iron later. There were so many clothes today. The pile also included those of the royal younger brother Koireng. His consort had come quite a while before the Crow to wash his clothes. The two sisters consulted each other as they washed the clothes together. They didn’t wash them themselves; they were only said to be washing the clothes together but really the two sisters just wanted to chat, and so she came often. The Lady of Ngangbam, consort of the crown prince, and Angangmacha, the consort of Koireng, were real sisters. Because of this relation, the two women felt close to these two princes. Both these maids of Ngangbam were very clever. They visited each other often, consulted with each other frequently and exchanged many bits of news.
