Throne of Purvakhand

by ASHUTOSH RAI

  Sharak swung his hand twice in air spelling an unknown spell in volume of vacuum. His spell were remain unheard by everyone. A yellow ray of light surrounds him, healing his body and removing his pain.

  Saile could not heard the muted spells by Sharak. She winced in disgust. Her lips trembling in fear and eyes shadowed. ‘What trouble was this my Lord and which magic do you spell to recover from the danger?’ She managed somehow to ask thoroughly in a fluid and came to Sharak’s feet.

  Sharak didn’t reacted for a tiny silence that had grabbed the heartbeat of everyone there. He nodded and brought his head up in a slow, calm swing. He had grown his eyes red due to immense anger blazing in him. He slapped and then dragged the witch to the gate and snapped. ‘Why do you try to handle all on your brain? You brainless witch. I could have died, if I do not had the knowledge of Ashtsfurt Mantra. There is relation between me and that girl. She is my granddaughter. Twin to Ranjit. She must had a black band on her wrist which saved her from the deadly magic. Every deadly spells done on her will have its effect on me after eighteen days. Every dawn I pray to the Lord Jakrant that she never remove that band. That band is my lifeline. Never dare to harm her again.’

  Saile was on her knees, stunned, shivering and outside the gate of palace. She has no idea of it. She cast a look back on Sharak. An amicable gaze at the face of the man whom she loves, the man whom she calls her emperor, her lord. She turned and stared the black marble of floor and started praying her God, The Evil Lord Jakrant.

  With the advancing night, Saras reached near the foot of the Great Uttarmathons Mountains. Light glowing fireflies had covered the night sky with twinkling stars. It was cold near the foot of Uttarmathons. The slow breeze whizzed around the bank of Shanti River was pleasing his body with freshness. His wounds had now become just a memory. Saras tied his horse to a strong rosewood tree. He fired some dried leaves and thick dried wood stick that he found fallen on ground nearby trees of rosewood. He laid on ground in heat of fire which will protect him from the cold smooth breeze of big icy mountains of Uttarmathons, remembering his child days when he sleeps every night in lap of his mother and she recites new stories to the little Saras. He could feel he sand grains beneath his body. Their coldness gave his hungry body. Today he got nothing except two black berries. His stomach was aching but the heat produced by fire gave his body strength to control his hunger. He could not afford meat and this was not because he had no penny but it was due to the tradition he follows. He had taken oath to not kill and have any animal in his meal. He can attack an animal only in his own defence. Gita and Nandkant had grown him in shadow of tradition that once were pride of Purvakhand. Virnagre, the great kingdom known had a flexibility in its rule with the few very rigid codes. The rigidity were certain. Promise done can’t be broken in Virnagre. The words of the king were revered but he was never the only absolute ruler. A committee of elites called Satyarathi was elected by people through different examinations and those Satyarathi helped the king in running the kingdom. And any caste in Virnagre was not allowed to have meat in their meal. Killing animals unnecessary and poaching them was punishable offence. A man or woman who tried to kill innocent animals, rape opposite gender or lie and found corrupted were sentenced to death. In terms of flexible laws, anyone in Virnagre can be a warrior or can choose any job of his like irrespective of his Varna and this was the reason that they were not allowed specific seals or amulets for their caste. People had faith in each other. The most untraditional thing happen there was the kingship. A man who had achieved highest marks in his gurukul and had been allotted the superior caste: Brahman, can only rule the kingdom. There Brahman was not the man who was master in Vedas and other scripture but Brahman was the man who excels in every field of life. No man had a birth caste. Men achieved caste by their works. The ancient temples of Virnagre had no statue. Instead there were empty altar in temple where it is said that the gods use to appear when one prays with a clean heart. Polygamy and irresponsive divorce were strictly prohibited. But as later many other small and big religions came to in existence, the council of elites and ministers gave some flexibility in traditions that don’t harm society and other old rules of Virnagre. The people were given in choice of meal. People who belong to other religions were free to follow their own tradition. They could have meat in their meal and can have more than one wife if the first wife is unable to bear children or if she is irresponsive to her family and social duties. But this was not simple as said. The man must have the permission of his wife before he gets married to other women. Brothels were never found in Virnagre. At least, before twenty three years. This all were some flexibility that gave enormous strength to Virnagre. But for this time Saras was not concerning about Virnagre. His eyes had closed to sleep and his mind was travelling in the past memories. A calm smile crept on his lips remembering the happy childish days of past and then his eyes released a small flow of tears, short but filled with emotions. He realised as his mother Gita was calling his name in her always soft whisper.

  It was a time for dinner. Abhiyudh, Kumud, Mahmud, Dravid and Avneish, all sat on peedha, a small wide stool of wood and the foods were served by the royal servants on a small wide table of wood designed of similar wide rectangular structure with height of two padas more than that of peedha.

  Abhiyudh clapped to call the doorkeeper. He orders him, ‘Where is Prince Ranjit. Call him now?

  The doorkeeper was young with a barely aroused moustache and wide eyebrows. He bowed and replied, ‘Prince refused. He is busy in his science lab.’

  ‘Oh! My god. This boy has irritated me. Have your dinner.’ Abhiyudh was disappointed. He turned his head to the doorkeeper. ‘You said him what I told you to say?

  ‘Yes, my king. I do.’ The doorkeeper had a firmness in his whisper.

  Abhiyudh nodded and stared other who were at dinner. Mahmud, Dravid, Avneish and Kumud. They all were waiting for him to start. Abhiyudh gave a casual smile and they all started taking the dishes of dinner. Everyone was devoted to the dinner except Kumud. She hardly ate anything. She was disturbed.

  ‘So is he a Scientist?’ Mahmud asked taking a drink of liquor.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Abhiyudh cutting a carrot and then rolling it between his jaws. ‘A good one in eyes of others but I don’t like his experiments. They are time taking and he fails many time in results. I have taught him lessons of sword, mace and wrestling. I will feel good if you all teach him more in other war skills. I mean you could make him excellence in any one weapon or two or in every. He hear me but follows his own.’

  Staring at Abhiyudh, Dravid takes a taste of fried bluefish and asked eagerly, ‘In my knowledge Sumath university is now closed. So where did you send him to became a Scientist? There is a secret I don’t know!’

  Abhiyudh guffawed loudly and his liquor glided into his neck. For a while he got chocked. Clearing his throat he said, ‘Thirteen years ago, one day when my people were celebrating the festival of Rangcola, my son went somewhere and for many days he was away from me. I was completely distressed and then one a learned man, dressed as a saint, holding Khartal and Veena in his hands and reciting “Narayana-Narayana” descends from heaven to Mount Sehu with my son. He dropped him to the palace and disappeared. My son said that he was Sage Narad, the messenger of Devas, literally the gods. And he had learned Ayurveda, music, dance and some physics from him. That was a blessed day as after many days I could sleep.’ Everyone looked at him with a bitterness. Avneish gritted his teeth as to him every words of a Vanara are puzzle. Abhiyudh paused himself staring back the eyes that had been staring him. ‘Don’t you believe me?’ Abhiyudh told them, questioning and waiting for their faith.

  ‘Don’t you think that you….’ Dravid couldn’t complete his sentence. He was amazed that Abhiyudh smiled on his uncompleted question.

  ‘I know Dravid that you all think that I am an opportunist. But believe me, my every day in this atmosphere of dark silence had made me weak and diseased. It really hardly c
ount that what should I say. I am not a liar and you know this. I am too a Satyarathi. I too had lived my twenty three years in hatred. I too hate the black flag. I too want to thrust my sword in Sharak’s heart,’ said Abhiyudh blankly. ‘I said what I heard from my son. I saw that man and I believed in words of my son. You too have believed in his words if you had saw that sage. I got my son back. But I was still weak. My daughter was rising far from me in an enemy land and today I am a stranger for her. Till this tonight I am lacking only one thing. I was my daughter Kumud. In a war I lost her. For some reason which I don’t want to remember, I gave her to Vikrant. The man whom I hate most. The Bastard. A dog of Sharak. But see what luck I have! I met her today. She is sitting before me and today my whole family is here in my palace with me. I should be happy. I should party now but I can’t because I lost someone who cared me most. She was my sister.’

  Everyone heard him silently. Mahmud and Dravid appeared to barely believing in Abhiyudh. Now no one could eat more, especially Kumud, who hardly ate a bread and drank four glass of water. She was not liking to remember or hear about it again. For her that day was a curse.

  Kumud stared Abhiyudh angrily for calling Vikrant ‘a bastard’. She would have murdered him for that if it was not the dinner place. She was confused too about the behaviour of Abhiyudh who repeatedly calls her, his own daughter whom he had lost many years before as a result of war with Sharak.

  Enraged with anger, she rose to her feet and spluttered, ‘What do you mean by the lost? Where were you when your sister died fighting bravely and what you did in past.’ She continued staring Abhiyudh surly but Abhiyudh smiled gently. She continued, ‘You did only one thing. You said a ‘NO’ to your friends. You denied from fighting against the evil. And for your kind information I am daughter of General Vikrant and Usha. And I hate those men who hate my father. How can say anything and how anybody will believe in you just because you were once a Satyarathi? I am not going to believe your words. A Satyarathi, especially when he is king, he should be truthful. A king is obeyed till he is truthful otherwise he is dethroned. You lost your sister and I too lost many thing but it never meant that we will speak thoroughly anything about anyone without knowing about him. Never dare to abuse my father.’

  Everyone was shocked except Avneish. A cruel smile appeared on his beard face. He mocked, ‘I heard that Vanaras are one of most intelligent beings on earth. But here is a different drama. The Vanara king used his mind and the result is very disappointing. The king of Vanaras failed. I don’t know how these people can forget their history. You must know that a coward fails always.’ The inner soul of young son of Dravid started prancing and shouting inaudibly. He can now ridicule the Vanaras. He was avenging the Vanaras for the incident of fort gate happened in mid-day.

  Kumud stared Avneish with anger. She warned him. ‘I will not tolerate this. Mend your ways.’

  ‘But Sister, I was just trying to say the truth.’ Avneish tried to give his excuse but was firmly stopped by Kumud. Her eyes were filled with tears. She cried, ‘Please! I don’t want to hear anything. I need silence.’ She can’t handle her anger more. She walked out.

  Avneish was stunned hearing her.

  Abhiyudh frowned. He can’t see tears in his daughter’s eyes. He would like to kill Avneish on the spot. But he diverted his anger from his clenched fist to his sharp words. ‘You know my heart was prancing because I had my daughter sitting before me and a very thankful sentiment to you that you believe that apes are one of most intelligent being. But can you imagine any Rikkshar you had brain. Rikkshar are filled with arrogance, hatred and violence. I am in dilemma because you are my guest and this is your first day. I can’t punish you. Today an arrogant senseless bear made my daughter cry. I had never hoped that Rikkshar are animals.’

  ‘I am not a bear. I am not an animal. I am a Rikkshar,’ said Avneish proudly and brought his fingers together. ‘You can try to punish me if you think that you have enough strength to do that.’

  Dravid interrupts and objurgates his son for his obtuse behaviour. ‘Why you can’t talk as a gentleman. Where have you gone when the God was giving brain full of knowledge and gentleness to the coming beings? You always give me a chance to fell down in shame and insulted before others. You have time. You are young. Just try hold your tongue and have taste of respect and sweetness for others in your words.’

  Mahmud asked, ‘Abhiyudh, Avneish is too right? I know that A Satyarathi can’t speak untruth because I am too the same but Avneish and others are not. They will raise the question that how are you sure that she is your lost daughter. Can you answer?’

  Abhiyudh’s eyes gave an arc of satisfaction as someone gave him the opportunity he was waiting for. Someone had asked him the question he was eager to answer. He took a long breath and then narrates his story of pain.

  ‘It was happened twenty years ago, my wife Nisha gave birth to two twins. I fathered a daughter and a son. Their small fingers were representing the beautiful side of the coin of my life.’ Abhiyudh took a pause as he walked through the room and sat on a chair. He began again, ‘Usha, wife of General Vikrant and best friend of my wife Nisha was then here to congrats us. It the time when Sharak has won Kingdom of Kundey and General Vikrant with his troop of one thousand soldiers flew from there and comes to me for help and then we fought against Sharak and Nasur. The war took turn when Vikrant started fighting for enemies. He betrayed me. I was defeated. I was imprisoned with my family. After two days, I was taken before Sharak as a convict. Sharak asked me to support the black flag and rule under his supremacy and I rejected his proposal. He became furious and killed Nisha, her own daughter. He thought that I would be forced to succumb but before dying. Nisha build an armour for us. She cursed him that if I will be not an independent king and if anyone, either me or my children were harmed by his men then after eighteen days of any harm made to us, the curse will show its result on him. He will feel the pain of the harm made to us. If we are being killed by him or his followers, he will die of no doubt. This was her sacrifice for our independence. Many months before her death, she had informed me of her one promise, which she had made to Usha. After her death, I had to carry out her promise. Even my soul had started hating Vikrant but I gave Kumud to Usha for the promise made. It was my duty. I can’t trust her. But at last a promise is always a promise like our oath of being a Satyarathi. I knew that a women can foster a girl child better but my heart was not approving it. But again, concealing my emotions, deserting my revenge, I gave my daughter to Vikrant and his wife.’ Tears trickled in a line and submerged into his impenetrable matted beards. Cleaning his face, he sighed. ‘Sharak regretted his mistake and made four bands from Nisha’s ashes. Those four bands had Nisha’s love wrapped in form of powder. He tied them to left hand of both my kids so he may live long. He even gave one to me which I threw later in River Shukanya. But I left the bands on my children. The band on Ranjit’s wrist had always made me remember of that day and the band on Kumud’s wrist is proof of my truth. That band had saved her from quakjajaru. I know that band saved my daughter from that deadly spell which killed my sister. She is alive only because of the band Sharak made but I will never forgive him. Nisha was his daughter and he didn’t blinked while killing her. She had left her devil father because he was an accused man. A characterless King. Nisha was born from his lust when he disrobed a nun in his own kingdom. That nun leaved Chandier before Nisha’s birth. No one can feel well under the evil environment that upsurge from land of Chandier.’ His eyes were filled and his head was trembling with the fury which he had concealed within himself with the truth of Kumud. He sobbed, ‘my daughter didn’t recognise me. She hates me and so you all.’

  ‘You should say this story to Kumud. She has right to know the truth of her life’, suggested a convinced Dravid.

  Mahmud joined Dravid. ‘We are sorry. We thought that you are playing. You must say her her truth. I had watched her since her childhood. She will trust you. She can read the truth of eyes.
’

  Abhiyudh walked to the room he had given to her. He dismissed the guards from the door and narrated the story but she still could not believe on it. He brain says her that it was fake story. An own mind creation of Abhiyudh. But her heart betrayed her brain.

  ‘I can’t believe on you,’ said a disturbed Kumud, turning back.

  ‘Why?’ argued Abhiyudh. ‘I have proof.’

  ‘Then go ahead. Prove yourself’, said Kumud smirking.

  Abhiyudh said, ‘The black band you have can clear all your misunderstanding. Believe me and open it. It has ashes of your mother.’

  ‘Ashes?’ Kumud eyed Abhiyudh with distressed surprise. ‘Open it?’ She said crisply. ‘My mother said me to never open it.’

  Abhiyudh shook his head. He could not find the way to prove him and then his eyes stopped on Kumud’s left wrist. He snatches the band from her hand and as he does it, the ashes that had been concealed within it, sprawled on floor. Kumud stared the floor with surprise at first but that was not enough to her. She was not ready to hear and believe in words of the king of Kapikshetra.

  Abhiyudh sped to her, clutched her hand tightly and said, ‘Remember a Satyarathi never speak untruth. You are my daughter. My blood. You have grown up and I should not say these words but there is a….’ Abhiyudh holds a pause. It was very uneasy to say for him. He stared her silently and growled, ‘You had forced me to say this. You may feel weird but this is a truth. I am you father. Real father. And I had a proof that may feel you sorry. There is a mark of a wound on your left thigh. I mean on upper part of your right leg. Actually it is mark of wound given to you by the arrow of your foster father Vikrant.’ Abhiyudh left her hand with a melancholic tuned sentence. ‘I know you may have been said that it is a birth mark but it is not. I am your real father. A poor father who had to sacrifice her daughter for pact of dark threatening silence. Believe me I am a Satyarathi not a liar. Yes, sometime I may look like a selfish man but indeed I do all this for my people. I gave you to Vikrant because I can’t stain your mother’s soul. I did that cruel offence to complete the promise. Promise should never be broken. It stains the soul.’