A New Beginning

by Graham Sealby

CHAPTER 5

  It was a warm sunny day with a light onshore breeze as Adlai stood on the docking pier at Barbarikon, watching the dhow carrying his uncle edge closer. It was an ungainly looking vessel with a single lateen sail, but these vessels had proved their seaworthiness through many a monsoonal gale. Idra, standing on the raised aft deck, waved enthusiastically to him.

  Idra again marveled how the trading port had grown over the years. Barbarikon, being the only navigable outlet of the mighty Indus River, had expanded to become an important settlement. But he’d heard that some of the cargo was being transshipped to Barigaza, on the Narmada. What this would mean for Barbarikon would have to be discussed.

  Now Adlai, still waving enthusiastically, was momentarily drawn to the skill of the helmsman in getting the dhow snugged against the wharf. Using the onshore breeze, the helmsman allowed the boat to drift sideways onto the end of the jetty. Then, with the sail lowered, he used the force of the wind and the corner of the wharf to turn the stern of the dhow around until the boat lay parallel to the pier with the bow pointing seawards. Impressive.

  When lines were played out to secure the vessel, Adlai was able to board and be embraced by Idra’s welcoming arms. In his enthusiasm, Adlai almost tripped over a berthing line as he rushed to greet his uncle. Then, with genuine affection, the two men hugged warmly.

  “Adlai, Adlai. Come. Come let me look at you.” Holding Adlai at arm’s length, he surveyed his charge.

  It was a very different Adlai to the stumbling fearful young boy, who had made the voyage after that terrible fateful day. Now twenty-one, Adlai had been completely transformed from the gangly youth who arrived in Barbarikon eight years before.

  What Idra saw was a finely muscled young man of athletic build. He had grown tall – around 180 cm with not a suspicion of indulging in good living. But it was his face that immediately drew attention. His face radiated confidence and the usual mixture of arrogance and conviction so often found in young men. And there was a burning intensity in his eyes that conveyed intelligence, knowledge, and compassion.

  As Idra looked into Adlai’s eyes, he felt pride. Pride as if Adlai was his own son.

  Eiveh! How the lad had changed. He’s only twenty-one summers and already he has the mark of maturity on him. Yusuf would be proud to see how his son has developed - the years of responsibility have molded him into a warm and caring young man. He’s fast becoming a natural born leader.

  To Adlai, Idra looked as if he was losing his battle with old age.

  He looks older and seems to lack the resilience that has endeared him, in the past, to me and all the workers in the storehouse. There are more lines now on his face and his eyes no longer sparkled with intelligence. Ahh, mortality how it catches up even with such a vibrant man as Idra. My own Abba must also be burdened with the onset of old age. I miss him. And Emma.

  Seeing his uncle somewhat diminished came as an unpleasant surprise. But just as he was dwelling on the changes in his uncle, another voice from behind disturbed his musing. . .

  “Manit 44, Manit. Welcome, welcome. It is so good to see you again, dear friend.” This from a tall Hindi man in his forties sporting an immaculately wrapped turban and impressive barbered beard.

  “Kirit, Kirit”, exclaimed Idra ‘What a refreshing sight you are. My, you’re looking more handsome each time I come to your shores. It’s evident that your lady wife is pampering you. Tell me is Jalbala still as beautiful as when I last left?”

  “Yes, yes Manit,” Kirit sighed. “As she has grown older her tongue has grown sharper. But as a man blessed also with two daughters, I’m indeed a happy man – at least when I can escape all the ceaseless female chatter.”

  “Aha,” laughed Idra. “It seems that our good wives and daughters all have something in common. They beguile us - particularly in our advancing years. But tell me – how is the beautiful Somya? When last I left, she was only a child of 12 summers. I suppose she has grown into a beautiful young woman?”

  At the mention of Somya, Idra noticed a look of hostility pass from Kirit to Adlai. Suddenly, the atmosphere became tense. Idra was a man who prided himself on picking up negative vibrations from other people.

  Something has happened between Somya and Adlai. Kirit is disapproving. I must tread carefully and find out what has happened before I say anymore. Somya would now be 15 summers and I suspect has grown into a beautiful young woman. Eiveh! I did not foresee this. I must talk to Adlai before I can discuss any problem with Kirit.

  “Oh yes Manit, she has indeed and is much sought after. I’ll soon be looking around for a suitable husband for her. But more of this later. Tonight, I’ve taken the liberty of arraigning a dinner in your honour. There you’ll meet both my wife and two daughters. It’ll be my privilege.”

  There is an edge in Kirit’s voice and I see that he has directed his remarks more to Adlai than me. I must defuse this situation before any harm can be done. Eiveh – I hope I’m not too late.

  “Delighted!” exclaimed Idra. “But please dear friend don’t keep addressing me as ‘Respected One’. We’re old friends and it would honour me to call you my brother and ask that you do the same.”

  “Thank you. Yes, our friendship has indeed been a great delight. I do regard you as special in my heart. I’ll look forward to you both tonight around sundown.” And to Adlai, a little bluntly,

  “I’m sure you know the way, Adlai.”

  Any tension was dispelled by the arrival of the Dhow’s captain and Kirit went with him to oversee the unloading.

  After taking his farewells to the captain and discussing details of the shipment with Kirit, Adlai and Idra walked to the residence that had been established initially by Idra and then enlarged by Adlai.

  Long an admirer of roman dwellings, Idra had laid out the residence in the format of a roman villa with living quarters surrounding a courtyard in the centre. In the courtyard was a water well, and gardens that flowered almost all year round. Palm trees were artfully planted to give pleasant, and necessary, shade from the sun. Many colored birds such as the Alexandrian parakeet and red- vented bulbul also used the trees as resting places.

  Seating was provided by benches made from Jarrah trees and placed so that private conversations could be held in a relaxed atmosphere. The garden beds were awash with coloured Lilies and other tropical plants.

  Waiting to greet him at the front portico was Dayaal the master steward, and his wife Madhul who had looked after the villa from the beginning. They made a comic pair. Where Dayaal was lean and tall, Madhul was short and substantial. But she had a heart of gold and fiercely prided herself on her cooking.

  “Honorable master,” cried Dayaal. “We have been awaiting your arrival with joy. I swear you don’t look a day older than when you left.”

  “Liar,” answered Idra. “I see that you are as flattering as ever. I should correct you but of course you speak the truth.” This brought laughter all round.

  “Aiyyeek!” shrieked Madhul. “But you have lost weight. Doesn’t your fair wife cook for you like Madhul? A prosperous man, such as you, should look portly to show his good fortune and business genius. I have . . .”

  “Hush, woman hush. Give the man time to relax. You can be overbearing at times. Give our master time to bathe, change, and relax before you force food upon him. He will enjoy your cooking in his own good time. Now, away with you.”

  And so, by mid afternoon, Idra bathed and fed, sat down in the courtyard with Adlai, to bring each other up to date with news. Adlai also knew he must give an account of his stewardship.

  But first Adlai was bursting to hear the news from home.

  “Please Uncle what of my Abba and Emma. Are they well?”

  “Yes, yes, they are indeed. But of course, age is catching up and they’re slowing down, as we all do. But you need not be concerned. Your abba is still active and healthy – as is your Emma.”

  Then with a sigh and a faint shaking of his head he remarked sadly,

&n
bsp; “Of course, they will never come to terms with losing Magdella. I don’t believe any of us will. I know I won’t.”

  Anxiously Adlai pressed,

  “But what of Tavi? Where is he and what’s he doing? Even though he was severe with me, I miss him.”

  “He’s safe and has assumed leadership of a band of Zealots. They harass the Romans with some success and our people appreciate this. They are thankful for the Zealots helping them in every possible way. To many of our people, they are heroes. I think very quietly, your abba is proud of Tavi.”

  “That’s nothing new. He always was.” This was a little too sharp. Then less intensely,

  “But does he keep watch over them? They are getting old and need someone to care for them.”

  “Often, at least every second Sabbath – when Tavi’s activities allow.” Then with some diplomacy, “Of course your Abba and Emma send their love and are happy that you’re well - more importantly, safe.” Then in an effort to divert Adlai’s yearning for home news, he continued,

  “So, nephew to your news. From your dispatches, I know that our business is faring well. I cannot fault how you’ve conducted day to day dealings”

  “I can’t thank you enough Uncle. Really, I know I’ve said this before but bringing me here and giving me responsibility has changed my life. I can’t thank you enough.” As his right hand gently stroked his chin, Idra addressed Adlai,

  “Adlai, I’ve come to look upon you as a second son. It pleases me to see you grow into a fine and matured young man. Remember, you’ve done this yourself and so I must commend you. Now to your news.”

  “Well, as I’ve mentioned, more and more traders are using the Indus River as an alternative to the overland ‘silk’ road. But what is curious and worrying is that many goods are simply sent down the coast to Barigaza, which is fast becoming a staging port for shipment to Egypt and the Eastern Roman empire. It seems to work thus, goods coming down the Indus are sent by coastal ship to Barigaza, which also receives goods from the southern areas of Hindustan 45. Then they are shipped to Egypt and ports beyond. I can see no advantage to us in sending our merchandise to Barigaza. No advantage at all.”

  “Hmm,” Idra said thoughtfully. “Have you discussed this with Kirit? He should know more than you or I.”

  “Yes, I have. There is a general feeling that the ruler, Hajatria is very weak and the political situation unclear. He assumed power only five summers ago but has a very weak hold on government. Therefore, traders are looking outside his kingdom for more permanent arrangements. Hajatria rules from his capital Taxila situated many miles away near the source of the great Indus. The local governor in Minnagara virtually rules without hindrance from Taxila.”

  “And what do we know of this governor?”

  “His name is Gajbaahu which means ‘one who has strength of an elephant’. I think he deludes himself. Kirit is trying to get an audience for me so I can raise questions about long term trade.”

  “Hmm. Yes, it’s wise to find out the politics of the region. Politics affects what and how we trade. I take it no date has been set for the meeting?”

  ‘Not unless Kirit has received any news today. You might want to discuss the whole situation with him tonight.”

  “And I shall. Now tell me what have you been doing to amuse yourself in your spare time?”

  All of a sudden, the quiet was disturbed by a flock of multi-coloured Alexandrian parrots taking to flight. With their olive green crests and red neckbands, they made for a vivid distraction. This diversion allowed Adlai time to consider his response. Even though Idra was family, Adlai really didn’t want to talk of personal matters.

  “I've been studying the local religions which, as you know, are predominately Hindu and Buddhism. There are many differences – too many to discuss. But generally, it seems that Hinduism appeals only to the peoples of Hindustan whereas Buddhism has meaning and attraction for all peoples wherever they reside. They . . .”

  “Yes, I believe you’re right,” Idra interrupted. “Hinduism is much like our own religion, which is only for the Jewish people and the lands of Israel and Judea. Unfortunately, non-Jews are actually given the name of ‘Goya’ meaning outsiders.”

  “That’s right. Yes, yes a good observation. I find Hinduism very complicated and confusing. It’s more than just a religion. It’s a way of life, a culture that has several elements making up the practice of Hinduism, including language. So it’s not possible to be a practicing Hindu in the true sense in say, Palestine. It’s a way of looking at life peculiar to Hindustan and cannot be exported. . . .”

  There followed a silence for several minutes as each thought upon what had been said. Idra broke the silence with, “Have you discussed these religious observations with Kirit? I’m sure you have asked questions.”

  “A little,” said Adlai hesitantly. “No – not really. I didn't’t know if I should approach him. He’s very sensitive.”

  Expecting Idra to reply, Adlai waited in silence and then Idra came out with,

  “There is tension between you and Kirit over Somya. Isn’t there?”

  Adlai was taken off guard. He had thought to raise the subject when the timing was right. He wasn’t prepared for Idra’s blunt approach and became apprehensive.

  “What do you mean?” he stammered. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Don’t evade the question, boy. If you are having an affair with Somya, then you have done wrong. Perhaps not in a physical sense . . .”

  Then he stopped and said urgently. “Adlai please tell me you haven’t had any physical contact with the girl? Adlai . . .?”

  “NO I HAVEN’T. Anyway, it’s nobody’s business but Somya’s and mine. ... I love her Uncle. It makes me angry that people would think me dishonorable. Her father treats me like a bad smell, and will not allow any contact between us. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I want her! . . . And she wants me.”

  Well at least I’m right and there is tension between Adlai and Kirit. He’s only a young man and trying to control his natural urges. But it would be a disaster – a disaster for everyone for the affair to go further. How can I explain . . .

  “You have to understand Adlai; we’re guests in Kirit’s homeland. As such, we must obey and respect their customs and traditions - even if we find them unpleasant. Even if we find them very unpleasant. Like at home Kirit - as Somya’s father - will eventually find her a suitable husband when she’s ready. He could hardly choose you – would he?”

  “Why not!” Adlai challenged. “Am I unworthy? Do I smell? Am I poor? Why does silly custom and tradition have to come between two people who genuinely love each other? Why!”

  Exasperated, Idra replied with a sigh,

  “That’s a question I can’t really answer. I understand your pain. It’s the pain felt by all young people growing into an adult world. Who makes these guidelines and why is something I can’t speak to. All I know is that these conventions are there and as long as they are supported by the majority of people, we have no choice but to respect them.”

  And then as a further thought Idra said,

  “You mentioned that Somya felt deeply about you. . .” As Adlai went to interrupt, Idra silenced him with,

  “Hear me out boy! Hear me - please. She’s but a girl of fifteen summers. She has no knowledge of the adult world. I dare say she still has girlish fantasies of noble princes and tender interludes. Stories of passionate relationships with oh so happy endings. Think Adlai. Think. Is she capable of withstanding the anger of her parents and hostility of her relatives in perusing this relationship with you? Is she? Think boy! Right now your emotions, though noble, are not behaving as they should.”

  Inwardly Idra sighed,

  That’s blunt - but somehow I have to get through to him that maturity demands that we must control our feelings. There is much pain in this grown up world, and how we respond to our emotions, is a test of our maturity. I remember the pain of my own emergence
into adulthood.

  Now Adlai was feeling uncomfortable for he recognized his uncle’s good counsel but at the same time, his emotions rejected rational thought.

  And what am I supposed to do about this deliciously painful swelling in my groin every time I’m near Somya. What! Tell me uncle if you dare! Sometimes I feel I’m going to burst! I’m in pain!

  Nobody spoke for there was really no answer to the age-old dilemma of the young. Only events would prevail to resolve the issue.

  Damn, Dammit, thought Idra. This could get ugly.

  “Come let us prepare ourselves for Kirit’s hospitality.”

  And the object of all this emotional pain was studying her reflection as she prepared to meet her father’s guests. She was indeed beautiful. Her face was shaped like a heart and dominated by round eyes that seemed to change colour from brown to almost black, depending on the light. It was a very feminine face with wide inviting lips and perfect teeth.

  She wore no makeup except that her eyes were highlighted with Kajol, which was also used to place a black dot on her forehead. This signified her unmarried status and as well, warded off evil.

  I think I’ll wear my Salwar Khameez of gold pantaloons and red tunic. This is a special occasion. Hmmm, my eyes don’t look right – perhaps a heavier line of Kajol. What if I didn’t wear the black dot! It would scandalize my mother and earn a rebuke from my father. No – I don’t want to cause any more friction. Heavens, they’re both getting cranky with me. Don’t they realize I’ve past fifteen summers and am no longer a child?

  Baa – parents. What do they know? How can they know the delicious sensation I get when he just touches me. He makes me feel like a woman – not a child. I know I’m mature and can handle myself. My silly mother keeps fretting around me. She’s just a hypocrite.

  Adlai, Adlai – my love. How I long for you to just hold me, and kiss me.

  Nooo – I think I’ll wear the pale blue scarf instead of the green. Green won’t compliment my makeup and would make me look like a tart. (Sigh) But wouldn’t it be nice to . . . .

  Love had come gradually to Somya. At first, she was entranced by his habit of smiling out of the right side of his mouth. He has beautiful teeth. This had fascinated her for a little while until she became aware of his eyes.

  They were intensely brown, almost black, with the ability to peer into her very soul. Each time she felt his eyes upon her she experienced a little shiver. Then to compliment all his facial features, his lightly bearded chin completed the image of confident masculinity.

  She felt safe and relaxed with him. She began to look forward eagerly to their meetings. But then something happened that completely confused her.

  She began to experience a warm glow in her loins that quickly escalated to physical discomfort. Just the sight of him made her wet down below. She began to want more than just his company. She wanted him. Physically. Badly. Now.

  Getting up from her preparations, she felt the familiar but embarrassing wetness in her loins.

  In contrast, Adlai became aware of her womanly curves, firm breasts with large round nipples and adorable heart shaped face, all at once. He was instantly sexually aroused almost from the time they first met. And it just got worse. His body betrayed him every time they were together and with that betrayal came mounting frustration. He needed release. Badly. Now.

  So Adlai walked to Kirit’s villa with foreboding not knowing that Somya was experiencing the same pressures.

  Whilst most humans endure endless cycles of despondency, happiness, despair, and pleasure, some people seem to be able to sail through these cycles with an endlessly cheerful countenance.

  Such a person was Jalbala. Meeting Idra and Adlai in the atrium of her home, she welcomed her guests with endearing gusto. As if they were close friends and closer family. She had that marvelous infectious quality, to immediately relax people so that they could converse as family.

  She was a smallish woman and definitely a product of her marvelous cooking. With her hair pinned back in matronly fashion, she did not subscribe to heavy makeup like most married females. A red dot to signify her married status, a little henna for her eyes, and she opted to wear a simple sari of light blue that softened her overall appearance.

  Throwing her arms around Idra as a long time friend, she cried,

  “Idra, Idra, my own very good friend, how good it’s to see you. You have lost weight. Aha, your good wife is naughty; she’s not feeding you enough. But you’re here now and Jalbala will see that you regain that portly status proper for a man of your eminence.”

  “Dear Jalbala,” laughed Idra. “What a pleasure it’s to see you again. I always delight in your welcome. I’m constantly telling my wife about our friendship and the quality of your fabulous cooking.”

  “Naughty man,” admonished Jalbala. “Your lady wife will think only ill of me. But come, come. Come and sit. Let us gossip. I’m sure you have much to tell me of your travels and, of course, your lovely family.” Then, perhaps a little brittle,

  “Adlai, it’s nice to see you again.”

  Then into the room walked a vision of pure beauty. Idra was taken aback at the change in Somya in the last three years. Stunning. The young girl he’d last seen had blossomed into a beautiful woman. With her heart shaped face and wide enticing lips she immediately captured the male heart. And the body she displayed, even in her Salwar Khameez, was that of a mature and very sexy woman. A very luscious mature woman. Idra could not help but to gasp, stare and admire.

  And, of course, the subject of this adoration was only too aware of the impact she had on the masculine libido.

  In contrast, Fulmala, Kirit’s younger daughter, was just a happy, if a little overweight child, of eight summers. Affecting no shyness, she bounded into the room and hugged everyone with gusto.

  And then the feast began. Idra was overwhelmed by the colors, aroma, and eventually the taste of Jalbala’s cooking. And the variety of food - from lamb and vegetable curries, poultry cooked in the tandoor and saffron rice flavored with almonds and dried fruit. The best Falernian wine was served from stock imported out of Italy. A staggering array of side dishes added to the main food platters.

  The meal was conducted by the family sitting around the feast mat and using their hands to eat the food. Here Jalbala was in her element. She described each course’s ingredients and spices at the same time keeping a lively conversation with Idra.

  As the honored guest, Idra was served first, then Adlai and Kirit. The females were served last. After the initial ritual serving each person was free to help themselves to more as their appetites allowed.

  Adlai ate little and did not join in the conversational banter. Somya seemed very subdued. Because he was a guest, Adlai was accorded ritual respect but Idra could sense that his relations with the family were somewhat tense.

  Idra, after leaving a small portion on his plate, leaned back and with a satisfying belch signified his approval. Jalbala beamed with pride. In an effort to ease any tension, Idra chose to turn the conversation in another direction,

  “One of my fellow passengers was a Hindu holy man returning from Egypt. He attempted to instruct me in the Hindu faith, but I must confess to confusion. Much confusion. We Jews only have one god and one book of learning, whereas you Hindus seem to have a god for every region and activity. Is this a valid understanding?”

  At this Kirit laughed,

  “My dear friend, I too am sometimes confusion at our holy teachings. I suggest another bottle of this excellent wine will help your understanding. Somya please?”

  When Somya departed to fetch more wine, he continued,

  “But to try and answer your question let me begin by saying that Hinduism is sometimes wrongly described as a polytheistic faith with millions of gods. However, we do believe that God lives in all living things. There is god in each and every one of us.”

  Seeing Idra blank look he pondered before continuing, “Hinduism is also monotheistic because we reco
gnize one supreme deity or unifying force, called Brahma. However, most Hindus are not concerned with labels. As the sacred text the ‘Rig Veda’ says, ‘The truth is one, but different sages call it by different names.’

  At this Adlai joined in with,

  “So you do believe in one god – like our belief perhaps, but with the name changed?”

  Kirit turned towards Adlai and hesitated as he considered his response. With a sigh he was about to continue, except Somya arrived with more wine. The conversation lapsed as the wine goblets were filled. Then he answered slowly,

  “Many Hindus consider the deities Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu a trinity, or one god with three aspects. Brahma is the creator of the universe. He constantly creates new realities. Vishnu is the preserver who protects the realities Brahma creates. Whenever dharma, which roughly means righteousness or duty, is in danger, Vishnu descends from the heavens in a human form, or avatar. Shiva, the destroyer, is always present until the end of time. He destroys old realities, making room for the new ones.”

  Like the stupid young fool he was, Adlai, ignoring Idra’s warning look, challenged this,

  “How can one god be three? Surely, you have three separate gods – not one if I understand you correctly?” “Adlai”, interrupted Idra. “Many people have different gods. Look at our people before Moses. We believed in a variety of gods before Moses went up Mount Sinai. In Aegypt, there are many gods but always there is the prime god Ra who rules over the rest. I consider Brahma to be the most supreme Hindu god. Would I be correct brother?”

  “But . . .” As Adlai sought to continue the discussion with the impetuosity of youth, Idra broke in . . .

  “Enough. Kirit has made it abundantly clearer than the Holy man aboard ship has. I thank you brother – you have been most patient but I suspect the ladies are somewhat bored.”

  “Oh yes, yes,” agreed Jalbala. “Religion is a very testing subject and probably is best left to lazy priests who have more time on their hands to ponder such matters. Now tell me Idra, what are the ladies wearing in Palestine and Egypt?”

  And on that note, the discussion descended into mundane and less contentious issues.

  But without being obvious, Idra kept a close watch on Somya, who was keeping a close watch on Adlai.

  This matter is becoming dangerous and must be resolved before someone gets hurt.

  As Adlai and Idra were expressing their thanks and saying goodbye, Idra drew Kirit aside and said,

  “Dear friend, I’m aware of the matter that’s troubling you. You have my assurance that it will be resolved to the satisfaction of all. Shall we meet tomorrow early morn to discuss this and other matters?”

  “Yes. It’s good that we meet as soon as possible. I have matters in hand that I must discus with you - urgently.”

  But no one noticed the silent exchange between Adlai and Somya. A question asked - and answered.