The Rupa Book of Love Stories & Favourite Fairy Tales (2 in 1)

by Ruskin Bond

  "Wouldst see a fire-sanctuary?" Bhadra nodded and they proceeded toward the outskirts of the town. Suddenly the Hindu pulled the sleeve of the other's coat.

  "What are these; what does this mean; why are these men chaffering?"

  "Oh, this is the square where dowerless maids are sold. No men will marry them. What luck to pass on a market day!"

  "Luck"! The stranger shuddered. He could not openly condemn a practice of his hosts but he need not stand and watch. "Let's go," he said.

  To Heliodoros so common a sight needed no remark and they wandered on through the flowering mustard fields, a lovely yellow scented carpet spread in all directions, till they reached the fire-temple. Taxila was a cosmopolitan city. Its faiths were cosmopolitan too. Buddhists, Jains, Brahmins and Fire worshippers dwelt together in amity. Dion was a Greek and faithful to his father's gods but to his son reared in an atmosphere of religious tolerance all gods were much alike.

  In the fire-temple's priest he had a friend who allowed him at the close of day to climb the steps leading to the summit where in an ecstasy of delight Heliodoros watched the planets in their courses. Bhadrasena also loved the stars; he had visited Ujjain where astronomy and astrology were the chief studies of the pundits and so to him this shrine with its white shining walls and brazen tablets telling of the deeds of Porus and of Alexander were interesting enough.

  As they turned homewards his heart gave a great leap. In the white dust of the roadside were some ascetics. How many had he seen in Vidisa! Naked, ash-coloured and motionless they sat. The cold biting winds sweeping across the plain in winter, the rays of summer sun so intense that bare feet scorched when they touched the stones were to them as nothing. Both youths made obeisance as they passed; such holiness all men held in reverence.

  That evening when the sky was rose-red Bhadra said "Goodbye" to his attendants. Only one remained with the prince who felt that he could never be happy in this dour land. To his eyes accustomed to the giant trees of Central India those around Taxila were stunted. Nowhere could he see the mango-twig so pink, so green unfolding; nowhere did the palas tree suddenly cover its black, snake-like branches with rich red blossoms, nowhere did the mischievous, chattering monkey charm the lonely hours. Alas! how true it was that only by painful discipline was wisdom attained.

  Spring, lovely dainty spring passed rapidly but before the hot summer winds blew over the fields the young man and boy were friends. Heliodoros had entered manhood for he was twenty-two years old, but he still had much of the young spirit of Greece in his composition, whereas the mind of Bhadrasena was older than his fifteen years. The two found delight in each other's company. The scanty rains broke in July and brought some relief from the pitiless heat. To slip out of the dark house at dawn, to run across the fields to where the deep river flowed, then to strip and plunge under the cool water was sheer delight. One day, however, the Hindu woke shivering and when his friend called him he could not rise. Dion's family was devoted to the sick boy. Their own physician, the senior professor of the medical college, attended him and when the fever broke Dion's wife carried him to her own house and nursed him back to health. It was now that the souls of gay Heliodoros and of quiet Bhadra became as one. The latter was playing one morning with some crested bulbuls when his friend, greatly excited, entered the room.

  "Guess, where I am going," he called.

  "To Greece."

  "No, try again."

  "I can't, my head is all muzzy."

  "Well, to your father's court."

  "What! am I returning. Do you go with me?"

  "No, my lad. I, yes I, go as ambassador," and he made a ludicrously solemn salute.

  Tears filled the younger's eyes. What bliss to go to Vidisa! Why was it denied to him? But he conquered his bitter disappointment and replied "That's good. My father, King Bhagabhadra will be honoured to have such a great ambassador at his court. But when and why?"

  "When? As soon as my things are ready. Why? I carry instructions in a letter for his majesty."

  "Lucky you! Well, I must get some presents and write a letter for you to take to my home."

  A few weeks later another group of horsemen had gathered at the western gate; this time to speed the departing traveller. Dion wished to ride with his son as far as the narrow pass through which the road to Hindustan ran. There they halted, the father sad at heart as he looked on the weird, dun-coloured ravine country. A bad beginning for a journey into an unknown land, it seemed to him. Would the lad return safely? Alas! only the gods knew, for on their laps lay the future.

  Heliodoros set out with his few soldier companions, faring on, day and night through forests, over deserts, across swamps and rivers. One evening, the muddy, swollen waters of the Lutudri (Sutlej) forced them to halt on its banks. A winter storm had broken the day before and it was impossible to ford the river. Whilst preparations were being made for the night's camp the young leader wandered alone. The way was obscure and he almost stumbled over a huddled object which he saw, as it slowly and with many grunts unfolded itself, to be an old, old man.

  'Art hurt father?" he enquired.

  "Nay, my son," was the mumbled reply as the old man painfully stood up. At last he was erect but sank to the ground again, exclaiming "Yavana! Yavana!" Heliodoros helped him to rise once more, saying "Why Yavana, father? Come, rest and tell me thy story," and he led the way to the camp. The flickering fire-light showed that the way-farer had passed the usual limits of man's life. Toothless, bleared and feeble he was as one left behind by time. The men made him comfortable on a pile of saddle-bags and gave him a strong, hot drink. As the warmth crept through his withered limbs he seemed rejuvenated and looking at the Greek said clearly "Yes, Yavanas came and the horse was grey."

  "What horse? Where was it? Tell us."

  "I forget. I was only up to my father's knee when I saw it. We were on the banks of a great stream. Maybe it was this. Maybe Maybe not. I remember I had caught a fish when out of the forest beyond, came a great horse, grey like a rain-cloud. A mighty army came after. Loud drums beat and I was feared so that we hid behind a bush. But I forget," and the shaking head drooped.

  "Some more wine," whispered the eager listener.

  So the strong wine was given and the thin, piping voice went on. "My father said it was the king's horse and no one must stop it. Then another army came, tall men, riding like gods, and one who rode near where we lay looked like thee. My father said he was a Yavana. The two armies fought. Oh, such blood and noise! I hid my face and when I looked up the horse was wandering away."

  Heliodoros gazed at the speaker. He must have seen the sacred horse as it ranged from field to field followed by an army which, if unconquered after a year, gave to the one who had sent it forth the right to call himself Lord-Paramount. The pundit at Taxila had told of the fight young Vasumitra, great Pushyamitra's grandson, had with a wandering band of Yavanas when he was guarding the horse. The aged one, when a stripling, must have seen that battle. What luck!

  Early next morning they crossed the flooded river by means of a raft floated on inflated bullock-skins. And now they hastened. It was a kind, generous land through which they rode. In the silver mist of dawn, quails, red and grey, ran across their paths and hares broke constantly from the cactus hedges. In the thin light of the 'wolf's brush' jackals were seen slinking home and the rising sun shone on the backs of antelopes.

  Haste as they might, yet progress was slow and it was more than three months since they left Taxila when they entered Ujjain. In green and gold, in rose-colour and snow-white, in dimples and greys, the city and its walls made a picture charming to the eye. As sang a poet of later days:

  "Oh, fine Ujjain, Gem to Avanti given; Where village ancients tell their tales of mirth.

  And old romance; oh, radiant bit of heaven!"

  Four days were spent in resting and enjoying the hospitality of the students in the college for the study of the stars. Heliodoros was enamoured with the wonderful stone instruments
for measuring the heights of the heavenly bodies. Soon, too soon, he thought they moved on across the beautiful Dasharna country towards Vidisa (Bhilsa).

  The sweet, sweet smell of forest earth filled their nostrils. The low bushes were aglow with buds and the trees were filled with green parrots. It was a journey of only one hundred and twenty odd miles and on the seventh day they were in sight of the city. That night they camped on the banks of a lovely reed-fringed jheel, full of crimson and blue lotuses and crowded with water-birds. The next morning, they entered the city and the ambassador sought audience of the king. He was led at once to Bhagabhadra, a prince of pleasant demeanour, courteous and frank yet with a truly royal dignity.

  "Victory oh King" and the Greek bowed low. "I bring greeting from mighty Antialcidas" and he proffered the letter. It ran thus,

  "The king of Taxila salutes the king of Vidisa. The reputation of the Maharaja has spread far and wide and the benefits of his rule has reached to distant regions. So great is his fame and so powerful his strength that I, Antialcidas, Keeper of the Northern Gates, desire to make treaty with him so that north and south may be bound together in friendship and peace with prosperity abound.

  Salutation.

  Antialcidas."

  The letter was read and given to the chief minister; then "What of my son?" asked the royal father. From his leather pouch Heliodoros drew the epistle entrusted to him by Bhadrasena in Taxila. The king's hand trembled as he untied the golden thread. The letter ended, "Of Dion and his family I have only loving words to speak. They have made the wilderness to blossom for me, have treated me as a son and I ask my gracious father to give to my friend, Heliodoros, the welcome his father gave to me."

  The king stepped down, embraced the young man and said "As thy father dealt with my son so will I with thee." Thus the Greek became a member of the king's household, mixing freely with its inmates. There were two children, Malavika, a slender maid of fourteen years and Kusha, a charming, eager child, who showed "his little buds of teeth in countless peals of laughter."

  Vidisa at this time was as beautiful as any great city of the world. The king's palace was built close to a lake and surrounded by lovely green parterres threaded with silver streams. Even in dreams Heliodoros had never seen such a wonderful structure as rose storey above storey, in rose-red and snowy-white balconies, gay with frescoes and floral ornament. Beneath these lay the palace-garden with its pomegranates, feathery palms and broad-flagged bananas.

  It was the time of the cold weather and each day was delightful. One of the tasks imposed by Antialcidas was the gathering of many fine elephants. So, long treks were made through sombre forests and over enchanting plains. To rise at dawn, to taste the pure air sighing across the maidan, to hear the cry of the sand-grouse before the bird was seen, to startle a storm of purple, green and gold as the peacocks rose from the kusa grass, made a life strongly alluring to the Greek, lover of beauty in all its forms.

  A year passed before the tale of elephants was complete. And now the ambassador had to select some rare and precious stones for Antialcidas. Bazaar rumours of Vidisa's jewels, of diamonds as big as a hen's egg, of pearls the size of grapes, of rubies in clusters like sultanas had spread to the north and tickled the king's ear. He would adorn his flat cap with an aigrette. So, from the south and from the diamond mines, merchants came with their stores of flashing gems for Heliodoros to inspect. After some weeks' examination he authorised three to proceed to Taxila.

  The second spring of his stay was near. One early morning he walked in a small garden. At its heart was a pool where forever broke a ripple. Around the pool some trees stood. The mango cast the faint sweet scent of its modest flower on the air; the simal opened its red, red bowls for the birds to sip, and the asoka, the sorrowless tree burgeoned into spear-shaped wavy leaves. But its bright blossoms of crimson, orange and saffron were still closed and to the young man's amusement a maiden, standing in front of its sweetly dancing lines, was timidly kicking the trunk with her sandalled pink-tinted foot.

  "Bravo, Malavika," he called as he approached. "The tree will surely blossom now the foot of such a beautiful woman has touched it."

  As swiftly she turned, her lemon-yellow sari slipped from the bee-black hair where nestled a small red rose. Under a graceful arch of brows great eyes misted over and a silver tear hung on dark lashes. Heliodoros was aghast. Never would he wound so tender a heart.

  "Come," he said. "Remember how you married the vine to the mango tree. See how prosperous that union has been; what a pretty pair they make! The asoka will open its Heart's Ease flowers soon. Shall we come every morning to see when that happens?"

  She smiled as she faltered "Every morning" and he saw that she was a lovely woman. The girl-child had suddenly bloomed into womanhood.

  And so, unknown to the king and queen they met. She saw that he was brave to look upon. To him she was the fairest woman God had made. In the East love grows quickly and soon each loved the other. As light faded, each evening Bhagabhadra's tenderly nurtured daughter braved the terrors of the dark and crept to the bamboo grove, there to secrete a fairy love-letter, cut by her dainty nail on a birch leaf for Heliodoros. Alas! a wanton breeze blew a letter from its hiding place and Kusha, playing near, found and took it to his mother, Savitri.

  Malavika was wife-old. Already suitors had spoken for her hand. The court astrologers at this very time were busy casting the horoscopes of various princes to see with whom the princess might be auspiciously united.

  With an anxious hurry the queen came to her husband and the mandate went forth—the lovers must be parted; the man banished from the palace and the maiden confined to the woman's quarters.

  "She will forget if thou, wise wife, speak to her. Entreat her not to shame her father's house by caring for a barbarian. Bid her prepare to marry one of our choice." So spake the monarch, skilled in man's affairs but knowing not the ways of a maid.

  Malavika protested not, but a palpable wistfulness settled over her, and the tear-swollen eye, the unanointed curl, the loose attire spoke in poignant language to the mother's heart. Savitri again sought her husband and with love and gentle sweetness pleaded for her daughter's happiness. "Let us consult pundit Kaushika. He is wise. He may perchance, solicit the gods and they will show a way out of this difficulty" she said.

  "Perchance." Bhagabhadra could not forget that it was one he had welcomed who had hurt his heart and pride. But he sent for the wise man.

  "Our daughter is sick. Only a shadow of her beauty remains. Give us of thy wisdom, oh father."

  "Victory oh King! What says the queen? I know not the maiden's heart."

  "Thou art indeed wise, punditji. Her mother says she loves the Greek stranger."

  "I will talk with the young man."

  Heliodoros was eager to explain to this trusted friend of the court how love came unsought; how his birth was noble, could he not trace his descent back to a prince who had come with Alexander? how his father had great wealth; but the question came swift, "What of thy god?"

  In truth he could not name one god. All were alike, he thought but he was willing to learn and Kaushika advised his majesty to allow the marriage if the Greek would accept Vishnu as his god. On such terms the lover was more than willing to take Malavika for virtue, love and wealth.

  Joyfully the mother whispered the sweet message of her father's consent to her child. "It is good" said the sick girl. "A maiden cannot choose again once her troth is given. Her lips must confess what her heart holds dear."

  Brightly dawned the bridal day. A crowd of gaily clad, quickly moving people thronged the city. Festive trumpets sounded and rich festoons and graceful garlands hung from balcony and wall.

  Quickly the months passed in marital bliss and the joy of man and wife was perfected by the birth of a son. Happy tears dimmed Malavika's eyes as she caressed the boy with her 'blossom-hand.' Her beauty grew till she seemed a flower unfolding in mysterious bliss.

  Her husband was anxious t
o return to Taxila. His stay had lasted for a much longer time than was at first intended. He wished to make account of his ambassadorship of King Antialcidas. One hundred elephants were ready to go northwards. He, his wife and child would precede them and travel in comfort if they left just after the rains.

  One morning his wife woke him. The babe was crying and would not be stilled. Tiny hands were clenched, little eyes glazed. The mother was frantic. Desperately she sought to ease her darling's pain. Over the fevered body the nurse cracked her thumbs. Savitri came in haste bringing the charm which cured Kusha years ago. All was of no avail.

  Malavika turned to her husband. "He is dying" she cried. "The gods are angry because thou dost only give lip-worship. Haste to the temple and ask what thou must do. Go, go" and she pushed him from the chamber.

  "Every prayer, which is uttered, finds its way to the ears of the Great Presence," muttered the unhappy father as he strode swiftly to the temple. A dark-faced twice-born with dreamy emaciated face and ardent sunk eyes cast off his shoes, bared his right shoulder and covered his hands while he began in the three mystical manners to recite the sacred text. The magical words fell on the ear of Heliodoros; only to hear these chanted formulas was salvation. He felt his son would live.

  Quickly he retraced his steps. "He sleeps" whispered Malavika. "Krishna has blessed us."

  The father's heart filled with gratitude and he said "I will erect a pillar so that all men shall know how great is Krishna, incarnation of Vishnu, who has given us back our joy."

  But his wife replied, "Heart of my heart, it is good to honour the gods but put not the child's name lest evil again befall him."

  "Nay!" said the Brahman, Kaushika, who entered as they spoke together. "Nay, put words that will help all who pass this way. Put on the pillar these words: 'Three immortal precepts lead to heaven—self-restraint, charity, conscientiousness."' And so even to this day are these precepts preserved on the column standing amid the scanty vestiges of the once famed Vidisa.