Yayati resisted the urge to punch his fist into the trunk of the tree to which his horses were tethered. ‘Brahmin authority! I do not care about brahminical authority! You cannot alter the facts to suit your purpose whenever it pleases you!’
Devayani replied in a honeyed tone: ‘Do you not hunt with whatever weapons and advantage you possess? A hunter must fell his prey in any way possible.’
‘I am not a prey to be downed by you.’
‘Certainly not. You are a man of great worth and stature. You are a prize husband. And I am the daughter of a great brahmin. It is a match made in heaven.’
‘Then go to heaven and find someone suitable! I am not available to marry you.’
‘Why not? Give me one reason at least.’
‘I gave you—’ He stopped, realizing that she had effectively negated the varna argument. Brahmins indeed had the authority to declare a kshatriya also a brahmin, especially a raj-kshatriya. He sought about desperately for some way out of his insane trap. Then it occurred to him: If there was one thing a brahmin would not tolerate, it was an insult against their varna. Brahmins were impossibly egotistical. Thus far, Devayani was perfectly in control and had the upper hand. But if he reduced her to anger and tears, compelling her to say something stupid, he could safely ride away with a clear conscience.
‘It is said by the learned,’ he announced in a voice loud enough to be heard by her maids, all of whom were discreetly or openly listening, ‘that a brahmin is always to be avoided.’
Devayani frowned. ‘Which learned man says such a thing? All learned men are brahmins, and no brahmin would ever speak against his own varna!’
Yayati smiled to himself. That change of attitude showed him he was on the right path. ‘Nevertheless, it has been said by the learned that one must always avoid a brahmin. As you are a brahmin’s daughter, I cannot marry you.’
Devayani laughed and waved away the objection deprecatingly. ‘Utter nonsense. As a brahmin’s daughter, I am all the more desirable. Especially since I am the daughter of not just any brahmin, but of Shukracharya himself, preceptor to the entire asura race, one of the most highly respected and venerated brahmins in the world.’
Yayati shook his head. ‘In fact, that makes you least desirable of all.’
Devayani lost her smile and stared at him. ‘What do you mean by that? Do you seek to insult my father?’ Her voice rose a shrill notch on the last word, and he knew he had found her weak spot.
She cannot bear to hear her father insulted. Behind Devayani, he glimpsed the other maid, the very attractive and desirable one that she called Sharmishtha, nodding vigorously to him, then making hand gestures to encourage him to go on. So I am right, this is the way to drive her to anger and tell me to go drown myself. If I insult her father sufficiently, she will never want to marry me. He grinned, nodding once to show the beautiful maid that he understood and appreciated her help.
At the same time, he knew, he could not simply spout insults and abuse any brahmin, leave alone one of Shukra’s stature. It would be unacceptable for a king of his reputation to do so. He had to tread a fine line between offending Devayani and forcing her to lose her self-control, while not inflicting calumny upon the great Maharishi.
‘I only repeat what the learned have already proclaimed loudly to one and all,’ he said smoothly, lapsing into the familiar diplomatic mode he had been trained to use in matters of inter-state negotiations, a fine line between upholding one’s own dignity and making sly potshots at the transgressions of others while never openly provoking or accusing. ‘Brahmins are always to be avoided, the more famous a brahmin, the more widely one is expected to avoid him. It is true of all famous brahmins. But if it applies to you, then by all means take the lesson to heart.’
‘That is utter nonsense,’ Devayani said sharply. ‘You will stop this at once. No more insults against brahmins and no further mention of my father! We have reached an agreement and you must honour it. Marry me.’
Yayati marvelled at how easily she gave orders even though there was no actual contract between them as yet and wondered how much more forcefully she would order him about if they were actually married. ‘We have no agreement, maiden. As I am saying to you, since you are the daughter of a brahmin, I cannot possibly marry you under any circumstances. This is not my opinion or decision, it is merely the teachings of the wise. As a king, I must obey to their superior knowledge.’
Devayani looked as if she wished to slap him to bring him to his senses. He had no doubt that she was quite capable of doing so. But she restrained herself with a visible effort. ‘Stop saying such things. My being a brahmin’s daughter can only be an asset. Every young man of marriageable would give anything to marry the daughter of Shukracharya!’
Yayati glanced around, gesturing casually. ‘Oddly, I see no young men of marriageable age here.’ He winked at the maids. ‘Although there seems to be no shortage of young marriageable women around.’ He grinned at Devayani. ‘Perhaps the competition is too great? Too many beautiful young nubiles to choose from?’ He looked pointedly over her shoulder at Sharmishtha, who returned his look with a coy invitation of her own. Devayani saw the direction of his gaze and turned sharply. At the sight of Sharmishtha, her eyes narrowed to slits that threatened to expel thunderbolts of fire.
She turned back to Yayati. ‘Enough! There is no reason to avoid the daughter of a brahmin! You are merely speaking ill-thought statements.’
Yayati shook his head. ‘On the contrary, I can explain the whole argument. The wise have clearly explained why a brahmin is to be avoided at all costs.’
Devayani folded her hands on her chest tightly, glaring at him.
Yayati went on. ‘A brahmin is to be avoided even more than a raging fire that spreads in all directions, or a venomous snake that strikes anyone who approaches near. This is the full warning issued by the learned and I merely repeat it as I was taught.’
Devayani started to speak, then held her tongue, choosing to fume instead. Then she changed her mind and sputtered: ‘If the learned say so, they must have good reason. Explain!’
Yayati smiled and continued, speaking as much for the benefit of Sharmishtha and the other maids, knowing that by doing so he enfuriated Devayani all the more. ‘The reason for this is a good one. It is thus. A snake, even if it lunges, can only spend its venom on a single victim. A fire can rage and burn down a forest but cannot cross water or spread to the cities unchecked. Whereas a brahmin when angered can issue a curse that kills any number, that can destroy entire cities, even entire worlds. The more famous and powerful a brahmin, the greater his anger, the greater his ability to curse and cause ruin. Therefore the learned have advised that one should always steer clear of a brahmin, and stay even farther away from a famous or powerful brahmin. Such as your father.’
He smiled. ‘Now do you see why I cannot possibly marry you, lovely maiden Devayani? I dare not risk incurring the wrath of a brahmin, a very powerful brahmin at that, perhaps the most powerful of all, as you yourself admitted. For if he were to grow wrathful at me, his brahman power could end my dynasty, ruin my kingdom, and wipe out my entire race! I dare not risk such an event. I dare not risk angering your father. Therefore I cannot marry you.’
The peals of laughter from around were suggestive of cheers of approval. Yayati was amused to see that even her own maids did not feel great loyalty towards their mistress. He thought that being enslaved against their will might have something to do with it. Sharmishtha was smiling triumphantly, looking most pleased of all. At the sight of her, his breath caught in his throat, and he thought to himself: I must have that woman. I must!
Devayani was staring at him with an inscrutable expression on her face. He could not read the expression, or even tell whether it suggested rage, frustration, or humiliation. In any case, he did not expect her to have any rejoinder this time. He was quite pleased with himself. He had set the woman in her place once and for all. He finished untethering his horses and mounted t
he first one.
He heard the second horse whinny softly and turned. He was surprised to see Devayani sitting astride his spare horse, sitting as comfortably as any young princess who had ridden horses all her childhood. He assumed she had learned to ride while playing princess in the city of the asuras.
‘Very well,’ she said.
‘Could you dismount from my horse, please,’ he asked politely. ‘I wish to be on my way.’
‘Very well,’ she said, louder this time. The giggling and excited chatter died down around them as all the maids noticed their mistress astride the horse. ‘I accept your proposal of marriage. We shall proceed at once to my father so that you may ask him.’
‘Ask him what?’ Yayati said, his brow furrowing with irritation. ‘This matter has been settled, Devayani. I have already told you, it is quite impossible for me to marry you.’
‘Because I am the daughter of a powerful brahmin, isn’t that right?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he said doubtfully, wondering what new mischief she was upto.
‘And because you fear that he might curse you to ruin and you cannot risk that, being a king and therefore responsible to your people, am I correct?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Then it is settled. We shall go to my father, you shall ask him for my hand in marriage, and you shall lay down the condition that you marry me only on condition that no harm or ill ever befalls you or your future offspring or your city and kingdom and possessions and people…ask him to ensure spiritual protection for your sewer-cleaners and butchers as well, if you wish. He is a powerful brahmin. His word is immutable. You shall have protection for all that you hold dear. Since that is your only objection, it is best to eliminate it at once. There will be no further obstacle in the path of our marriage. Come now,’ she said, urging the spare horse forward, ‘let us ride to Vrishaparva and settle this matter. I wish to be married at the earliest.’
5
Yayati was cornered. He had done it to countless prey before and he knew exactly when a beast was left with no way to run, to place to hide, nothing but its own end staring it in the face. He had seen that look on countless animals before he despatched them with his arrow, sword, javelin or pike. Devayani had taken his own objection and turned it against him. Without actually saying so at any time, she had made him realize that what he said was in fact true: Guru Kavya Ushanas was a powerful brahmin. If Yayati now offended him by refusing his daughter’s hand in marriage without a suitable reason, the preceptor of the asuras could indeed curse him to ruin. At the very least, he could invoke the wrath of the asuras against Yayati and his allies. A war with the asuras would be as ruinous as a curse. By taking her hand – albeit to haul her out of the well in which she had been trapped – he had indeed offered her protection and as such, had initiated an offer of marriage. If unaccompanied by any romantic feeling or emotional attachment, perhaps that innocent act of grasping her hand could have been overlooked, but the fact was he had been infatuated with her, had returned time and again to the site of their first encounter, and had eventually met her, stayed with her, romanced her and been romanced. They had progressed far down the path of courtship and it would be impossible now to deny it to any third person. With a thousand witnesses, it would be equally impossible to disprove her claims. And by raising the spectre of brahminical curses he had given her the very weapon which she was now using to seal the contract. For he had suggested, however indirectly, that by offending her or her father – and what greater offense could a man of good breeding cause a young maiden than to propose marriage and later reject her? – then her father would be justified in issuing a curse against him and his people. He had said the very opposite, of course, but it served the same purpose: it had put the idea into her shrewd head. And now that the idea was planted, he would be risking the wrath of the preceptor of the asuras if he rode away from here.
Unable to think of any honourable way out of this situation, Yayati rode in silence to Vrishaparva city with Devayani. She rode surprisingly well for a brahmin, and it only served to remind him that she was not in fact simply a brahmin’s daughter. Also, he had observed that over the days he had spent with her, she had reduced her eating considerably, shedding some of those kilos of excess weight, and had begun to look like the same vision he had first seen in the well. The intensity of her arguments, while obnoxiously worded and imperiously delivered, were passionate enough to suggest a woman possessed of great will and life-force. However much he might not want her to be his wife, the fact remained that she could become a formidable queen. As king, one of his responsibilities was to choose a suitable queen, one who was as competent at governance as in spousecraft. There was no doubt that Devayani qualified eminently. And she looks like she would be a tigress in the arts of love, he mused. Perhaps marrying her was not such a bad thing after all. In any case, as king, he was free to spread his seed as he pleased. To take more than one queen if he desired. To maintain a palace full of concubines if he wished. So marrying Devayani was not necessarily the end of his freedom. In fact, this might turn out to be of advantage in time. By marrying the daughter of the preceptor of asuras, he would always be able to count on the support of the asuras, which would strike fear into the hearts of his mortal rivals and challengers. And if the devas objected or crossed paths with him, he need not fear being labelled disloyal since his marriage did not necessarily constitute a military alliance with their enemies. He could play it different ways in different circumstances, using the political and military advantages as he pleased.
By the time they reached Vrishaparva and were shown to Guru Shukracharya’s chambers, he had convinced himself that marriage to Devayani was a desirable thing after all.
So when Devayani introduced him to her father as the man who had taken hold of her hand and saved her life, then announced that she wished to marry him, Yayati offered no objection. For one thing, Devayani told the truth, even when it reflected her in an unflattering light. He saw that her father was accustomed to her imperious way of demanding things.
‘Son of Nahusha,’ the Maharishi said to him thoughtfully. ‘So you saved my daughter’s life and have now been chosen by her as a husband. Do you agree to this union?’ There was a look in his eyes that suggested he wanted to be certain that Yayati was not under coercion.
Yayati nodded. ‘Yes, great descendent of Bhrigu, I do.’
Shukracharya nodded thoughtfully. ‘You are a brave man.’
Yayati remembered the last part of his argument with Devayani. ‘Gurudev, as part of my marriage contract, I wish you to kindly ensure that no harm will ever befall me or my offpsring as a result of my marrying a brahmin’s daughter.’
Kavya Ushanas considered this thoughtfully. ‘A wise request. One that suggests great foresight and planning. You are a good king and will be a good father as well. Your wish is granted. No harm shall ever befall you or your offspring because of our relationship in marriage.’
Yayati bowed low, smiling happily. He had secured a major military, diplomatic and strategic advantage! This alone was worth marrying any woman. ‘I thank you, great one.’
‘But in return, I have a request of my own,’ the guru said quietly. Devayani was not with them at this time, having gone with her maids to make arrangements for the marriage. ‘Nay, consider it more a command from your father-in-law.’
Yayati looked up at the preceptor, head still bowed, palms still joined. ‘I am listening, gurudev.’
‘The maid named Sharmishtha,’ Shukra said. ‘She is an attractive girl, is she not?’
Yayati was completely taken aback. What did this mean? Why was his father-in-law-to-be speaking of some other girl, a mere maid at that? Unsure how to answer such an unusual question, he nodded.
‘You must vow never to bed her,’ said the guru. ‘Do you understand?’
Yayati gazed back at the guru. The brahmin had just promised that he would never let harm befall Yayati or his offspring. Even so, like all kshatriyas who kn
ew of the power that could be gained through sustained meditation and austeriities, he still feared the maharishi. He dared not even ask why the guru was making this request or what would happen if he refused – besides, how could he possibly refuse the request without seeming boorish and immoral? He could hardly say to his prospective father-in-law that he found the maid named Sharmishtha far more seductive and alluring physically than his own wife-to-be Devayani.
‘I understand,’ he said simply.
6
Yayati’s people welcomed their new Queen with great pomp and ceremony. The entire city was coloured with festivities. The celebration was lavish. Yayati instated Devayani in the traditional queen’s quarters but immediately commissioned a separate palace for her. Devayani was delighted at the thought of having her own independent residence. Situating the new queen’s palace in a beautiful grove of ashoka trees within easy travelling distance from the main palace annexe, Yayati had the structure raised in record time. He made sure that the new palace contained rooms for Devayani’s thousand maid servants as well. In addition, he honoured her chief maid and official companion Sharmishtha with an additional one thousand maids of her own. This was certainly not pleasing to Devayani but since Sharmishtha was under her command, it effectively put the additional thousand maids under Devayani’s command as well, so in a sense, it was she who was being gifted the additional thousand maids. Aloud she did not complain but her eyes shot daggers at Sharmishtha and she increased her demands on the latter, making her work from morning to night without respite.
For his part, Yayati contented himself with that lavish gesture, even if it was but a formality since Sharmishtha still remained a maid, and buried his lust for the beautiful underservant deep in his heart. The guru’s warning had shaken him to the core and he took it very seriously. He made no attempt to reveal his true feelings for Sharmishtha and at no time let himself lapse.
MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) Page 7
