by Collen Houck
I asked him, “What do you think Mr. Kadam expects we will find here? More answers? How do we get her blessing?”
I paced back and forth in front of the statue while examining the walls, poking my fingers gingerly into crevices. I was looking for something…special. After a half hour of that, my hands were smudged, cobwebby, and coated with terracotta dust. What was worse was that I’d gotten nowhere. I wiped my hands on my jeans and plopped down onto the stone steps.
“I give up. I just don’t know what we should be looking for.”
Ren came over and rested his head on my knee.
I stroked his soft back. “What are we going to do next? Should we keep looking or head back to the Jeep?”
I glanced at the supporting column next to me. It showed a carving of people worshipping Durga. On this one, there were two women and one man who were offering food. I thought they must be farmers because there were different types of fields and orchards dominating the rest of the post. Herds of domestic animals and farming tools were also carved into the scene. The man carried a bunch of grain slung over his shoulder. One of the women carried a basket of fruit, and the other woman had something small in her hand.
I got up to take a closer look. “Hey, Ren, what do you think that is in her hand?”
I jumped when his warm hand took mine and squeezed it lightly.
I scolded, “You really should warn me before you change, you know.”
He laughed and traced the carving with his finger. “I’m not sure. It looks kind of like a bell.”
I traced the carving with my finger and muttered, “What if we made an offering to Durga like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if we offered something. Like fruit. And then rang a bell?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Anything’s worth a try.”
We headed back to the Jeep and told Mr. Kadam our idea. He seemed enthusiastic about making an attempt.
“Excellent idea, Miss Kelsey! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
He dug through our lunch and pulled out an apple and a banana.
“As for a bell, I did not think to bring one with me, but I believe that in many of these old temples a bell was installed. The disciples rang them when guests arrived, when worshipping, and to call others to a meal. Why not search the shrine for such a bell. Perhaps you will find one, and we will not have to drive back into town to get one.”
I took the apple and the banana. “I sure hope this works and we get her blessing because I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. I hope you’re not expecting too much. Don’t get your hopes up because you’re bound to be disappointed.”
He reassured me that he could never be disappointed in me and shooed us on our way. When Ren and I headed back into the shrine, he began searching the altar area while I started digging through the rubble in
the other room.
After about fifteen minutes, I heard, “Kelsey, over here!”
I quickly joined him.
“It’s here, Kelsey.”
He showed me a thin wall at the edge of the room that couldn’t be seen from the doorway of the temple.
Shallow stone shelves had been carved out like tiny alcoves. On the top shelf, far above my reach but still
within Ren’s, sat a tiny rusty bronze bell covered in cobwebs and dust. It had a little ring at the top so it could hang from a hook.
Ren took it off the shelf and used his shirt to clean it, wiping off the grime and powdery rust. He shook it,
and it emitted an airy tinkling sound. He grinned and offered his hand, walking with me back to the statue
of Durga.
“I think you should be the one to make the offering, Kells.” He brushed his hair away from his eyes.
“Youare the favored one of Durga, after all.”
I grimaced. “Perhaps, but you forget that I’m a foreigner, andyou are a prince of India. Surely, you know what you’re doing more than I do.”
He shrugged. “I was never a Durga worshipper. I don’t really know the process. It’s not something the royalty did. We had priests who did all that stuff. We just got out of the way and let them take care of it.”
Curious, I asked, “So what do, or did, you worship? Were there any of these gods that you believed in?”
“I did what the people did. My parents encouraged me to be open minded. My mother’s family had different beliefs than my father’s, and they both respected each other’s thoughts and spiritual ideas.
They
wanted Kishan and me to discover what we believed for ourselves.”
“And?”
“And…I guess neither of us got around to it. We were both very busy, and religion was something that seemed more of a public spectacle or a holiday than anything internal or spiritual. I participated in the outward rites and rituals, but I never committed myself to, or felt strongly about, any particular religion.”
“Hmm…interesting, we’ll have to talk more about this later. I have a lot of questions for you about that.
Well, anyguesses then on how we should proceed?”
He confided, “Not really. What about you? Doesn’t your spiritual background tell you what to do in this kind of situation?”
“I can honestly say that I’ve never found myself in this type of situation before, spiritual or otherwise.”
I
sat down on a stone step, and Ren took a seat next to me. “My parents raised me as a Christian and took me to church every week growing up, but after they died, I lost my enthusiasm for church. It reminded me too much of them and of what I’d lost. I was mad at God for a while too. I was looking for something, or someone, to blame. I started relying on myself instead of on God or others.”
He squeezed my hand and proposed, “Perhaps we both need to find a path to faith. Ido believe there’s something more than just us, a good power in the universe that guides all things.”
“How do you stay so optimistic when you’ve been stuck as a tiger for centuries?”
He swiped a spot of dust from my nose with the tip of his finger. “My current level of optimism is a relatively new acquisition. Come on.” He smiled, kissed my forehead, and pulled me to my feet.
We approached the statue, and Ren began dusting off the tiger. Cleaning the statue seemed like a good place to start. I unfolded the napkin Mr. Kadam had wrapped the fruit in and started to wipe years of dust off the statute. After we cleaned off all the dust and cobwebs from Durga and her tiger, including all
eight of her arms, we dusted around the base and up the frame. At the base of the statue, Ren found a slightly hollowed-out rock that looked like a bowl. We decided that this may have been where people left their offerings.
I set the apple and banana in the bowl and stood directly in front of the statue. Ren stood next to me and held my hand.
I stammered, “I’m nervous. I don’t know what to say.”
“Okay, I’ll start and then you add what feels natural.”
He rang the small bell three times. Its tinkling sound echoed, bouncing around the cavernous temple.
In a loud, clear voice, he said, “Durga, we come to ask your blessing on our quest. Our faith is weak and simple. Our task is complex and mystifying. Please help us find understanding and strength.”
He looked at me.
I swallowed, tried to wet my dry lips, and added, “Please help these two princes of India. Restore to them what was taken. Helpme be strong enough and wise enough to do what’s necessary. They both deserve a chance to have a life.”
I gripped Ren’s hand firmly, and we waited.
“Is something going to happen?”
“I don’t know, Kells. Let’s wait another minute.”
Another minute passed, and another. Still nothing happened. Ren hugged me briefly and whispered that he had to change back into a tiger again. I kissed his cheek, and he began to change. The minute he was a tiger again, the room began to
vibrate, and the walls began to shake. A boom-like thunder sounded in the temple followed by several bursts of white light. Lightning!
An earthquake!We’d both be buried alive! Rocks and stones began falling from overhead, and one of the great pillars cracked. I fell to the ground. Ren leapt over me and stood over my body, protecting me from falling debris.
The quake gradually stopped, and the rumbling ceased. Ren moved away from me, and I staggered up slowly. I looked at the statue in astonishment. A section of the stone wall had broken and slid to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces.
Underneath that fallen rock was a hollowed-out imprint of a hand. I walked closer, and Ren growled softly. I traced the handprint with my finger and looked down at Ren. Mustering my courage, I lifted my hand and placed it in the print. I felt the stone grow hot like in the Cave of Kanheri. My skin glowed as if
someone held a flashlight under my hand. Fascinated, I stared at the blue veins under my skin as it became transparent.
My henna hand drawing surfaced again and blazed bright red. Crackling sparks leapt from my tingling fingers. I heard Ren growling and looked down at him. He wasn’t growling. It wasn’t Ren. It was Durga’s tiger!
Its eyes gleamed yellow. The stone changed from hard rock to living flesh. Her tiger was the standard orange and black. It bared its teeth as it growled at Ren. Ren backed up a step and roared back with his fur bristling around his neck. Suddenly, the tiger stopped, sat down, and turned its face up to…itsowner .
I took my hand out of the print and began backing away. Slowly, I stepped backward until I ended up standing behind Ren. Chills shot down my spine, and I started quaking with fear. The rigid statue began breathing, and the pale oyster-colored stone melted away into flesh. It was her! Durga herself! She was beautiful. An Indian woman, but with skin of gold.
Dressed in a blue silk robe, she shifted, and I heard the silky whisper of material slide down a dainty limb. Jewels of every kind adorned each limb. They sparkled in the rays of the sun and glittering reflections in every color of the rainbow filled the temple and bounced from place to place as she moved.
I sucked in a breath and held it as she blinked open her eyes and her eight arms lowered. She folded two pairs across her chest and tilted her head as she regarded the two of us.
Ren moved closer to me and brushed his side against me. It reassured me, and I was very grateful for his
steady presence. I put my hand on his back and felt his tense muscles. He was ready to pounce, to attack if it became necessary.
The four of us considered each other silently for a time. She seemed to be particularly interested in my hand, which was currently stroking Ren’s back.
Finally, she spoke.
One of her golden limbs stretched out and gestured toward us, “Welcome to my temple, daughter.”
I wanted to ask her why I was her favored one and why she called me a daughter. I wasn’t even Indian.
Phet had said the same thing, and the concept still baffled me, but I felt it was better to keep quiet.
She pointed to the bowl at her feet and said, “Your offering has been accepted.”
I looked down at the bowl. The food shimmered and sparkled, then disappeared. She patted her tiger on the head for a while, seeming to forget we were there.
I chose to say nothing and let her take her time. She looked at me and smiled. Her voice echoed like the tinkling bell through the cavern. “I see you have your own tiger to aid you in times of battle.”
My voice sounded weak and frail compared to her rich, melodic tone. “Umm…yes. This is Dhiren, but he is more than just a tiger.”
She smiled at me, and I found myself entranced by her splendor.
“Yes. I know who he is and that you love him almost as much as I love my own Damon. Yes?”
She tugged on her tiger’s ear affectionately while I mutely nodded in agreement.
“You have come to seek my blessing, and my blessing I will give. Come closer to me and accept it.”
Still frightened, I shuffled slightly closer. Ren maneuvered his body between the goddess and me and kept his attention trained on the tiger.
She raised all eight arms and used them to beckon me closer still. I took a few more steps. Ren, between us, was now almost nose to nose with Damon. They both sniffed loudly while wrinkling their faces to show their dislike of the position.
The goddess smiled warmly at me and announced, “You are seeking the Golden Fruit of India in Hanuman’s Kingdom. My sign will show you the gateway. Hanuman’s realm has many dangers. You and
your tiger must stay together to make it safely through. If you separate, there is great danger for you.”
Her arms began moving, and I took a small step back. She attached a conch shell to her belt and then began rotating the weapons in her hands. Passing them from limb to limb, she inspected each one carefully. When she came to the one she wanted, she stopped. She looked at the weapon lovingly and ran a free hand down the side of it.
It was the gada. She held it out in front of her and indicated that I should take it. I reached out, wrapped my hand around the handle, and lifted it toward me. It looked to be made of gold, but, strangely, it wasn’t heavy. In fact, I could easily hold it in one hand.
I ran a hand over it. It was about the length of my arm. The handle was twisted and carved in a golden spiral. It ended in a knob that would prevent it from slipping out of my hands. The middle was a smooth, thin, gold bar. It was about two inches wide and led to the top portion. Attached to the hilt was a heavy sphere about the size of a softball; it was covered with tiny clear-crusted jewels that dotted the entire surface of the orb. I was stunned to realize that they were probably diamonds.
I thanked her as she smiled benevolently at me. She raised an arm and pointed at the pillar, then nodded,
encouraging me.
I pointed, “You want me to go to the pillar?”
She indicated the gada in my hand and then looked at the pillar again.
I sucked in a breath. “Oh. You want me to test it out?”
She nodded once and began petting her tiger’s head again.
I turned toward the pillar and lifted the gada like a baseball bat. “Okay, but just so you know, I’ve always been terrible at sports.” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and swung weakly. I expected it to hit the stone, bounce off, and jar my arms painfully.
I missed.
Or…so I thought.
It all happened in slow motion, at least from my perspective. A boom-like thunder shook the temple, but
it sounded far away. I’d definitely swung the gada because my arms were still wrapped around the handle, and I was now holding it on the other side of my body. I peeked at the pillar and was surprised to see a large chunk of it had been gouged out of the side. The chunk of pillar shot across the temple like a missile. The piece hit with a boom and then shattered, exploding into a million pieces. I watched as gritty dust rained down on the pile of rubble.
My mouth gaped open in amazement. I turned back to the goddess, who was smiling proudly at me.
“I guess I’ll have to be really careful with this thing.”
She nodded and explained, “You may use the gada when necessary to protect yourself, but I expect it will mostly be wielded by the warrior at your side.”
I nodded and carefully set the gada on the stone floor. When I looked up, her arms were passing weapons again. This time, she stopped on a golden snake that was curled around her arm. Its tongue darted in and out, and it hissed slightly.
She directed, “This, however, is for you.”
I watched with dread as the golden snake slowly unwound itself from her arm and traveled down the dais. It stopped there and raised its head, bringing half its body up off the floor. It flicked its tongue, sensing the air around it. The eyes looked like tiny emeralds. As it fanned out the sides of its neck into the
telltale hood, I trembled, realizing it was a cobra. The normal markings of the
cobra were still there, but instead of brown and black scales, the markings of the hood were beige, amber, and cream swirled on a golden background. The skin of the belly was buttermilk white and its tongue was ivory.
It left the dais and wound its way closer to me. Ren backed up a few steps as it slithered between his paws. I was terrified. My mouth was dry. My throat closed, and I felt as if a stiff wind could easily blow me over. I felt freeze-dried—desiccated—like those meals Mr. Kadam buys for me. I looked up at the goddess. She had a serene smile plastered on her face as she watched her pet draw nearer to me.
The snake approached my shoe, flicked its tongue again, and wound its head around my leg. It circled my calf and twisted its body around several times. I could feel its muscles clench my limb tightly as it undulated and slowly ascended. Around and around it went. My limbs were quaking, and I wavered like a flower in a hard rain. I heard myself whimper. Ren half-growled and half-whined, apparently not knowing what to do to help me. The snake reached the top of my thigh. My elbows were locked stiff, and my arms were quivering as I held them slightly out and away from my sides. The snake gripped my thigh with the lower half of its body and stretched its head toward my hand.
I watched in rapt alarm as it reached my wrist and quickly shot over. Curling under my arm, it continued
its slow progress and began climbing up that limb. I could feel its scales as it slid up my bare skin. The scales were odd. Instead of rough and scratchy as I imagined they would be, they felt cool, smooth, and polished, like onyx disks slipping over my skin. The snake was gripping me in a powerful vise. As it squeezed my arm and moved up, my blood flow stopped, and then began pounding again, as if I’d wrapped a faulty tourniquet around the limb.
When most of its body was bound around my upper arm, it stretched its head up to my shoulder and brushed against my neck. Its flicking tongue shot out and tasted the salty perspiration on my throat, causing my lower lip to quiver. Beads of sweat trickled down my face as I breathed heavily. I could feel its head pass my neck, brush against my chin, and then…there it was… open hooded and looking right in
