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Jazeera- Legend of the Fort Island

Page 2

by Yash Pawaskar


  4 – Palace

  When the guest had freshened up, Jazeera’s servants served him the local fish curry and escorted him to Sultan’s palace. The Head Guard asked the guest to handover the half-broken, specially minted coin for verification. He took it to the Wazir, and he placed it with his half. It matched.

  The guards let the guest enter the Wazir’s quarters on the second floor and waited outside. Ubaid Khan, or the Wazir as he was referred to, was staring at the scenery outside from the intricately designed window. It was a beautiful site—glittering yellow lights on the ground dispersed throughout the island, flickering torches on the fort walls, and gleaming stars beyond the island’s boundaries reflecting in the sea and shining in the dark sky.

  It was late at night, and he was still in his black layered pathani, which he considered as his uniform.

  ‘That was quite a welcome,’ said the guest, as he walked towards the window.

  The Wazir turned. ‘You look shipwrecked,’ he said, turning his gaze to the fort walls.

  ‘Shipwrecked is better than dead,’ replied the bulky guest, as he stood next to the middle-aged host.

  ‘I heard about your fight against the Junglees. You managed to not just survive their attack, but also kill a bunch of those perpetrators. Commendable!’ complimented the Wazir.

  ‘It has been a long day, Wazir sahib, and frankly, I do not need to hear compliments from you. I know my strength. What I want to know is why I have been summoned here,’ said the guest in an irritated tone.

  The Wazir moved away from the window and took a seat. He poured the island’s finest toddy in a regal glass and offered it to his guest. The guest sat down on the chair opposite the Wazir and took a sip from the glass.

  The Wazir said, ‘Only physical strength won’t help in achieving the task you have been called for; it will also need brains.’

  ‘Well, you clearly have the mental strength. Your idea of using a decoy worked well. Otherwise, this ship would have sunk. Are you insecure about your physical strength?’ smirked the guest, taking another sip of the toddy.

  ‘Everyone is insecure. What matters is the reason you are insecure. And I am certainly not insecure about physical might. I have an army of two thousand African slaves at my disposal and...’

  ‘I didn't mean to offend you,’ said the guest.

  ‘I do not get offended that easily,’ Wazir replied.

  ‘Good for you,’ he said, finishing his drink.

  ‘It is getting late. I’ll come straight to the point. Children are disappearing in Jazeera,’ said the Wazir.

  ‘What do you mean disappearing?’ interrupted the guest.

  ‘Probably kidnapped. Earlier, we thought these were one-off cases, but children do not vanish regularly without a reason—’

  ‘And you want me to find the reason?’ the guest finished the Wazir’s sentence. The Wazir nodded.

  ‘So, there you go. You know why you are here. We can discuss more about this tomorrow. The guards will escort you to your room now,’ said the Wazir and the guest stepped out. After seeing the guest off, the Wazir went and stood near the window in a meditative state.

  5 – Guest House

  The guest house was adjacent to the palace, near the inviting garden. Jazeera was famous for its indulgences, and the hot stone bath was one of them. The guest was lying naked in a six-foot wooden tub with hot stones in it. The stones, laced with minerals, had a relaxing effect. The guest laid comfortably while a solitary lamp flickered in the corner of his bathroom, which along with the steam from the tub gave the wooden interior an orangish misty glow.

  ‘May I come in,’ asked a melodious voice from the main room.

  The guest opened his heavy eyes and asked sternly, ‘Who is it?’

  The voice giggled, ‘Your gift.’

  The guest flashed a mischievous smile and said, ‘Come in.’

  Tiny bells around her slender waist jingled, as the woman stepped inside the guest’s bathroom. She halted near the thin curtain separating the bath.

  ‘Didn’t you hear? I said come in,’ said the guest stressing on the last word.

  The woman pushed the curtain aside and stopped near the guest’s feet. Her face was covered with a veil and a pashmina shawl shielded her body till the knees, exposing only her milky white calves.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ asked the guest running his wet hands over his face and his head to push back his long hair. She extended her right thigh from the shawl. The alluring mole above her knee invited the guest through her translucent white gown.

  She said, ‘The gift doesn’t unwrap itself.’

  He instantly sprung up from the tub and stood beside her within breathing distance. Hot water droplets dripped from all over his body. He raised his right hand and flicked away her veil revealing her foreign face.

  Her brown kohled eyes looked into his demanding ones. Her gaze wandered down to his chiselled torso. Her red lips curved into a smile, and he flung away the pashmina in one swift motion. The peekaboo-gown she was wearing aroused his senses even more.

  His phallus was now in full bloom, and he launched himself at her. She let out a moan in her soothing voice. Their shadows had become one against the orangish light of the lamp.

  Passion took over him. He placed his hands on her buttery neck and pulled her towards him by her shoulders. The damsel turned instinctively, placing her back to his chest. He grabbed her heaving breasts from behind her and tore apart her gown while thrusting his waist against her bottom.

  Her left hand caressed his wet hair while the right one meandered towards his groin. The guest placed his hands on her hips and turned her as if she was his dance partner. The woman swung and hugged the man.

  He bent her slightly to arch her back and kissed her breasts. He began licking the nipples, as her moans became louder. He bit her right nipple passionately, making it red around the black.

  She shrieked and ran her hands over his muscular back.

  He broke the embrace, lifted her by her buttocks, and rammed her against the wall. His firm hands held her lower body while he kissed her all over. She cupped his face and bit at his lower lip.

  The guest had had enough of the foreplay and readied for the end. He placed her back onto the damp floor and pounced on top of her. She grinned and threw her hands over her head giving him full access to her bosom.

  She shrieked momentarily as he entered her body. The shriek mellowed, and she closed her eyes; first thrust, second thrust, third thrust. The guest seemed to be completely immersed and so was she.

  She opened her eyes to look at him and saw a visual so scary that she turned cold.

  Blood oozed out from the guest’s neck from a cut made with precision. It spilled onto her bare breasts and the guest’s eyeballs enlarged. His limp body crashed on her right side.

  She couldn’t clearly understand what she saw. The room was already hazy, and to add to it, she saw a shadow behind the man she was sent to appease.

  Her eyes seemed unreliable and all she heard was a menacing, ‘Ssshhhhhh’. She closed her eyes in fear and when she opened them, the shadow was gone.

  6 – The Mahavan

  The sun had reached its peak, and the lush green Mahavan had started to warm up.

  ‘We’ve been sitting on this stupid tree for hours now, Avni. Can’t we just return?’ said Goraksh displeased with their leopard hunt.

  He, being the heavier one, sat near a fig tree’s trunk, while the agile Avni moved about from one branch to another at frequent intervals. Her tribal necklace dangled as she moved about. Goraksh wore a loose grey kurta, and Avni wore a close-fitted kanchuka, a short blouse. Both wore knee-length white antariyas, a piece of lower garment tied like trousers.

  Avni ignored her friend, Goraksh’s request for the umpteenth time. She had now found a decent position and unlike Goraksh, had kept her bow and arrow ready. Her black, beady eyes were fixed on the lake on the bank of which was the fig tree.

  Her eyes move
d from one end of the lake to the other in search of her prey. The kohled eyelashes accentuated the beauty of her eyes. A gentle breeze playfully untangled her neatly braided hair, and two unruly lustrous hair strands caressed her high cheekbones.

  ‘I thought hunting would be exciting. What kind of hunters are we? Just sitting and sitting and sitting…’ Goraksh said, adjusting his quiver.

  ‘We are smart hunters, Gogo,’ said Avni.

  ‘How many times have I told you to stop calling me Gogo? My mother named me Goraksh. Please refer to your highness by his assigned name,’ said Goraksh acting haughty.

  Avni looked back at Goraksh and replied, ‘And how many times have I told you to stop whining? If you whine one more time, I will push you and then Your Highness shall become Your Lowness.’

  ‘That was a terrible joke. I think you left your sense of humour in the cave,’ said Goraksh fanning his right ear.

  ‘I have survived twenty-five years because of my sense of humour. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to bear you and your tantrums.’

  Goraksh did not reply to Avni’s quip, as he was busy shooing away a bee.

  Avni spotted some movement near the lake; it was the leopard. It was hurt. The black spots on its body had a layer of red on them. ‘As Guru Ashwath says, “Patience is a virtue prime; those who wait shall be rewarded by the gods of time”. Our leopard has arrived.’

  ‘What! Where, show me, show me…,’ exclaimed Goraksh.

  ‘There,’ Avni pointed north-east.

  Goraksh’s eyes widened as he saw the leopard move swiftly towards the shimmering blue lake. Avni readied the bow and arrow and pulled the string. She adjusted her breath and was finding the right moment to set the arrow flying.

  The leopard reached the lake and stopped to quench her thirst. As Avni released the arrow, the bee stung Goraksh. He lost his balance and fell off the branch onto the ground. His quiver fell away from his reach.

  The noise alerted the agile leopard, and she ran. Avni’s arrow missed its mark. She leaped down from the tree swiftly to check on Goraksh. He had injured his knee but seemed to be alright. She walked towards the lake to check the leopard’s whereabouts, but it had vanished.

  Avni came back to check on Goraksh who was still lying on the ground. She bent forward and extended her right hand to lift her friend up. Goraksh caught her hand but instead of getting up, pulled her onto the ground. And in doing so, he saved Avni from the leaping leopard. Both managed to stand up, and they stared into the leopard’s ravenous eyes, who was now just ten feet away.

  Avni and Goraksh stood side-by-side and tried to guess the wild cat’s next move. Goraksh and the leopard’s eyes were locked; the beast had hypnotized and paralyzed the young lad. The injured beast was growling and moving around.

  Avni shifted her gaze to the leopard’s feet. She was trying to anticipate the beast’s attack from its footwork. Stealthily, she took out a dagger that was tucked into the small of her back and held it facing downward in her dominant right hand.

  The leopard made an instinctive and calculated move of going for the heavier person and leapt. Avni was quick to notice it. She turned 180 degrees and kicked Goraksh’s right ankle with her right foot, forcing him to fall flat on his stomach. This time, Avni saved her friend from the leopard.

  While the leopard was still mid-air, on top of Goraksh’s head, Avni tilted her upper body slightly to her right, and jabbed the dagger into the leopard’s stomach, cutting the animal wide open.

  Blood splattered on Gorakh’s back.

  They had achieved the task assigned to them by Guru Ashwath.

  7 – Adivasi Hut

  Guru Ashwath was seated on a red carpet inside one of the Adivasi straw huts in their settlement within the jungle. The ageing Guru had tied his white hair in a bun. His eyes were closed, and his body was still, but his ears were alert. He heard footsteps and opened his greenish eyes.

  The Adivasi Chief, Shambhu entered the hut bringing Avni and Goraksh with him. The Chief held his hands together in gratitude in front of the Guru, while Avni and Goraksh did it in reverence and greeting.

  He said, ‘Thank you, Guruji, for your help. No matter what we Adivasis do, we won’t be able to thank you enough for getting rid of the man-eating leopard.’

  ‘There’s no need to thank me; thank these youngsters instead,’ said Guru Ashvath in his calm voice pointing at Avni and Goraksh.

  The curly-haired youngster’s lips curved into a smile while Avni said, ‘We were merely following Guruji’s orders.’

  Guruji said, ‘Besides, soon there shall be a time where we will need your help.’

  The Chief said, ‘We shall be glad to help in any way possible, Guruji.’ He paused and said, ‘How rude of me to not offer you anything to eat. Please, forgive me. I will quickly arrange for some food for our saviours,’ he said and exited the hut.

  ‘Did you pray for the leopard’s soul?’ asked the Guru.

  ‘Yes, Guruji,’ both answered in unison.

  ‘Did you bury the animal’s body?’ he asked, and promptly came the reply, ‘Yes, Guruji.’

  ‘Good,’ said the Guru and stopped, expecting some questions.

  Goraksh obliged, ‘Guruji, why weren’t the Adivasis able to kill the leopard?’

  The Guru stroked his free-flowing white beard and looked at Avni. She replied, ‘Because the leopard was smart enough to sense the Adivasis’ presence through its sense of smell.’

  Guruji added, ‘That and its natural instinct, to expect an attack from its adversary.’

  ‘But the leopard was injured. That means the Adivasis were successful to an extent,’ said Goraksh.

  ‘Yes. This has been a long-standing issue for them, and that is precisely why they needed your help. The leopard had been killing their tribe members, especially kids,’ explained Guruji. He went on to ask, ‘So, what did you learn?’

  ‘I, for one, learnt to keep my quiver strung properly and to be attentive of bees. And lastly, do not let fear take over,’ answered Goraksh.

  ‘I shouldn’t have lost my focus. My senses should have been more attuned to the surroundings. I should have heard the leopard creep up on us from behind,’ pondered Avni.

  ‘Mistakes teach us a lot, only if we are willing to learn from them. Ponder over what you did well and what you would do differently. That’s how you grow,’ advised Guruji.

  ‘Yes, Guruji,’ the pupils replied.

  ‘Here’s a question for you. Was it right to kill the leopard?’ Guruji asked.

  Goraksh replied immediately, ‘Certainly, the leopard was a man-eater after all. He had tormented the Adivasis.’

  ‘What if I tell you the leopard was avenging her family’s death. The Adivasis had killed the leopards while expanding their territory,’ Guruji presented them with more information. This perplexed Goraksh.

  Avni thought for a while and replied, ‘Then, it was the Adivasis’ fault.’

  ‘Are you implying that it was wrong to kill the leopard?’ asked Guru Ashwath.

  Anvi thought aloud, ‘If the leopard wasn’t killed, she would’ve killed more Adivasis. I guess, killing the leopard was the right thing to do, as per the current scenario.’

  ‘How can your mind be stable if your belief system keeps changing based on scenarios? Yes, the wise must act as per scenarios but not abandon their core beliefs in the process,’ stated Guruji. He continued, ‘And the beliefs must be pure.’

  Goraksh looked puzzled. He asked, ‘So, was killing the leopard right or wrong?’

  ‘There is no right or wrong in this world. It is our beliefs that decide what is wrong and right.’ He paused and said, ‘The Adivasis think that killing the leopard was the right thing to do. The leopard, obviously, might think the Adivasis were wrong. Conflict arises because of imbalance. And this imbalance can only be corrected when you are in harmony with yourself and your surroundings.

  ‘It was the need of the hour to kill the leopard because it had lost its balance. It
was on a killing spree, and we had to stop further damage. The leopard couldn’t be reasoned with but the Adivasis could. Before agreeing to kill the leopard, I got an assurance from the Adivasis that they will not expand further. And if they feel the need to, they shall migrate to a different, unexploited land. They will not exploit these surroundings beyond what they have already done.

  ‘If the ambitious locals had lived in harmony with nature years ago, they could have co-existed with the leopards. Of course, there would have been skirmishes but not a massacre. Things would have been balanced.

  ‘Where there is mankind, there is exploitation of nature. While we cannot go back in time and wash the stains caused by our sins, we can certainly learn from our past mistakes, anticipate future challenges, and act with immense urgency in the present for a balanced life.’

  ‘Yes, Guruji!’ both exclaimed.

  The Chief along with other Adivasis entered the hut with fresh fruits and fragrant rice. Goraksh, Avni, and the Guru prayed to Bhoodevi for their food and began eating.

  8 – Market

  It was a busy morning in Jazeera. The sun was beating down on the island city, but it was business as usual in the noisy marketplace. There were several food stalls in the market—one after every five or six shops—and the aroma often punctuated the hurrying footsteps of visitors to the island, who were mostly traders, laborers, and artisans who halted at the island for a stopover before heading to foreign lands.

  A visitor wearing a saffron dhoti was navigating his way through a narrow lane with shops on both sides. He carried a sling bag over his brown kurta, which was drenched with sweat. A simple white turban covered his head. He went past the flurry of shops twisting the ends of his moustache and entered a crowded open space. People were thronging around a stage that was located at the intersection of the five market streets and the main roadway that led to the island’s South Gate.

 

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