Ashes for the Elephant God

by Vijaya Schartz

  Suddenly, the lights went out signaling the curfew. I lit a candle on the stool serving as a nightstand. In the dorm, the voices hushed. A few girls still rummaged, while others already slept or sat in meditation.

  "Well, if you want to know," Kora whispered, "Uli promised me dinner at the Woodlands. Then we could take a walk by the ghat of the GodavariRiver, skinny dip in the holiest waters in the Deccan, sit on the sacred steps, stare at the full moon, and make love under the stars. Isn't that romantic?" Her eyes shone in the candlelight.

  "I don't know..." I pulled a T-shirt out of my pack. "Aren't you afraid of getting pregnant or catching some disease?"

  "I'm not dumb," Kora said smugly. "I take birth-control pills. I also have condoms, but I use them only when I think there's a risk. Most of the time, I don't. It spoils the mood."

  "You should be more careful." I felt sad, remembering Jean‑François' untimely death. "My brother died of AIDS. It's not a risk to be taken lightly. And what about Chad? He's crazy about you. I thought you liked him."

  "Who? Chad?" Kora grimaced. "No, I never really cared for him. I'm interested in someone else outside the ashram, a real man." She smiled dreamily then added, "Uli is just a distraction for the duration of the trip."

  "I really don't understand you, Kora." I sighed and shook my head. "You'll ruin your life if you don't act more responsibly."

  Kora's expression hardened like that of a stubborn child. "That's right, you don't understand me at all. Nobody does." She stood up from the bed.

  "I'm sorry..." I wanted to win her back. "We started on the wrong foot, you and I. But I happen to believe we might learn from each other."

  "I don't think so." Kora prepared to leave, then turned back and hissed, "Let's keep it simple. I don't like your righteous ass. How dare you judge when you don't know the first thing about me?"

  "Watch your language, and keep it low," Jade cut in, "Some people are trying to meditate in here."

  "Sorry you feel that way, Kora," I said softly. "I hope we can become friends, in time."

  "Bloody unlikely," Kora spat in a hateful whisper. "Go back to your tedious meditation and your cold bed. I want nothing to do with you." She ran for the door and disappeared into the night.

  Jade came behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "Be careful, Fabienne, if you befriend her, she'll use you, treat you like a slave, then ditch you when she doesn't need you anymore. I've seen her do it before."

  "Thanks for the warning, Jade, but I have to try. If there's no coincidence, we were thrown together for a reason, and I want to find out what it is."

  "Suit yourself." Jade yawned. "I'm bushed. And we have many temples to visit tomorrow. Good night, Fabienne."

  I blew out the candle, sat on the bed, then closed my eyes, repeating the mantra to calm the tumult of my mind before attempting to meditate.

  *****

  The next morning, neither Kora nor Uli had reappeared. After chanting the Guru Gita in the school bus for lack of a private temple, we followed Baba on foot to several of the two hundred temples gracing the holy grounds of Nasik. At Sundar Narayan temple, a priest anointed our foreheads with a tika of bright red, ocher and white. Dressed in white cotton, wearing the yellow scarf, Rhudraksha beads, and now a tika on my forehead, I looked and felt like I belonged.

  Having never seen Baba among other spiritual leaders before, I marveled at the high marks of respect he received wherever we went. Our guru shone as bright as the sun itself, and I basked in the light that surrounded him. It filled me with joy. All I ever wanted was all around me, the manifestation of Shakti, pure divine energy. I knew then that I followed the right path and looked forward to a peaceful life of undisturbed, joyful meditation, if I could ever get it right. My attempts, so far, had led to visions and out-of-body experiences, but I had yet to achieve true meditation, emptiness of the mind.

  The sun had risen high in the sky when we reached the cool shade of the Sita Gupta caves. I admired the craftsmanship of the monumental statues looking upon us from millennia, carved in the gray rock jutting from the earth.

  Kora reappeared before lunch, followed closely by her new paramour. The same white gauzy dress she had worn the day before looked rumpled and stained, her hair was in disarray and her makeup smeared. The dreamy quality of her smile and the dark circles under her eyes told much about a lusty night. I wondered where they had slept and whether they found privacy at all. Millions of pilgrims overcrowded Nasik, sleeping in every nook and cranny, on every step of the riverbank, or slumped against the walls of every temple and shrine.

  After a picnic lunch in the nearby banyan grove, Baba announced that we had the afternoon free. Immediately, Kora and Uli left the group, then Jade went to buy some souvenirs.

  Following a group of swamis, I directed my steps toward a temple from which emanated some chanting. Immediately seduced by the high vibration of the place, I found a square pillar in a deserted section of the vast structure and laid my meditation mat on the polished stone floor. Sitting in a yoga posture, I closed my eyes.

  *****

  A gentle tap on the shoulder brought me back to consciousness. I felt refreshed and happy, bubbling with energy, but unwilling to face the world quite yet. At the insistent touch, however, I reluctantly opened my eyes.

  To my great surprise, Baba stood there, looking at me, surrounded by a few swamis. The holy man waved, emitting a clear laugh of delight. Bowing respectfully, I realized with a start that for the very first time I had experienced the true state of no thought, no mind, pure nothingness, the bliss called Nirvana.

  Baba smiled like a happy child. "You are progressing fast. Your energy is getting stronger every day."

  "Thank you, Baba," I mumbled from my sitting position. The guru hardly ever gave compliments.

  "Do you want to do my work?" Baba asked abruptly.

  "Of course." I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Becoming a nun? Spreading his word? Running a yoga center in France? What?

  "I need a French translator for my last book," he explained seriously. "Can you do it?"

  My head swirled. I suddenly understood the meaning of my seemingly scattered studies. Glad for sitting, I replied with enthusiasm, "I'd love to."

  "Upon our return, see Chandra in the library. She'll give you a place to work."

  I bowed again to answer Baba's salutation. He smiled then walked away. My spirit soared at the great privilege. No more bathroom chores for me. Instead, I would do what I was born to do and never suspected: use my language skills to translate and write.

  Chapter Ten

  Kali the Black, the dark side of God

  Despite the lovemaking of the night before, Kora felt empty. Uli would return home next week, and although a good lover, he hadn't lived up to her expectations. Kora kept thinking about Mukunda. For the first time in her life, a man had rejected her. Not only that, but he’d enjoyed her body first, savored her savoir-faire, melted with her. After giving her hope, he coldly dropped her in the morning. No man did that to her. She’d find a way to get him back.

  Leaving Uli at the temporary dorms, Kora freshened up, changed into a red and black cotton dress and golden sandals then carried her rolled fleece into the dusty streets. Joining the pilgrims, she searched for a particular temple, the only one that held interest for her.

  Stepping confidently inside the penumbra of the small building, Kora stopped to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimness. The shrine of Kali was not as popular as the others. Only a few pilgrims with somber faces dared bow and pray to the cruel goddess, but Kora, didn’t fear the bloodthirsty deity. She had come to demand her due.

  The black statue occupied the central wall, bathed in a shaft of sunlight falling through a square hole in the ceiling. Surrounded by lifelike snakes, Kali stared back at Kora, rolling enormous eyes. At the ends of ten black arms, hands with red palms held the symbols and weapons of her might. Among them, a sacrificial knife, a sword, a severed human head... Kora thought of a spider, a bl
ack tarantula waiting for its prey. A hat of gold and red sequins surmounted the snarling face, and the red tongue hung out, well below the chin, like a trail of red blood. Kora shivered at the necklace of human skulls resting on the divinity's bare chest.

  Here was a goddess after Kora’s heart. The girl lit a handful of incense sticks, then set her fleece directly in front of the threatening statue and sat, staring intensely into Kali's fearsome eyes.

  "You must help me," Kora whispered as convincingly as she could, the words echoing softly through the now empty shrine. "I want Mukunda for myself, and revenge for his rejection. I want you to help me find my way and remove all obstacles in my path."

  As if responding, the statue rumbled deep, and a tremor shook the small temple. Kora reeled and felt transported.

  *****

  Korana officiated for the private ceremony. In a cave, deep below the palace floor, smoky sconces and oil lamps illuminated in moving shadows a dreadful statue of Kali The Black. Incense sizzled on the embers of a brazier, filling Korana’s lungs with dizzying smoke.

  Clad solely in solid gold chains and plates encrusted with rubies and onyx, Korana stopped, barefoot on the tiger pelt that warmed the marble floor. A cool draft teased her bare skin as her handsome half-brother gazed into her eyes. Nearby, in the shackles of the sacrificial altar, a frightened virgin struggled helplessly. About thirteen, the girl was gagged and naked.

  Korana drank the soma from a gold cup then bowed to the goddess. From a gold sheath, she pulled a bejeweled dagger and, extending both hands, offered the blade to Kali's blessing. Turning toward the handsome Brahmin priest, Kora then handed him the precious weapon.

  The young man, dark eyes ablaze with carnal lust, wore a red dhoti and the white cord of his caste on the left shoulder. When he took the knife from Korana's mehndi-painted hands, a jubilant smile curved his lips. "I value our secret passion more than life itself, Sister Princess," he said exultantly. "In exchange for your sexual favors, I vow to remain your faithful servant for the rest of my life, and bend the power of Kali to your wishes." He bowed deeply, holding the dagger flat against his bare chest.

  Smiling seductively, Korana touched his bare shoulder. "If you do that, my beloved Shankarananda, I swear to keep you happy, rich and powerful."

  The young Brahmin straightened. "To seal our secret pact, Kali requires blood," he declared solemnly. “Our blood…”

  Princess Korana held out one finger. With the sharp tip of the knife, the Brahmin pricked it. Korana flinched, then relaxed, letting the blood drop into a copper vessel. Repeating the process on himself, Shankarananda joined his blood to his sister’s, then gently took her hand and sensually licked the oozing fluid.

  Teasing her open lips with his own bloody finger, Shankarananda shoved it into Korana's wanton mouth. She held on to it, sucking diligently until the priest stopped smiling and pulled her close to kiss her exposed nipples.

  Muscles tensed on the young man’s chest. "Patience, my love," he said hoarsely. "We must satisfy Kali first."

  Turning to the sacrificial stone, he held the dagger high above his head and summoned, "Kali The Black, hear us, see us, and witness our joining. To quench your thirst, receive the life and blood of this maiden."

  Heart quickening in anticipation, Korana smiled.

  On the stone slab, the gagged virgin emitted a muted scream, twisting in her bonds in a desperate attempt to avoid the knife. The fatal blow fell, cracking bone, opening the chest. A tremor, a look of surprise… Then life stilled in the wide-open eyes. With bare hands, Shankarananda broadened the crimson wound then pulled at protruding ribs and yanked out the beating heart of the victim. He then laid it in the vessel with the drops of his and Korana's blood. A ruby spray spurted from the victim’s gaping chest. Collecting blood into a gold cup, the Brahmin poured some into the vessel then offered the cup to Korana, who drank greedily of the warm, coppery liquid.

  After setting the offering vessel on Kali's pedestal, Shankarananda, eyes ablaze with carnal passion, returned to Korana, drank from the gold cup, then laid his incestuous bride on the tiger pelt. "Now, my love,” he whispered, “let’s consummate our bond under the eyes of our protector."

  *****

  Kora left Kali’s temple, still engrossed in the vision of another time. If it were a past life, she’d sealed a pact with Kali by means of a virgin's blood. How she’d enjoyed the fiery passion of Shankarananda The Magnificent!

  Like an automaton, Kora crossed the busy street in a daze. She didn't feel the heat or smell the stench of human sweat, disease, or excrement…neither did she pay attention to the monkeys frolicking in the ashoka trees. She didn't see the multicolored throng, nor did she hear the din of motorized traffic. She didn't see the Vespa scooter, overloaded with baskets full of coconuts, speeding unsteadily in her direction. She only felt a jolt in her legs, flew off, fell hard, and blacked out.

  Chapter Eleven

  Naja, the Indian cobra

  Sometimes Kora could kill, so frustrated had she become with life in a wheelchair. As if both legs encased in a cast and bent at the knee weren't enough, she had to put up with the ever-present Fabienne. Why did the French nuisance insist on pushing the antiquated contraption? As an exercise toward sainthood? Kora stared angrily but paid scant attention to the lush gardens of the ashram still doused in pearly drops of dew. Even the thought of visiting Shankar didn't brighten her mood this morning.

  "I don't understand why YOU of all people volunteered for the bloody job," Kora lashed. Her hand fumbled through the thick cotton of her long turquoise dress, trying to get at an itch under the sweaty edge of the cast.

  "I don't remember anyone else offering to do it," Fabienne said behind her, matter-of-factly. "Do you?”

  The chair creaked on the red dirt of the path. Invisible birds enlivened the mango trees of the orchard. Nearby, clear voices and laughter colored the air. Dark children splashed each other while filling metal containers with water from a hose. Others carried a small bag of sand or a building stone on their head. In a single file, like little brown ants, they made their way to the construction site where masons were erecting a new cottage. The April sun shone warmly on freshly trimmed rosebushes. Soon, rumor had it, the heat would become intolerable.

  "I don't think I can take three more weeks of this," Kora complained, fanning herself with a green round fan, woven from a single palm frond. "I'm sweaty and itchy all over." Kora really meant to say that she hated not being in control. And, of course, she hated Fabienne and her smart mouth.

  "Don't complain, Your Highness. It could've been a lot worse. Could be monsoon season. Your skin would mildew and worms would eat it under the cast." Fabienne's cutesy French accent infuriated Kora.

  The "highness" business had started as a joke when Kora had mentioned dreams about being a princess in a previous life. Fabienne picked it up and the title had stuck. Now everyone addressed her that way. Kora hated them all.

  "You could've died in the accident, if the Vespa hadn't swerved," the French bitch went on relentlessly. "Lucky for you it was a clean break with no open wound. Think about the lack of hygiene in that hospital, and the myriad of deadly diseases you could have caught. Like the American girl who died of infection, two months ago, after a simple appendectomy."

  "I hate ashram life," Kora seethed. "I hate you and your bloody positive attitude. Do you have to torture me? Waking me up before dawn, telling me what to wear, chaperoning me to meditation and chant, which you know I can't stand... You're really getting on my nerves."

  "I also bring your meals, help you bathe and go to the bathroom, sprinkle baby powder inside your casts, take your clothes to the laundry shop, bring you daily treats, get you soda when you're thirsty, and tuck you in at night. I'm only helping you follow ashram routine, so you can continue your spiritual retreat unhindered."

  "Piss-off!" Kora could feel Fabienne's smug smile in her back. The little gadfly enjoyed every minute of this misery. Since they had returned from
Nasik three weeks ago, no matter how hard Kora tried to hurt Fabienne's feelings, the French girl bounced back with a smile and behaved even nicer than before. If it weren't for Shankar and the distant challenge of regaining Mukunda's favors, Kora would leave the ashram in a flash, even with two broken legs.

  As they neared the elephant's shed, Chad approached the two women, smiling shyly, a hayfork in hand. "Hi Kora!" He chimed in, moving to relieve Fabienne who walked away with a word of thanks. "Shankar'll be happy. Can you hear him fussing?"

  Chad pushed Kora's chair through the bend in the path. At the sight of her, the pachyderm lifted its huge trunk, trumpeted, and shuffled, rattling the chains looped around his back legs. In his unexpected excitement, a gigantic erection affected the huge animal. Kora felt herself responding, after three weeks of sexual deprivation. No wonder Shankar went crazy once in a while. How long had it been for him?

  The new corrugated shed stood among a cluster of low buildings shaded by a banyan tree. Erected on top of a concrete slab, it included heavy metal rings deeply sunk in concrete to secure Shankar's tethers. Fresh straw sparsely covered the floor. Despite the absolute cleanliness of shed and beast, the stench was overpowering.

  Although aware of their relative privacy since Fabienne's discreet departure, Kora waved Chad away. "Don't you have something to do?"

  Chad blushed and bent his head. "I didn't mean to bother you." He switched his weight from foot to foot like a child caught red-handed. "I miss you, that's all."

  "Nothing I can do about it right know," Kora flared, uncaring.

  "I know…but I still miss you." He stared at her, looking intensely hopeful.

  "I want to be alone with Shankar for a while, if you don't mind!" Kora had no use for Chad and no patience to spare.

  Chad's shoulders slumped and his eyes returned to the ground. "Okay. Well... Hope you get better soon. And don't get too close to him." He pointed at Shankar with the fork handle. "He's unpredictable." Chad turned and slowly walked away.