AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) (26 page)

Subhadra arrived to inquire if Lakshmana had eaten anything. Aunt Subhadra was so beautiful, sighed the young girl. She wondered if there was any truth to the persistent rumour that her father and Subhadra had once been lovers. She could hardly blame him. Sometimes even she wished she was Subhadra’s daughter instead of her own stern mother’s. She knew she should quell such thoughts. Lakshmana missed her father, but even more than him she missed the one man who always treated her like the Princess she was.

Whenever she had been sad and unhappy, Ekalavya had always been there to console and cheer her. He would bow before her without caring who saw or heard him call her his Little Princess, to the point of making her blush. Their special friendship had started when she was three years old. The Nishada’s presence kept many wagging tongues busy but her father had never cared about anyone’s lineage, only their abilities. Lakshmana did not even know what lineage meant. Almost twelve years ago Ekalavya had given her his word that he would allow no harm to befall her, ever. She knew they were not playful words said to amuse a little girl, but a promise made with pride, honour and love.

The only thing they disagreed about was Lord Krishna. Like most girls her age, Lakshmana loved to hear the romantic stories the bards spun about the handsome Yadava’s childhood. Lord Krishna was an enigma. When Aunt Subhadra had introduced Lakshmana to her brother, the first thought that struck Lakshmana was how handsome he was. His smile lit up the whole world, yet she felt he was smiling just for her. He was kind and considerate and called her ‘daughter’ while blessing her. Despite herself, Suyodhana’s daughter felt she was falling in love with him, like so many hapless women before her. Aunt Subhadra later remarked that her brother had that effect on most women, irrespective of age.

Lakshmana’s meeting with Krishna’s elder brother had gone according to her expectations. Lord Balarama was just like her father had said – kind and affable. She had formed an awkward friendship with Valsala, Balarama’s daughter, who was the same age as her. They chatted about everything under the sun while Abhimanyu tried teaching Kumara archery. Later, the four of them would lie in the garden and stare up at the star-filled sky. Kumara would sing the poems he had composed and Lakshmana would float to a world of romance. Abhimanyu and Valsala often giggled when the Prince sang, and that made her boil with resentment against them both.

This evening was no different. The four of them were sitting on the lawn watching the arrangements for
Navaratri.
Abhimanyu and Valsala sat together and whispered, while Kumara sang. When he finished, there was unexpected applause from near them.
“Shabash,
son!” Krishna stood beaming at them. They had not seen him coming. Valsala and Abhimanyu broke into fits of laughter. Kumara hung his head as if Krishna had caught him doing something shameful. Krishna put an arm around Kumara’s shoulders and whispered something into his ear. Kumara’s face lit up with joy. Then Lord Krishna pulled out his flute from his waistband and began playing. Kumara closed his eyes in rapture; his beautiful baritone voice rose above the music of the flute in an arc of melody which soared and soared.

When he finished and opened his eyes, everyone in the Dwaraka palace was standing around them, clapping. Kumara looked embarrassed by the first appreciation he had ever received for his talent.

Lord Krishna went up to him and asked softly, “What is the matter, son?”

“I do not wish to be a warrior.”

There was a horrified murmuring from the crowd. Valsala giggled with her hand over her mouth. ‘How dare she mock my brother?’ thought Lakshmana in fury.

“Follow your heart, son. That is your
dharma.
Do not worry about what the world thinks. The world is transient, but you are eternal.” Without waiting for an answer, Krishna moved into the crowd and the dancing resumed. Lakshmana had never seen her brother so happy before. Before long, Abhimanyu dragged Kumara into the party frenzy.

Later, she overheard Lord Balarama talking to his wife, Rohini, about how he hoped their Valsala would marry Kumara. When Rohini commented that the young Prince showed no Kshatriya qualities, Balarama replied sharply that the world had enough idiots running around killing each other, without Kumara adding to their number. Though Lakshmana could not help but smile when she heard it, she did not like the idea one bit. Something was obviously going on between her cousin Abhimanyu and Lord Balarama’s daughter. She looked at her dreamy-eyed brother sitting near the jasmine bush, his gaze never leaving Valsala. He was hopelessly in love with a girl who scorned him and loved another. Lakshmana thought she would have to keep an eye on Kumara.

But something else was making her uneasy as well. It was as if someone was continually watching her, ravishing her with lustful eyes. She felt naked and vulnerable. She could sense an evil presence near her. Even when Abhimanyu dragged her into the crowd to dance, she could not rid herself of the feeling. For an instant she thought of telling her cousin, but was afraid he would make a joke out of it. What was there to fear among this gay and laughing crowd?

Unexpectedly, a hand reached out between the press of people and pulling down the front of her blouse, groped her breast. Lakshmana was shocked, humiliated and embarrassed. She briefly saw a leering face before the man vanished into the crowd. Lakshmana wanted to scream. How dared he? Even her lips felt frozen. She sat down, the crowd pressing around her, afraid even to cry. The music stopped. Many people had seen the incident and others were now looking at her, asking what had happened. Meaningless questions. She had done nothing wrong. Some bastard had touched her. She sat in terrified silence. ‘How will I face everyone? Mother warned me about such situations, about my dress, my walk, my talk,’ thought Lakshmana regretfully. She had rebelled, calling her mother old-fashioned. Who would possibly dare touch the daughter of Crown Prince Suyodhana? Her mother’s words came back to her with alarming clarity now, that it did not matter whether she was a princess or a beggar, dark or fair, eight or eighty, she was a woman, and men would always be men. It was her duty to be careful. ‘I failed you, mother. I am so sorry. I should have been more careful. I feel so ashamed now of my dress, my hair, my face...’ Lakshmana pulled at the bodice of her dress, afraid people would gossip about her character.

Aunt Subhadra’s hand lifted her chin. Lakshmana wanted to get up and run to some place where nobody knew her, but Subhadra pulled her close. Lakshmana buried her head in Subhadra’s bosom and cried. She could hear Lord Balarama shouting orders and people running. She also heard whispers about the inappropriateness of her clothes. Lakshmana closed her ears. Leaning on Subhadra’s shoulder, she dragged herself to her room. As she was about to enter, something made her turn back. What she saw would remain with her to her dying day. Lord Krishna was staring at someone, his eyes aflame with murderous rage. Lakshmana’s heart stopped. The man who had disgraced her was none other than Lord Krishna’s son, Samba. Krishna gazed at his son with disgust and then turned away. Fleetingly, his eyes met hers. They pleaded with her. The great man was begging her not to expose his son.

Lakshmana allowed herself to be pulled into her room. She had lost all interest in being in Dwaraka. Subhadra sat with her for some time, comforting her, but the gaiety outside beckoned. The dancing had resumed. The insult to a woman’s modesty was an insignificant hiccup on a festive night. Finally Subhadra left, asking Lakshmana to bolt the door and try to sleep.

Lakshmana sat on the bed watching her shadow dance on the wall as the lamp flickered. The tears dried on her cheeks and she did not know when she slipped into a disturbed sleep. Unknown to her, a pair of eyes were watching her through a crack in the door.

*****

27
   
L
USTFUL
E
YES

WHEN LAKSHMANA ARRIVED IN HASTINAPURA,
the city was bubbling with excitement. Kumara’s marriage was a great occasion and the city streets were festooned with colourful buntings. People had come from all over the country and they broke into spontaneous singing and dancing. She still felt guilty about what had happened at Dwaraka. She would have liked to have told her mother but was unsure how she would take it. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to chaperone her everywhere. Her father seemed to be constantly busy, always with great-uncle Shakuni at his heels. But where was Ekalavya?

That evening, the bridal party arrived from Dwaraka. Krishna and his favourite wife, Rukmini, were the first to alight, followed by Balarama and Rohini. Suyodhana bent to touch Balarama’s feet in reverence, as did all the Kauravas. Suyodhana and Krishna bowed politely to each other, followed by a brief, stiff hug. Shakuni, who was standing behind, also bowed to Krishna, who returned the courtesy with a smile – a challenge offered and accepted.

Bhanumati was trying to judge Valsala. No girl in the world would ever be good enough for her son. Abhimanyu tried to joke but his usual vivacity was missing. His long fingers briefly touched Valsala’s hand. Lakshmana saw the look that passed between them and almost stopped breathing. Why had Valsala agreed to this match if she was so much in love with Abhimanyu, she wondered fiercely. She had to speak to someone. Her mother was busy with the reception of Krishna’s many wives. Lakshmana had to warn her brother.

Suddenly she felt warm breath on the back of her neck. Who could be playing pranks? She turned back in irritation and all the stifled dread of the last few weeks came rushing back. She crossed her hands over her breasts and hurried off to find her mother. Bhanumati immediately began introducing her daughter to Krishna’s many wives, all of whom smiled and said how majestic the palace was, how beautiful the gardens, how pretty the whole scene! Caught in an endless round of chatter, Lakshmana kept mumbling greetings, trying desperately to keep her smile in place. But the fear of Samba’s presence close by was hard to ignore. Surely she had nothing to worry about? No one would dare touch her here, she kept telling herself. Then she saw him leaning against a pillar, ravishing her with his eyes. Samba winked and gestured obscenely. Even in her father’s palace, Lakshmana felt suddenly vulnerable. She was no longer safe.

*****

28
   
M
ISSION
D
ANGEROUS

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU LOVE EACH OTHER?
Why on earth did you agree to marry Kumara then?” Krishna asked his niece.

“Father was so happy about it,” Valsala said, choking down sobs.

This was getting difficult. While Krishna had never been keen on the marriage, his brother could be obstinate. Besides, Lakshmana Kumara was rather likeable, not at all arrogant like his father. With training, he could be made to understand the nuances of
dharma.
But Valsala’s confession had changed everything.

“Leave it to me,” Krishna said finally.

Abhimanyu and Valsala looked at each other, relieved. “You are our only hope,” Valsala said to her uncle.

Krishna looked at them wryly and placed his hand on his niece’s head in affection. The young lovers walked away, leaving Krishna worried. Had he committed to more than he could deliver? Years before, he had rescued his sister Subhadra from Duryodhana on the eve of their marriage. Now it was the turn of Subhadra’s son. He would have to make Lakshmana Kumara look like a fool and turn Balarama against Duryodhana in order to compel Duryodhana to call off the marriage. Could he pull it off? He regretted having to do it to Duryodhana’s soft-spoken son, but there was no choice. Krishna was one of the few who knew where the Pandavas were hiding. It had now become necessary to talk to Arjuna and ask for Bhima’s help. His head whirling with plans, Krishna galloped off in search of the Pandavas. There was no time to lose.

***

“I know, Arjuna, it is not an ideal situation, but we must think of Abhimanyu and Valsala’s happiness. Also, if the marriage takes place, it will strengthen Duryodhana’s position. It is in our own interest to stop it.”