CHAPTER 21 The Rustling Curtain
Is it possible to think of two different things at the same time? From his experience that day, Vandiyathevan felt that it was.
He was passing through the most fertile region in the Chozha country. It was the season when fresh water flowed through the channels, weirs and dams into the fields and canals.
Everywhere one looked, there was water. How appropriate, to call the Chozha country Valanadu, the land of plenty, and to call its king Valavan, “The Lord of Abundance.” This thought led him to remember the dangers that the Chozha king faced.
He wondered what his duty was. Could he consider his duty done when he had delivered the scroll to the Emperor? Why did he have to involve himself in these internecine quarrels among the clansmen of the royal Chozhas? What did it matter to him who ascended the Chozha throne? Weren’t they actually his clan's ancestral foes? The Chozhas, the Gangas and the Vaidumbarayas had once joined forces to see that there was no trace left of his kingdom, Vanagappadi. Could Aditha Karikalar's present kindness to him wipe out all those acts of injustice? Che, che, how could such events be called injustices? It was only natural that kings fought one another, and that victory and defeat alternated. Was there any point in the vanquished being angry with the victors? When his ancestors had been in a favourable position, had they not terrorised their enemies? Had they not tried to annihilate them? Ballads had been composed about how they had vanquished their foes and planted their heads in the soil.
With armed men for fodder Wet with warm blood
Trod on by mighty elephants
In such a field did Vanan
That mighty King of Kings Plant the hapless heads
Of the three kings
Even his ancestors had perpetrated barbaric deeds like this on the battlefield. Those who lost in battle always suffered a terrible fate. Could all kings be embodiments of mercy like Rama and [27] Dharmaputhra, both of whom had to go to the forest and suffer? There should be no mercy in politics.
Coming to think of it, we can say that these, the members of the Chozha clan, are somewhat merciful. They try to make friends with their enemies whenever they can. They even forge new connections, marrying outside the clan! Didn’t Sundara Chozhar’s father Arinjayar marry the beautiful Vaidumbaraya princess, Kalyani? And wasn’t it because Sundara Chozhar was the son of Kalyani, renowned for her beauty, that he and his children were so good looking? Ah! Talking about beautiful women, he thought, reminds me of the woman from Kudandhai, the woman on the banks of the Arisilar. These thoughts did not come to him from nowhere, they had always lain in his subconscious.
And so, while Vandiyathevan's conscious mind enjoyed the natural beauty of the fertile Chozha country and dwelt on the confusion that prevailed in the state of affairs there, his subconscious was fully engaged in thoughts of that woman.
Both the thought processes now merged and fixed themselves on the woman. He began to compare everything beautiful in nature to her physical features. The bamboo brought her smooth shoulders to mind, the lilies in full bloom that grew in profusion in the brooks were like her eyes. He doubted whether the lotus could equal her golden face. Was it right to compare the hum of the bees that buzzed around the flowers on the riverside to her melodious voice? Poetry spoke of such things, but in reality, could her beauty be described in words? Even to look at her gave him gooseflesh. To think of her made his heart flutter. He did not feel the same way when he saw the flowers and the bees.
Che! Che! We've forgotten the advice our elders gave us, he thought. There is no maya, no illusion, more dangerous in life than being infatuated with a woman. No one who wants to succeed in life should fall into the net of infatuation. If he does, he is finished! Kovalan's story illustrated this fact admirably. And why only Kovalan’s? Wasn't it for the same reason that people talked so mockingly of Pazhuvettarayar, the great warrior of the Chozha country, whose authority was unequalled? But people did not know the truth. They did not know who Pazhuvettarayar was escorting in the covered palanquin. They therefore spoke foolishly. But Madurantaka Thevar should not have stooped to such depths. Chee! Chee! How could he go from town to town in a closed palanquin, pretending to be the Rani? Was this a manly thing to do? Must he earn a kingdom this way? And how would he protect a kingdom obtained this way? Would he not have to depend on Pazhuvettarayar and the others? Would he not have to conform to their wishes while he reigned? In this matter, not even what the Emperor Sundara Chozhar was doing was commendable. He should not have entrusted so much power or given such importance to people like Pazhuvettarayar especially when he had two such sterling sons and when he had a daughter whose intelligence was admired the world over.
The lady I saw in the josier's house, the one I talked to on the river bank — whom does she resemble? Could it be...?
Madness! It could never be. Why not? If it is, there's no one as stupid as me! And none more luckless! One whose fame had spread from Lanka to the Vindhyas, how could I have behaved towards her in such a boorish fashion? It’s not possible at all. How will I face her with the scroll the Prince sent?
Vandiyathevan neared Thiruvaiyaru and arrived at the southern bank thinking these thoughts that spun between the sky and the earth. Thiruvaiyaru was on the northern bank.
The fertility and beauty of the region captured his heart. He checked to make certain that it was Thiruvaiyaru. He felt that everything he had heard about the greatness of this wonderful kshetram, this sacred place, fell short of the truth. It was exactly like Gnanasambandhar's description in the thevaram. There had been no change in the last three hundred years. How huge the trees on the banks of the Kaveri were! Enormous jackfruits hung from the trees. Nothing like this could ever be seen in Thondaimandalam. Aha! Monkeys
somehow seem to gather in fertile places. It was so fascinating to watch them jump from branch to branch. What had Sambandhar said? I remember now! The girls dance in the street corners in Thiruvaiyaru and the drums beat in time to the music. When they hear the drums, the monkeys think it is the sound of thunder, clamber up the trees and gaze upwards, waiting for rain! Adada! How appropriate it is even today! The monkeys climb right up to the tops of the tall trees. Sweet strains of music float out from the town to the rhythms of the dance. Along with the sound of the yazh, the muzhavu, the thannumai, the flute and other instruments comes the tinkling of anklet-bells. These dancers are not like the ones who performed the kuravaikoothu at Sambuvaraiyar’s palace. Ah, this was melodious music: the sound of the anklet-bells of the Bharatnatyam dancers and the beat of the kol, the wooden stick the dance teachers use to keep time.
Justly famed is Thiruvaiyaru
Bejewelled and beautiful
The women dance
To the beat of the kol.
On their faces, those half-open buds
Their eyes move, like chel fish,
And their brows arch like bows.
Aha! Sambandhar Swamigal was an ardent devotee of Siva and a great rasika. Thiruvaiyaru is just as he described. He must spend at least a day, thought Vandiyathevan, enjoy the dance and music and have a darshan of Ayyarappan and Aramvalarthanayaki. How many devotees were seated on the banks of the Kaveri, performing religious rituals! How good they looked, smeared with vibhuthi! Sometimes the chant of “Namasivaya” drowned the sounds of the music and dance. There, somebody was singing Sambandhar's thevaram beautifully. Thiruvaiyaru seemed to be a place God had created for music and art. I must stay here, he thought, at least for a day. What was the use of hurrying to Thanjavur? Would he be able to enter the fort? And if he did enter, would he be able to meet the Emperor? It was said that the two Pazhuvettarayars kept him there like a prisoner. Better to go to the north bank of the Kaveri.
No sooner did Vandiyathevan come to a decision to cross the river and continue his journey than something happened.
From the west, a palanquin came along the bank of the Kaveri, with guards at its front and rear. Suspicion stirred in Vandiyathevan’s mind. He waited until the palanquin was near him. Yes, he was right. The curtains covering the palanquin bore the palmyra insignia. Aha! This palanquin was certainly coming from Kadambur. While he had come through Kudandhai, they had obviously taken a different route. But there was no sign of Pazhuvettarayar. Perhaps he had stopped on the way.
The palanquin turned south towards Thanjavur. So that was it. Vandiyathevan abandoned his plan to halt at Thiruvaiyaru and decided to follow the palanquin. At that point, he did not know why he took this decision. All he knew for certain was that it was Madurantaka Thevar seated inside. His dislike for him increased. But he thought he might get lucky if he followed the palanquin for a while. The bearers might rest it on the ground. Prince Madurantakar might step out for some reason. He could then get to know him. It would help him gain entry into the Thanjavur fort and obtain an audience with the Emperor. Maybe he could talk his way into it. If he did not resort to some kind of chicanery, especially since this had to do with matters of state, he would not achieve what he had set out to do, would he?
Therefore, Vandiyathevan allowed the palanquin and its entourage to go ahead and followed it at a safe distance. But he did not get the opportunity he was waiting for. Even after they crossed the four rivers between the Kaveri and Thanjavur, the palanquin did not halt. The bearers went on without respite. Soon the ramparts and gates of the Thanjavur fort were within view. Once the palanquin entered the fort, his plan would not succeed. He had to do something drastic before that. After all, what could happen to him?
Would he lose his head? So what? What was the point of returning alive if he did not succeed in his mission?
Underneath all this was Vandiyathevan's anger against Madurantakar. His mind yearned and his fingers itched to rip apart the curtains of the palanquin, and expose, not a woman, but the grown man inside.
While he was trying hard to find a solution, one of the guards in the entourage slowed down and stared hard at Vandiyathevan.
“Who are you and why have you been following us from Thiruvaiyaru” he asked.
“I’m not following you, ayya! I’m going to Thanjavur. Doesn’t this road lead there?” asked Vandiyathevan.
“Yes, this road goes to Thanjavur. But only important dignitaries may use it. There’s another road for the others,” said the guard.
“Is that so? Well, I’m an important person too, Vandiyathevan.
The guard smiled and asked, “Why are you going to Thanjavur?”
“My chithappa is there. I hear he's ill, I’m going to visit him.”
“What does your chithappa do there? Is he working in the palace?”
“No, no, he’s the custodian of the choultry.”
“Oho! Is that so? Then why don’t you go ahead of us? Why are you following us?”
“My horse is tired, that’s why. What satisfaction do you suppose I get from looking at your backside?”
While he talked, Vandiyathevan drew nearer the palanquin. The solution he had been racking his brains for suddenly came to him. He dug his feet into the horse's side, tugged its reins and drove it onto the bearers at the rear of the palanquin. They looked back, terrified. Vandiyathevan shouted, “Maharaja, maharaja! The palanquin bearers have rammed into my horse! Aiyo, Aiyo!”
The curtain covering the palanquin rustled.