Yakshagni - An odyssey of unbroken devotion - II

 25) River Yakshagni

It took a long time for Dharma to fall asleep. She lay there in the dark, watching the metro and billboards through the glass pane of the French door. She even counted the number of planes that descended for landing. The L-shaped living room, with one part of it, allocated to the dining, gave way to the kitchen and study. Next to the kitchen doorway, there was a small flight of steps that led to a landing, which gave access to the bedrooms. 

Although it felt strange to sleep in Maurya's apartment, Dharma was puzzled by the inexplicable sense of contentment that assailed her. Curling on one side, she refused to think further and fell into a deep sleep.

*************

As soon as he opened his eyes, Maurya's first thought centered on Dharma. He looked out of the window. The morning was still grey, and the day had not yet unfolded. The previous day's events jolted him awake and he pondered if her bruises had healed from the application of the ointment. Last night, he had been incensed at Chaitanya's audacity to assault Dharma in public. Subsequently, Maurya tried to gather as much information as possible about the legal punishments for stalking and molesting. Hence, he went to bed late; nevertheless, he slept well and woke up refreshed. Grabbing his track pants, he got ready to go for a jog.

The urge to take a look at the sleeping Dharma was too great to be ignored and just before letting himself out of the door, he peeped into the couch. Snuggled into the warm blanket, she was fast asleep and had one palm resting under her chin. A few silky strands had strayed to her face, gliding over her eyes. Maurya itched to brush them away but he checked his impulses. In repose, her beauty was underlined with a soft vulnerability that aroused his most basic biological instinct; to protect and keep her safe.

Before he did something uncharacteristic, he left the apartment swiftly for his routine morning run.

****************

When the sunlight streamed through the window, Dharma woke up with a much-needed feeling of restfulness. She had slept so deeply that it took her a few moments to assimilate where she was. Her eyes wandered around the room, absorbing the quietness of the flat. She folded the blanket neatly and strolled to the balcony. The bright morning welcomed her and she inhaled the crisp day’s spring whiff.

In the bathroom, there was a new dental pack and a freshly laundered towel. She smiled fondly at Maurya's thoughtfulness and wondered if he had woken up. Stepping into the kitchen tentatively, she noticed that all the ingredients for making coffee were placed in an orderly manner on the counter.

Carrying a mug of freshly made coffee, she sauntered into the open room that was Maurya's study. On the wall opposite the doorway, there was a large painting. Dharma peered at the name scribbled at the bottom. To her surprise, it was Vishu Marco. She studied the painting. It seemed like the solar system. Bright colours were splashed in a circular motion and in the center of the canvas, there was a black ring. She let her fingers run over the darkly painted ring.

"It is the black hole of space where the light gets trapped..." Maurya said and she swivelled around guiltily.

"Sorry, I just got curious and wandered into the room," Dharma felt the need to offer an explanation.

Noticing his track pants, jacket, and running shoes, Dharma gleaned that Maurya was returning from his morning jog. He had a towel around his neck and his hair was wet.

"No problem. Vishu is one of my favourite artists."

"Is it the same black hole whose gravitational pull does not allow anything to escape?"

"Yes, the black hole reminds me of my past, where the earliest memories of my life are trapped."

The comparison surprised her. Nodding quietly, she remarked, "I know Vishu Marco."

"You were his muse, weren't you?" his curiosity was evident.

She shot him a surprised look, "Yes, but how do you know that?"

Maurya cursed himself for the slip of tongue, "I guess Kedar told me."

Dharma frowned at his explanation. She didn't know that Kedar was that friendly with Maurya.

"I posed for only one painting," Dharma clarified.

Maurya wanted to change the topic before he blurted out something that would make him look like a fool. "I hope you had no problem in making the coffee," he inquired but her next words made him reconsider his decision.

With thoughts far away, Dharma murmured, "You know, someone bought the painting from Vishu and he didn't tell me the name of the buyer. I wonder if it was Chaitanya who bought it."

The disquiet in her eyes bothered him, and in his compelling need to erase her worries, he spilled the beans, "I have it."

There was no reaction from Dharma for an instant and she stared at him in perplexed shock, wondering if she heard him right. Haltingly, each word he had uttered, took meaning and she let her breath out in trepidation. 

Maurya's eyes flared with a sudden flurry of yearning and appeal.

"You have it?" she questioned, failing to get the picture.

"Yes," he moved into the room and drew out the canvas from a drawer. He showed it to her. Dharma stared at her own image with stunned shock. How did he get it? And why did he buy it?

"It was the center piece in the exhibition, and I had promised Vishu that I would buy his masterpiece. So, here it is; but you can have it."

The numerous questions that were churning in her head, had to be stifled as Dharma regarded the painting with a sudden dislike.

"I can't afford it," she replied with an abrupt coldness that baffled Maurya.

"It is a gift from me. Take it."

Dharma shook her head in denial, "I cannot accept such an expensive gift. Also, I don't need it." Dharma returned to the living room hastily and packed her bag.

For the first time in his life, after Mahendran Namboodri, Maurya wanted to provide a justification for his actions to someone. He followed her, "Listen, it is not what you think...." Maurya began but she interrupted him.

"What do you think, I think? What would you know about my thoughts?"

Maurya was bewildered by her temper, "I don't understand why you are angry. I told you I bought this because I had promised Vishu."

"So, has Rashika seen this painting?"

Maurya stared at Dharma, gradually understanding her displeasure, "No...."

"Why not?" she asked, folding her hands in the middle.

"I...." Maurya fumbled for an answer. Very rarely, Maurya found himself at a loss for words but that morning was one of the exceptions.

"I don't want the painting and if you don't want it either, return it to Vishu. If Rashika sees it, she would blame me, assuming, without using a whit of her brain that I persuaded you to buy it. And her next step would be to chuck me out of the company."

"Of course, that will not happen. Did she accuse you of such a thing before?" Maurya asked incredulously.

Dharma did not answer his question, instead, she carried on, "I have no intention of being kicked out of my job for no fault of mine. I refuse to be a victim of meaningless allegations. So, I advise you to get rid of the painting before your marriage."

Maurya gaped at her in astonishment as she walked out of the apartment with her head held high. It took some moments for Maurya to register that Dharma had left. He combed his fingers through his strands. Damn, what the hell made him show the painting to her? Had he lost his common sense?

At the core of his heart, he understood her agitation. Coming on the heels of the creep's behaviour, Maurya's possession of the painting would have seemed to her like a stalker's conduct. However, he had to agree on one thing she said. It was indeed her face on the canvas that had persuaded him to buy it. In fact, it had mesmerized him.

So, what in the name had made him offer it as a gift to her? That had been such a crass thing to do.

Shaking his head at his foolhardiness, he took out his mobile and typed an apology but deleted it as an afterthought. No, he will call her and speak to her. Sighing, his eyes fell on the tube of ointment that she had left on the center table. Once again, he cursed his obtuse brain for flaunting the piece of art to her.

************

Shankaran Murthy and Dushyant made their routine trip to Saraswathi Mahal and took their usual seats. The manuscript that they had been scrutinizing for the last two days was in front of them. They had read the poem on River Yakshagni many times and yet they hadn't arrived at a conclusion.

Dushyant tried to recognize the connotation behind each line of the stanza. At first, he, like Shankaran, had been confused. Later, after reading the stanzas many times, he understood the significance of each line.

River Yakshagni

The Lady of the Forest,

Fair of face and heart of gold,

Mistress of love & goddess of happiness,

My heart will hold you forever in gratitude.

The guardian of the forest,

Not a serpent and not a crocodile in your runnel,

Holding an enigma in your bosom & cascading through aeon,

My soul will worship you forever in honour.

The enlightened soul of the forest,

Through every vicissitude of time,

The story of posterity; embalmed in your heart,

My spirit will glide through you, to infinity.

Oh, glorious Yakshagni,

The mighty river of the Yakshas,

Take care of the spirits,

That have taken sanctuary in your eternity.

He explained the first stanza to Shankaran, "It is an ode to River Yakshagni, and in the next stanza, read the second line Shankaran...Not a serpent and not a crocodile in your runnel, which means that these creatures stayed away from the waters of Yakshagni, and listen to the third line...holding an enigma in your bosom...It means there was a secret associated with this river, Shankaran."

"And that secret could be the blackhole you were talking about..." Shankaran suggested.

"Not blackhole but wormhole. Yes, cascading through aeon... meaning, flowing through time..."

"Third stanza says, through every vicissitude of time, the story of posterity embalmed in your heart...." Shankaran followed Dushyant's line of thought.

"Yes, my spirit will glide through you to infinity...It means one will travel through the river to the endless, Shankaran. Oh my god, what a discovery!"

Dushyant's enthusiasm rubbed off on Shankaran too, "Where does it flow currently?"

"Don't know Shankaran, but it would be such a revelation to the world. Imagine a river with a wormhole...in which you can bypass time and reach another era..."

"How do you mean?"

"The wormhole, Shankaran, is such that when one passes through it, they reach another time period. Sometime in the future. Wormholes link disparate points in spacetime. That is the beauty of them. And I am certain that my ancestor who had escaped from the kingdom reached another era by travelling through the wormhole."

To Shankaran, it all seemed vague and bewildering. He couldn't understand how one could escape time like that. Even if he had misgivings about the theory or was unable to correlate it to the present era, he did not doubt Dushyant, who believed that such a mystery existed in the bygone era.

"If he had travelled through the wormhole, where did he reach?"

"That is what I am trying to find Shankaran. We will have to check the map of this river Yakshagni."

"The name of the river could have changed over the years," Shankaran suggested.

"Yes, it may have but I believe, if we try hard, we can find the newer name..."

They began to peruse the old manuscripts once again.

"Hear this Shankaran, River Yakshagni was a revered one in the dynasties of Shunga, and before that, in Alaka. No one knew from where the river originated but it flowed through Saugandhika Forest. Part of the forest had been burnt down but the rest of the forest forms a part of the lower ranges of the Himalayas even today.

"You know the geography of Himalayas, don't you? You stay in Almora," Shankaran quizzed.

"Yes, but the ranges stretch from one end of the country to the other. Where do I go looking for it?"

"You can verify here, in some old map."

"I suppose I should. I have heard that Saugandhika Forest was home to all kinds of trees and supported countless life forms."

"Saugandhika was a fragrant flower that Bhim of the Pandavas went in search of and found for his beloved Draupadi," Shankaran added casually, taking a look at the old map he found folded in one of the manuscripts.

"Yes, I know."

They had almost finished for the day when Shankaran cried out, "Listen to this Dushyant, this mighty river that flowed through a forest had shrunk to a stream but willed herself to travel to the end of the land and surrender into the waters of the ocean where three seas converged. Once called the longest river, it branched itself into many small tributaries before abdicating herself into the ocean." Shankaran glanced at Dushyant, "What do you think?"

"Interesting, so the river found its way from the Himalayas to the Indian Ocean. And on her way, she branched out into many rivulets. Maybe this is our Yakshagni..."

"True, how do we trace its course?"

"Wait! Let us hit the source of all answers to all questions today – the internet!"

Over dinner, Dushyant read aloud from the webpage on his phone, "River Maitsaya which had once been known as the revered river of Yakshas, who lived in the ranges of the Himalayas and Saugandhika Forest, branched into many tributaries before heading to the south. Shankaran, this may be the river we are looking for."

"Is Maitsaya another name for Yakshagni?"

"I suppose! The newer name I believe."

"Tell me, who are these, Yakshas?" Shankaran asked curiously. For the past two weeks, he had been hearing the name of the tribe quite frequently and he was quite interested.

"Yakshas were a powerful tribe, Shankaran. They lived mostly in the forest of Saugandhika. There were many other tribes but Yakshas were considered the most intelligent of them all. Some of them were even part of the battalions. The Yakshis, the women of the tribe were outstandingly beautiful and could bewitch any man."

"So, were they humans?"

"Yes! However, they were born with special powers. They were magicians and were an indomitable shape-shifting clan. They were not visible to human eyes during the day. One could get a glimpse of them at twilight hours."

"Interesting!"

"Yes, it is believed that most of them jumped into the river when their forest was burnt down."

"So, did they also journey through time?"

"Probably, to another age...I believe they were mostly relegated to folklore in the subsequent centuries. Yet, there is a strong belief that they existed once upon a time."

"Were there other tribes too?"

"There were Kinaras who lived in the mountain ranges of Mandara, then there were Kimpurushas who lived in another forest..."

"Dushyant...Sometimes, I envy you for possessing so much knowledge."

"My family has been forced to study these stories. They have been drummed into our heads since the day we were born. My family thinks that we must carry forward this knowledge to our succeeding generations so that one of them would rise again to bring back the lost glory of our ancestors."

"But you don't believe it anymore?" Shankaran asked shrewdly.

"Of course, I want to know the story of my ancestor who went missing. Having said that, I must make it clear that I don't agree with my family's dictum.

"Oh, why not?"