Yakshagni - An odyssey of unbroken devotion - II

 28) The Storm Clouds

Chaitanya cursed the tasteless food but he swallowed it. He needed his strength to make his escape from the cell to find his Dharma. She had given him the slip the other day and the auto-driver had brought him to the station. He swore that he would kill the rascal once he was out of the lock-up. Nonetheless, right now he needed to escape and take Dharma to an unknown destination where there was a place only for the two of them.

He had already made friends with two of the inmates. With their help, he would get out of the stinking hole. Due to public holidays, the hearing was adjourned for another week. He had heard that they were closing in on him with multiple charges. Therefore, he was aware that the law would not let him free soon. The only way for him was to make an escape as soon as possible.

There were five of them in the lock-up and out of the five, two of them were old and miserable. Chaitanya hadn't bothered to talk to them. The other two had made friends with him and in three days, they would be out on the roads.

*********

The storm clouds gathering over Modhera worried Dharma. After learning the weather pattern of the region, she had been confident that there was not a chance of rain at this time of the year. And hence, she was on pins and needles at the sight of the darkening clouds. With only a couple of days left for the event, Dharma and her team had arrived earlier to oversee the preparations. The trial run with models was planned a day before the event.

While she was consulting the event manager about the light and sound effects for the show, there was a visitor at the gate, curious to know the reason for the unusual activities on the premises of the age-old temple.

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

Though the weather report had warned him about a windstorm in Mehsana and Modhera, it had not stalled Dushyant from exploring Mehsana.

The next morning, he journeyed to the Sun temple in Modhera. To his surprise, the place was bustling with activity. Other than a few tourists, there were also workers setting up a makeshift stage for an event. When he inquired, the guard informed him about a show scheduled in the next couple of days.

On his way to the main entrance of the temple, Dushyant paused near the ancient water tank. He was particularly fascinated by the magnificent shrines built around the Kund. He couldn't take his eyes off them. Noticing the small group huddled together in discussion, he walked towards them. His gaze caught the tall and beautiful girl. Her short hair was tied back in a high ponytail and she was showing her sketch to others. From her stance, Dushyant got the impression that she was heading the project. He waited for her to finish the discussion so that he could have a word with her.

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

Dharma was satisfied with the event manager, Ayesha's plans. Her seating arrangements sounded perfect.

"These storm clouds are bothering me. I hope it does not rain that evening," Dharma voiced her concern.

"I was thinking of the same. Why not be prepared for an alternate arrangement? The show starts at seven. If bad weather persists by that evening, we should be able to shift the show inside," Ayesha suggested.

"How do we carry that out?"

"We will have to arrange it inside the Gudhamandapa and Garbhagriha."

"But we don't have permission to do that. We managed to get permission for this with great difficulty," Dharma pointed out, thinking of other options.

"They do conduct a three-day dance festival and Mahotsavs. Why not allow this?"

"I think Uttararadha Mahotsav is a state-sponsored festival. Even that is conducted on the outer premises, not inside the halls."

"Then talk to Rashika or Maurya. We need the permit, Dharma. If by chance, it starts to rain, all our efforts will go to waste. Also, we need to arrange the lighting and sound system inside the halls, in case we have it there."

"Ok, I will discuss it with them. Let us hope we don't have to face it," Dharma counted on her prayers, keeping her fingers crossed.

After convincing Ayesha that she would talk to the management, Dharma moved to have a word with the technicians. Rashika, Maurya, and the rest of the team would be arriving only on the morning of the day of the event. Dharma debated if she should request them to reach earlier.

Someone greeted her. Turning around, she saw a handsome, middle-aged man.

"Hello, I believe you are conducting an event here," Dushyant asked the lovely young girl. Her radiant eyes captivated him.

"Yes," she answered politely, wondering what an aristocratic-looking man like him did for a living. "Are you here to help us?"

"No no… I am here as a tourist. I was just curious about the event," he replied.

"Oh... We are organizing a fashion show."

"Are you in charge of the event?" he hoped that she wouldn't mind his interest.

"No, I am just the designer.” The man's bearings spoke of authority however she was not certain.

"Right! So, you are an artist?"

"Yes..."

"Never seen a live fashion show in my life," Dushyant uttered thoughtfully.

"If you are interested, I can give you a pass," she offered out of courtesy.

"Aren't they priced exorbitant?" Dushyant asked, even though he could afford such prices.

Smiling, she answered, "Not always."

"Oh then, I will certainly be happy to watch it. By the way, I am Dushyant Bhadera."

"I am Dharma...Where do you come from?" Dharma asked, searching for the invitations in her bag.

“I am from Almora."

Dharma's face shot up. "Oh, how nice! I am from Parijatpur," Dharma gushed with excitement.

"Never thought that I would come across someone from the mountains here."

"I have heard that Almora is very beautiful at this time of the year," she handed him the pass and Dushyant glanced at it.

"Yes, the clouds vanish and one gets to see the Kumaon peaks. How about Parijatpur? I have been there once to see a relative."

"Oh, very beautiful. I grew up in Mohandham," Dharma didn't know why she said that because she was never this effusive with strangers.

"What a coincidence then! Jaydev Mohan was a distant relative of my family. You must have heard of him."

Astonished, Dharma nodded vehemently, "Yes, I know him and Ambika ma'am very well."

"What a small world we live in...."

Dushyant's opinion of Dharma went a notch higher after he learnt that she grew up in Mohandham.

"Now that you have told me that you are from Parijatpur, I will not miss the event for sure," he glanced at the invitation once again. "How much do I pay for it?"

"No, no, you are my guest..."

The show was named, "A Walkway into the sunny past". It had the time, date, and venue of the event. Very artistically designed, the invitation had no mention of the designer.

"You designed this?"

"No, I only design garments."

"So why is your name not mentioned?"

"The company is organizing the show. We are part of the company," Dharma explained, amused by the man's interest.

"Why is it called the past? Are you showcasing old trends?"

"No, actually, the trends are new and the textiles are from this region but the theme and the prints depict those times when this temple was built, the war with Ghazni, the rebuilding of the temple, and the story of the Sun. The prints have the Sun god riding a chariot and commanding the universe hence we call it "A walkway into the sunny past."

"Fascinating..."

Unable to hold back, Dharma blurted out, "I only hope that it does not rain."

Dushyant looked up at the ominous sky, "I understand what you mean. I guess the storm would be over before the event. The event is the day after tomorrow, right?"

"Yes!"

"The storm will pass by then," Dushyant's words were comforting.

"I hope you are right."

"Thank you for the invitation. Let me take a look at the temple. I will catch you before leaving."

Dharma nodded, staring after him as he strolled towards the halls.

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

Even at four in the evening, the work continued in full steam and some of the temple officials visited the site to instruct the team on what not to encroach. The sky cleared and Dharma heaved a sigh of relief.

One of the local workers fixing lights on the erected pole pointed out, "When it rains heavily, the river fills up and it overflows this side."

Dharma countered, "But the sky has cleared. So, it is safe."

"Can you hear any sound of a bird? They have all gone silent because they fear an incoming storm."

His reasoning once again made Dharma anxious. She ran her eyes around the arrangements. What would she do if it rained? Dharma sauntered towards the reservoir and gazed at the architectural beauty.

"I see you haven't finished your work yet..." Dushyant said, coming to stand beside her.

"It will take another hour to wind up. Have you finished your tour?"

"No, I have come in search of something so I will be visiting the temple regularly for the next couple of days. "

"Oh," curiously, Dharma wanted to know his objective. He didn't look like a normal tourist. There was a purpose to his visit. He was probably a historian, searching for evidence.

"I visited many historical places before this but I realized that this temple may have what I am looking for."

"Why this particular temple?" Dharma asked, studying Dushyant's classical features.

"It is built on the bank of the river Pushpavati. It is a tributary of a very ancient river, and I thought this being a very old construction, I might find something interesting. I believe the river is right behind this temple. I am going to have a look at it. You can join me if you are interested..." Dushyant suggested and Dharma mulled. Some of the workers had eaten lunch by the riverside and they had told her that it was quite peaceful there. Tempted beyond reason, Dharma accompanied Dushyant to the river Pushpavati.

As they walked across the garden towards the river, Dushyant asked, "Can you smell the wetness in the air? A river flows quietly but it makes sure that the surrounding inhabitants know that it exists..."

"True...but the air is very still today. No breeze..."

"Yes, the storm is arriving...it is the lull before the storm..."

"Oh no, this would not be good for the show."

"I told you the storm will be over before the show. Relax and ask the workers to not put up tents."

"No, there will be no tents."

They reached the bank of the river. The water flowed very quietly in the narrow river. They couldn't go very close to the river. Wild vegetation blocked them so they viewed it from a distance.

"There used to be a port here. Modhera was famous as a busy port those days..." Dushyant informed as they watched the river.

"Why does this river interest you so much? It is an ordinary river..."

"But it carries an extraordinary legacy. I believe this one branched from a major river that used to be worshipped and revered by many tribes in the olden days. The ancient kingdoms devoted a certain period of a year to celebrate the sacred river."

"Oh, that reminds me. When I was here last time, I met the caretaker of this temple in Mehsana. He does not work here anymore but I visited him to hear some tales so that I could add it in my narration for the show."

"And did he tell you anything?"

"Yes, apparently in those days, there was a very brave governor to King Bhim – I."

"Yes, I heard about the one who helped the king to crush the rebellion at Arbuda."

Surprised and impressed by his knowledge, Dharma continued, "That is right. He was the one who helped the king. His name was Jalindra and he was found by the river."

Dushyant's gaze pivoted to her, "Found by the river? What do you mean?" his disbelief flared at the piece of information. He listened to the story of Jalindra with charged-up attention.

"Jalindra meaning the lord of the water was found by the river when he was twenty or so. He and the king became very good friends and when the king returned after Ghazni's invasion, he made Jalindra his right-hand man. Although he was a successful governor, there was something that haunted Jalindra all through his life. He was tormented by something that never allowed him to sleep well. He is believed to have visited magicians and witches to release him from the agony."

Dushyant's instincts told him that this was what he had been seeking to discover.

"The local puppeteers used to recount his story. They believed that Jalindra was tortured by his past life or some love that he had left behind. Subsequently, he was worshipped as a tragic romantic hero."

As Dharma concluded Jalindra's story, they contemplated the slow-moving river. The passing of time had indeed stripped the river of its glory. To Dharma, it seemed to flow now without hope or care.

The thick and menacing clouds appeared once again. The rolling thunder reminded Dharma of the approaching trouble.

"I told you the storm will pass before the event," Dushyant reiterated as they sauntered back to the temple.

Pooja called out, "Dharma, we are winding up for the day. The workers are saying that it will rain tonight. Hopefully, it will be over by the day after."

Nodding at Pooja, Dharma turned to Dushyant, "It was nice meeting you. I will see you at the event."

"Sure, I will be here tomorrow also. Now that you have told me about Jalindra, I will be searching for more evidence."

"You can start with his cenotaph."

"Is there one here?"

"Yes, it is built in one corner of the Kund. There is a poem written on its wall. The caretaker told me that the then ruler inscribed the poem on the cenotaph."

Dushyant caught his breath at the news of the inscription. He glanced at the reservoir but he was confused by the numerous ones.

"Dharma, I want your help. I hope you won't mind."

"No, of course not."

"Can you point out Jalindra's shrine to me?"

"I will take you there."

"No, that is alright. You have so much to do here. I can go on my own."

"I love going down the steps to the well, Come, I will take you," she led the way. His heart beat erratically as he followed her. He hoped he would not be disappointed once again.

They went down the steps very carefully. When they reached the corner of the sides where Jalindra's shrine was built, Dharma pointed out, "See, that one is Jalindra's. The writing is in Hindi but there is no idol inside."

Dushyant knelt to study the inner walls of the shrine. Dharma stayed as he scrutinized the etchings.

Moments later, Dushyant rose, his face sweating profusely.

"Are you alright? You seem shocked," Dharma asked with concern.

Dushyant shook his head in incredulity. He could not believe his luck.

"Do you need help to climb up?" Dharma berated herself for urging the older man to come down the steps.

"I have been searching my whole life for this. Good lord, I still can't believe it," Dushyant uttered dramatically.

Dharma waited for him to elaborate.

"Fair of face and heart of gold,

Mistress of love and goddess of happiness,

My heart will hold you forever in gratitude."

Dushyant recited the inscription by heart.

Surprised by his rendering, Dharma asked him, "Have you read the verse before?"

"I know the full poem."

"Oh! Is it in praise of a queen or Jalindra's old love?"

Dushyant laughed heartily, "No, this is priceless. It is an ode to a river called Yakshagni of the olden time."  

#Fiction #FantasyRomance #Yakshagni #River #Ancients #Prophecy #Stories #TimeTravel #Universe

Yakshagni - An odyssey of unbroken devotion - II

 27) The Grim Discovery

Maurya was unsettled and disoriented by the realization. He simply had no idea what to do. Was he discomfited about the hypothesis that he had loved Dharma before? Surprisingly, he wasn't. A wide range of sensations overwhelmed him, their intensity staggering his usually collected countenance. What made him so certain that it had been Dharma who had talked to him about the Sun and the Moon being the Earth's parents? As far as he knew, no one else had come up with such unconventional theories, not even Mahendran Namboodri.

"Explain your theory once again…" he directed.

Grimacing at his tone, she carried on, "I said Autumn comes after..."

Maurya broke her off, "No, not about autumn. You said something about the Sun, the Moon and the Earth."

"Oh, that! That is something I came up with. I consider the Sun and the Moon as the parents of our planet," Dharma said in response.

"Has someone mentioned this earlier to you or is it your own theory?"

"Actually, I don't know. I think it was me who arrived at this conclusion but maybe someone else pointed this out to me when I was young."

Maurya frowned as he considered her face thoughtfully. Why did her words entail a feeling of déjà vu to him?

Dharma turned to thrust the dress back on the stand.  His next words aggrieved her, "When I make an appointment for a meeting, I expect you to be there. Don't send your assistants instead."

Her temper tethered dangerously on edge, added to it was his imposing presence which befuddled her brain. She checked her temper and asked calmly, "Are you angry because I didn't show up or because I didn't obey you regarding the show-stopper piece? I never thought you would turn out to be a Hitler!"

Maurya raised his brows and studied her enraged eyes and crimson cheeks. Damn! the silky wisps were disrupting his concentration once again. He lifted his hand to brush back the unruly tendrils that had strayed over her cheeks.

Dharma recoiled as his hand extended towards her and bolted a step back in alarm. She eyed him in suspicion. He dropped his arm and swore silently at his momentary madness.

"I want the original colour for that piece. Don't even think of changing it." With those words, he left her. She stood glaring at his departing back, her jaw clenched in resentment.

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

The next day, when she got to work, she received Maurya's call.

"Well, if you feel that strongly about the colour of the last piece, we can compromise. I suggest you keep blue as the base; add yellow, green and brown prints. That way, we can depict autumn, fall and the Sun," Maurya waited for her response.

"Alright! But I will have to get the last piece printed the way we want. That might take a couple of days more."

"No problem but make sure that the prints match the theme."

Dharma sighed in relief. At least the blue was not banished. In fact, she liked Maurya's suggestion of adding more prints in different colours. This would add zing to the collection. Eager and fired up, she began to sketch the prints and colour them.

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

Maurya had just wound up the meeting when Tapan sauntered in. Following him were two of his assistants who carried a pair of wrapped dresses.

"Maurya, these are the samples we are sending to our retailer in London. Take a look at them."

Maurya perused the outfits. "They look good enough to me. Just make sure that the collars are not turned out. They have to be flattened."

"I will see to it. Otherwise, are they good enough to be displayed?"

Maurya nodded his approval and the assistants carried the garments back while Tapan lingered. When he and Maurya were alone, Tapan summoned the courage to ask, "I heard that you were not happy with the garments that Dharma showed you."

Maurya shot an irritated glare at Tapan, "Since you know everything, why don't you tell me why I was not happy?"

Tapan flushed, "I thought the collection was fabulous. I am just curious as to why you didn't like them."

"We have sorted it out. Anything else?" Maurya asked, his gaze not moving from the laptop screen.

From what Tapan heard, Maurya had been furious about one piece, and that, he had rushed to Index Office to give a hearing to the team. He searched Maurya's face which did not seem very inclined to listen to his counsel.

Maurya raised his gaze to Tapan, "You want to say something, say it. Don't dawdle there pretending to care for my reaction."

"Right! Let me tell you that I have seen the collection and it is fab. So, I request you to not cancel or postpone the show."

Maurya scanned the younger man’s face, "Got it. Now get out...Stop irritating me."

Tapan pivoted on his heels and headed to the door, pleased that Maurya was not cancelling the show. On his way out, he saw the notice board where Maurya's secretary had pinned news clippings about the company from newspapers and magazines. One news item was about Maurya's accident. It read, "Maurya Verma, Chairman of Krishna Industries meets with an accident."

Tapan strode back to Maurya's desk, "Maurya, I forgot to tell you one very important thing. It just slipped my mind."

"What?" Maurya asked, his focus on the annual balance sheet.

"Remember that night...when you had the accident," Tapan prodded Maurya’s memory. When he had Maurya’s attention, he began to fiddle with the paperweight. Maurya spied on Tapan, becoming curious now. He knew Tapan fiddled with something only when he was introspective or serious about something.

"Actually, I got a call from Dharma suddenly that night."

Maurya stiffened, his gaze intent on Tapan.

"Would you believe that she was worried about you? Apparently, she tried calling you many times but when your phone was switched off, she was concerned. She called me then and persuaded me to find you. She was certain that you were in some trouble."

A precipitous silence descended on the room. Tapan glanced at Maurya who had gone unusually tense; his eyes were fixed on the computer screen.

"Maurya, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, go on..."

"So, when she hastened me to check on you, I called you. Your phone was switched off so I called Rita. She said you had left Neemrana. I went around to your flat to see if you had reached and when I didn't find your car, you know what happened."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I wanted to tell you the day you came back to the office after hospitalization but you were in a bad mood then. And later, it slipped out of my mind."

Maurya strolled to the window, staring at the view outside, his hands buried in his pockets.

"I think if it had not been for Dharma, god knows how long you would have lain in there in the cold. I even asked her," Tapan continued and Maurya swivelled around.

"What did you ask her?"

"I asked her how she knew that you were in trouble. She said something like she was worried when your phone was switched off."

Tapan watched Maurya for some reaction but his mentor was looking down at his own shoes, not revealing a wee bit of his feeling. So typical of Maurya! Sighing, Tapan got to his feet, "Anyway, I thought I should tell you."

Tapan strode out of the room but Maurya stayed in the same position, near the window till midnight, his thoughts in turmoil.

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

A week after leaving Thanjavur, Dushyant called Shankaran to report that he was leaving for Modhera the next day. They had parted in Thanjavur as Shankaran had to report for work. Dushyant travelled to a couple of towns during the week, the ones that they had noted down. Finding nothing conclusive in those towns, he planned to travel to the next place in his itinerary.

Yakshagni - An odyssey of unbroken devotion - II

 

26) Déjà vu

"Why not?" Shankaran asked Dushyant.

"Well, all these theories about the ancient rising and regaining the lost glory are exalted thoughts. They don't mean anything to me. I believe in a pragmatic approach to everything. History is not some 'lost and found' object. The glory comes first and degradation follows it. Subsequent generations of rulers learn from the mistakes of their forefathers and move with the times. However, if there was a secret buried somewhere in the past which is detrimental to our posterity, then we do have to find it."

"Right! Still, it intrigues me that there existed a wormhole in those times."

"A wormhole might have existed even a billion years ago. But as a theory, it came to light based on a special solution of the Einstein field Equations. According to Einstein's theory of general relativity, mass and energy corrupt the fabric of space-time and an unusual arrangement of matter and energy allows the formation of a tunnel, a shortcut between two otherwise distant fractions of the universe. It is said that a wormhole can connect a billion light years or short distances like a few light years or even different points in time. Its two ends are separate points in spacetime."

"So, this river had a wormhole and it could be present even now, Isn't it?"

"Unless the river has disappeared," Dushyant noted.

"Agreed! Is this the secret that your family is honour bound to discover?"

"Yes, this is it but there were also many more stories associated with our past, like the prophecy of a love that was written on the banks of an immortal river; although I am not fully aware of it."

"Dushyant, your ancestors had such colourful lives, so many secrets, prophesies! Interesting."

"True! There is always a story or an anecdote to be shared when there is a family gathering. Most of my family members think that he or she is a reincarnated version of a bygone king or queen. You must see their attitude," Dushyant went on to paint a queer picture of his family, evoking rich laughter from Shankaran.

The next morning, they made one last trip to Saraswathi Mahal before they left Thanjavur. They were able to collect more information on River Maitsaya than River Yakshagni, probably due to the fact that Maitsaya was a later name for Yakshagni.

They noted down the tributaries of River Maitsaya and the towns built on their banks. One of the tributaries of River Maitsaya was River Pushpavati on whose bank, the town of Modhera rose.

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

"So, he followed you from the office and got into your auto?" Kamya's eyes expressed her outrage.

Dharma was narrating her ordeal to her friends. She had gone straight to the office from Maurya's apartment in the morning; fuming at the way he had offered the painting as a gift to her.  

"How long is he going to stay in the lock-up?" Brahim inquired.

"Until the next hearing..."

"Seriously, the man must be locked up in a mental institution," Brahim sputtered in indignation.

"What if he is let off before that? How safe are you Dharma?" Kamya raised a point that troubled her.

"We have to take a chance. I can't be frightened of him all the time."

"I agree," Brahim admitted.

Kamya deliberated if it was the right time to share the good news with Dharma.

"I am going for a wash..." Brahim announced, tossing an uncertain look at Kamya. Thrusting her problems aside, Dharma paid heed to their exchange of glances and let her eyes drift over Kamya's face. There was a newfound joy in her visage.

Now that Kamya had got her friend's undivided attention, she lifted her hand and showed her ring finger to Dharma.

"Kamya, what am I missing here? Where did the ring come from?" Dharma's eyes flew to Brahim and his face turned red.

Kamya giggled furtively, "Brahim proposed to me last evening and I accepted his marriage offer."

"What! Oh, my god Kamya," Dharma jumped from the couch, rushed to her friend and hugged her warmly. With mock hurt on her face, Dharma protested, "And you are telling me this now? You should have called me at once and informed me."

"I know but Brahim took me out for dinner and it got late."

"Aww… still you should have messaged me, idiot," Dharma shrieked in excitement. The girls savoured the moment of happiness. Rarely had such giddy and worthy moments touched their lives. Growing up in Mohandham, Jaydev Mohan had often stated that children like them were a gift to society, and that, they had to give unconditional love and care to the needy in the world. However, none of them had received unreserved love, except from the founders themselves. Some of the children had turned bitter, for lack of love. A few like Kamya and Brahim had learnt to take care of themselves and others like Dharma had made efforts to not allow the negativity to affect them. She had learnt to be resilient and hold the loneliness at bay.

"Have you decided on the wedding date?" Dharma's enthusiasm was palpable.

"Sometime next month. As soon as Brahim registers at the court and they give a date. The only thing is they require two witnesses."

"Simple, one me and..." Dharma thought of other friends who could attend the court marriage. She was about to take the name of Garima however Brahim forestalled her, "I thought I will request Maurya to be the second witness."

"Maurya?"

"Yeah, he has been here. Also, we suspect that Maurya was Kamya's benefactor during her accident. I think it is only right that we invite him to the wedding."

Dharma was speechless. When did Maurya become so important to her friends? It irked her but she refused to let it dampen her spirit. All the same, exceptional occasions like this warranted celebration.

"We will go out tomorrow night. It will be my treat," Dharma suggested.

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

Dharma sent her assistant Pooja with the finished garments to Maurya's office for approval. She needed his final nod before she packed them for Modhera. There was also another pressing matter at hand. Rolls of threads of a particular colour had run out of stock and Dharma had to visit the emporium to choose and pick from the available stock.

Additionally, the errand made it easier for her to avoid Maurya. Somehow, the surreptitious way in which he had stashed the canvas, had left her disgruntled. Added to it, was his presumptuous offer to her.

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

Dharma paced the room restlessly. She waited eagerly for Pooja's return. Her anxiety stemmed from her decision about the show-stopper piece. Some days ago, during a discussion with Tapan and Maurya over the phone, she suggested that they should go for a different colour for the final piece. But Maurya had disagreed. She had tried to convince him but he had been adamant. She decided then to show him the final piece in blue, and if it still did not, please Maurya, she would accede to his advice.

Pooja burst into the room. Her long face forewarned Dharma that Maurya had not approved the final piece.

"Dharma, you should have told me why the colour blue was selected. Do you know how angry sir was? And added to it were Rashika Ma'am's comments. There was so much tension," Pooja grumbled, kicking a fuss about Dharma's choice of colour.

"I didn't know he would react so strongly. Don't worry! I will talk to him. I have got the thread rolls. Tell Masterji about it before you leave office."

An hour later, Dharma was engrossed in organizing the coloured buttons when a furious Maurya barged into the room. Swallowing nervously, she waited for him to speak first. Her first thought was that he was going to cancel the Modhera show. He regarded others in the room and bit out, "Can I have a word with Dharma alone?"

Soon, only Dharma and Maurya were left in the room. Dharma struggled to remain unaffected by the flickers of fire in his eyes.  She stayed silent, waiting for the explosion.

Maurya moved stiffly to the work table and perused the fabrics strewn on the table. She followed him, hovering beside the table.

"Why did you change the colour of the final piece without my permission?" a livid Maurya grilled.

"I wanted to convince you!" her poise forced him to look at her. His eyes were frigid. Dharma scrambled to give an explanation, "I just wanted you to have a look at it. If you don't approve, I will scrap it. I have the other fabric ready."

"Stick to the one I told you. If I see any more changes to the original collection, you are out of the show."

Maurya's warning incensed her. Why was he so unyielding?

"The entire collection in different shades of just yellow will not stand out if we don't present a unique final piece. You are not receptive to experimental ideas," Dharma pointed out, prepared for his outburst.

Seething at her impudence, Maurya snarled, "Has anyone else given you freehand to come up with a new collection? That too a raw designer like you. Don’t you think I am taking a huge risk by allowing you an entire collection? So don’t give me a lecture about open-mindedness."

Dharma did not cower at his verbal onslaught. She carried on, "Our theme is Sun and Autumn. In India, autumn is just after the monsoon, the waters in the rivers are settled and the sky is finally clear, giving us a perfect view of the blue. The tiny creatures have disappeared into the earth with the arrival of autumn."

She picked the controversial dress from the stand and showed it to him. "This blue is the colour of a clear sky. The Sun is glad that it can finally come out and serenade the Moon in the blue yonder. The Earth's parents, the Sun and the Moon are ecstatic that they can finally get a view of their offspring."

Maurya went deathly white at her words. Was it a figment of his imagination or had he heard it before? And he was certain that it had been her who had said those words to him. His eyes froze on her, her beauty, the dreamy sparkle in her riveting eyes, and the familiar curve of her lips that tantalised him with its promise.

He went still…He had loved her once... in another time.

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?"