By Benita Patnaik
Urvashi paused to look at her reflection; she removed the hair ornaments and opened her elaborate braids. The sun was setting in the far horizon leaving streaks of pink and purple over the rooftops of Ujjain. Soon Lilavati, her maid, would come in with the lamps and darkness would conquer the last vestiges of the day gone by.
Urvashi’s large kohl-lined eyes sparkled with happiness; her red-painted lips parted to expose her brilliant white teeth; the last pin was out, and her glossy hair tumbled free unbidden on her curvaceous hips; her bangles jingled as she ran her fingers through her tresses.
“Devi! Why did you not wait for me?”, Lilavati tutted in irritation.
Urvashi turned around to look at her maid holding the lamp and walking towards her.
“Oh, Lila! I couldn’t wait to get rid of all that is binding me to this life”, Urvashi walked towards Lilavati with her arms wide open.
“What nonsense you talk whenever you are happy!”, Lila smiled indulgently; placing the lamp on the dressing table she hugged the beautiful young woman who she had seen grow from an innocent baby to a coquettish courtesan.
“Yes, I am happy today!”, Urvashi gathered the old lady in a fierce hug.
Lilavati took Urvashi’s face between her hands and scanned it quizzically.
“What is it? Is it Chandrasena?”, she asked softly.
The pink blush that spread over Urvashi’s cheeks was her answer.
Lilavati’s hand fell to her side and she looked sad.
The sky was under the shade of stars, the moon had not yet risen to its full glory. The twittering of the returning birds filled the incense-filled air with music. They could hear the temple bells signalling the evening aarti.
Urvashi felt the disappointment within Lilavati.
“What is it, Lila? I can feel the sigh within you”, Urvashi urged for an answer.
Lilavati had turned away to look out of the first-floor window to mask her feelings.
“It’s nothing Devi”, sighed Lilavati.
“Your sigh tells me otherwise!”, Urvashi retorted petulantly, “Do you think Chandrasena is not good enough for me?”
“Chandrasena is a brahman”, Lilavati said quietly.
“We do not believe in that system”, Urvashi said sharply, “Chandra left all his Brahminical aspects when he left home to embrace music”.
“You do not, but do they?”, insisted Lilavati.
“Who are they?”, Urvashi’s voice cut through the still air.
“I know love is blind, but you cannot ignore society; that is where you live and earn your living!” Lilavati sadly turned away from the window to look at Urvashi.
The light from the lamp fell on Urvashi’s flushed face and her beauty was enhanced tenfold. The petulance, in her visage did not go unnoticed by Lilavati.
“Look child, your mother is no more; I had promised her that I would look after you; it is my duty to advise you, whether you accept it or not”, Lilavati looked at Urvashi searchingly.
A soft breeze wafted in from somewhere and lifted the soft muslin curtains. The gentle sound of anklet bells permeated the heavy air.
“Devi, Devi”, panted the maid running into the room.
“What is it, Ratna? You are not supposed to come here at this time!”, Lilavati reprimanded the young maid.
“My apologies! I had to come; the Senapati’s men have come to take Devi for a recital in the courthouse”, the maid replied breathlessly.
“What! Today?”, the anger in Urvashi’s voice rang through the room, “I won’t go!”.
Lilavati looked sternly at the maid, “I shall come down and talk with them; come with me; Devi calm down, let me find what all this is about. I shall then come up and you can decide what you have to do”.
Lilavati straightened herself and walked out of the room followed by the fearful maid.
Kumaradatta twirled his luxuriant moustache as his valet draped the angavastra on his shoulder. The evening looked enticing; the soft breeze and the smell of rajanigandha permeated the atmosphere; the sun had set some time ago and the moon was on the rise.
“Maharaj, you seem happy today?”, his valet stated this with a question in his voice.
“Yes, I am; today Urvashi will dance for me….”, Kumaradatta said with a heavy voice.
“But Maharaj…”, the valet stuttered.
“But what!”, the voice of Kumaradatta was filled with anger and power as he turned to look at the cowering man.
“Nothing Raja”, the valet mumbled.
“Speak out loud!”, ordered the ruler of the western province in the Gupta dynasty.
“Sire today is the only day in the year when Urvashi doesn’t dance; she mourns her mother on this day”, the valet offered tentatively.
“Who makes the rules here?”, roared Kumaradatta.
“You my lord”, said the valet trembling.
“Not only will she dance tonight, I will make her mine! Bedeck my bedroom with flowers to greet her”, Kumaradatta’s voice was filled with lust as he plucked a strand of grey from his beard.
“Devi, you have to dance tonight for the Maharaja”, Lilavati entered the room softly and faced Urvashi.
“No I won’t!”, Urvashi said sharply, “Nobody can make me!”.
“They have Chandrasena in custody”, Lilavati said very quietly.
“Is the Senapati threatening me?”, Urvashi screamed with frustration.
“Yes, my dear he is”, Lilavati said, “he is the son of my dear friend, and he hates doing this, but he has no choice”.
Urvashi’s tears washed her kohl-lined eyes, and the streaks of black marred her porcelain skin.
“I have worse news for you”, Lilavati’s voice held a dangerous note.
Urvashi wiped her face and smeared it even more. The tear-filled eyes glistened in the lamplight. She waited mutely for Lilavati to continue.
“His wife has gone to her mother’s house for the birth of their fourth child”, Lilavati paused, “he means you to take her place tonight”.
“No!”, the word shot out like a bullet from the strangled voice.
Urvashi collapsed on the floor, “Oh Chandra! Why didn’t you take me away yesterday?”, she moaned.
“Lila, do something! I cannot be the raja’s mistress; I hate him! The thought of him touching me makes my skin crawl”, Urvashi begged.
Lilavati looked at her helplessly.
“Get me poison! I will kill myself!”, Urvashi sobbed.
“No, you get ready and go to the court”, Lilavati said meditatively, “I will think of something”.
Urvashi looked up with hope in her eyes, “Please put the poison inside my ring; if you fail to save me, I will take it”.
Kumaradatta sat on his throne and looked at the central hall. The whole court was decorated with marigolds and rajanigandha strands. The gold lamps glistened under the hanging lanterns. The pink and green Rangolis adorning various corners of the hall added to the festive mood. There was a gentle murmur amongst the audience.
“How is it that Urvashi is dancing tonight?”, asked someone.
“I heard that Raja is, at last, going to take her”, tittered another.
“What about Chandrasena?”, asked yet another voice.
“What about him? He is just a musician! Our Urvashi knows where her bread and butter comes from!”, sniggered an unknown.
“Look there she comes!”
All heads turned towards the entrance. Framed within the marble pillars stood a vision of loveliness. The green drape with a bright red border made Urvashi look like a bride. Her hair piled upon her head glistened with golden pins and aromatic flowers. Her kohl-lined eyes seemed hooded; the dark circles under them enhanced the porcelain shine of her cheeks. The luscious red lips glistened with anticipation. Flanking her were her musicians. She swayed forward gently yet provocatively and bowed low before the king.
“Rise O’Queen of dancers!”, Kumaradatta roared with power and desire in his voice, “Dance like you have never danced before, because after today, you shall dance only for me!”.
“Oh Lord!”, Urvashi’s sweet voice lilted, “ I need all my musicians before I can dance”.
“You have them O’Apsara, don’t you?”, the king queried.
The bangles jingled as she spread her arms, sweeping her set of accompanists, “Where then is Chandrasena? The most talented of my musicians!”.
“Your musicians?”, asked Kumaradatta arrogantly.
Urvashi looked straight into the Maharaja’s eyes and said, “Yes, my musicians!”.
Kumaradatta’s eyes fell before the force of her voice.
“Senpati!”, his voice roared as if to mask his powerlessness before Urvashi.
“Yes, Your Highness”, Senapati stepped forward from the crowd and bowed low before the king.
“Bring Chandrasena here”, the voice arrogantly ordered.
Lilavati stood supervising the decoration of the king’s bedroom.
“A little more rose petals on this side”, Lilavati ordered the maids, “that strand of flowers has to be moved”
“Do you approve of this?”, asked one maid curiously.
“Of what?”, Lilavati’s feverish eyes bored deep into the unfortunate maid’s eyes.
“This is my Devi’s wedding night! Everything has to be perfect!”, Lilavati’s words were crisp and to the point.
“She is a dancer, how can she marry a king?”, sneered one maid.
“Where is the mandap and the priest?”, asked another.
“Everything is ready in the antechamber, go and see”, Lilavati said complacently.
The court was filled with the sound of melody, the rhythmic beat of the tabla, and the sharp tinkling of ghungroos. Every eye in the hall moved with the feet of Urvashi. Her arms moved, mesmerizing each soul there. Her eyes darted, filled with expression, as she enacted the story of Menaka and Vishwamitra. Chandrasena sang the ballad with soul in the lyrics and captivated the audience with the beauty of his voice.
The night wore on and the lamps burned low. Many in the audience started leaving, not because they were bored but because they were scared of their wives. Urvashi danced on …... Chandrasena sang, and they both looked at each other as if it was their last day on earth.
“Urvashi you may stop!”, thundered the king.
The audience sighed with relief.
“You may all leave,” said the King generously, “Come, Urvashi, the royal chamber awaits you”, he added imperiously.
“Senapati! Arrange for Urvashi to be taken to my palace”, Kumaradatta ordered, his voice heavy with wine and lust.
The sweat running down the side of her face trickled into Urvashi’s cleavage; she looked triumphantly towards Chandrasena. Chandrasena lowered his eyes and started putting his Sitar into its case. Urvashi was escorted by four maids towards the carriage that waited to take her to the palace. The moon had started its descent, the stars twinkled tiredly when Urvashi was lifted sitting in the palanquin.
“This is really my wedding night!”, she thought hysterically.
Supratik, the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The officer supervising the operation turned around and saluted his commander immediately.
“Who do you think is this?”, Supratik asked, “Anyone we know?”
The body was bloated, and the face was unrecognizable. The damp beard and moustache were the only adornment that had survived death and submersion in the river.
“I cannot make out from the face, but the clothes look familiar”, Senapati said this with confidence.
“Looks like that of a musician”, Supratik observed, “Is any musician missing?”
“Yes sir! Chandrasena’s mother reported two days ago that her son was missing”, Senapati said this with confidence.
“Anyway we can corroborate that this is Chandrasena?”, asked Supratik.
“We will call his mother to identify him”, Senapati said smartly.
“Yes, this is Chandrasena!”, sobbed his mother, “this pink coloured birthmark on his thigh is what makes me certain that it is him”
Urvashi sat resplendent in pink, green and gold beside the Maharaja. The petals on the bed had been swept away the night before; the flower strands still hung in shreds over the bed, a mute witness to the nights of passion.
“Isn’t it time that you got up to perform your duties Maharaj?”, Urvashi shook the still sleeping body gently.
“I need a massage after all the acrobatics you made me do last night”, he mumbled.
Urvashi got the warm oil and laved it over the naked thighs and gently massaged it into the skin.
“Oh Maharaj from when have you had this quaint mark on your thighs?”, asked Urvashi.
“from the time I was born”, he said softly, “Only my mother and Senapati know about it”.
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By Benita Patnaik
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