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THE FOLLOWING MORNING, a day of festivities when couples gathered by the water, Madhavi and I went to the river bank. It was an auspicious day, and I had decided to reveal my decision to visit dear Kannagi. Madhavi organised a sumptuous picnic spread under a wide canopied tree and we delighted in mouth-watering savouries and honeyed intoxicants.
After lunch, I lay on Madhavi’s lap and enjoyed a nap. Upon awakening, and feeling light and bright, I broke into spontaneous song. Madhavi wielded the veena.
‘A life-giver,’ I said. Before I could complete what I was about to say, she said,
‘Water. Sing a song about a life-giver, for you are, my lord, my life-giver.’
I thought for a moment and launched a verse that had been teasing me. I said:
‘Rowing his boat down the mighty Kaveri
Sisters Himavathi, Bhavani, and Bedavathi beckon
What new adventures, what new joys from the kavalan.’
To which Madhavi replied:
‘New adventures take him away
Leaving anxiety waiting lonely
Why idles the queen, descended from the Supreme?’
Impressed, I responded:
‘The poorer seek new pastures
The blessed find it all in one field
Former rolls the dice, latter remains on firm ground.’
I folded my arms and awaited her response, but her words shocked me.
‘The Kaveri strains against her banks
She too wishes to breach her confines
Find new husbands to make happy.’
I went silent and considered her words. She broke into a teasing titter, thinking she had caught me, rendering me unable to propose a proper poem. Her glee added ghee to the flame. She continued to challenge. Growing vexed, I hurled my reply.
‘She who worships all, worships none
For what worth a known price on one
Wavering loyalty to the highest bidder for mere coin.’
Madhavi, unaware of my growing anger, laughed, and responded.
‘As usual, you prevail
But be warned, the next time
I will not let you off so easily.’
I turned dark and moody but Madhavi did not notice, for lovers of her art, men of wealth and repute, came over to join us under the tree. The men, careful to bring their wives along, rested their eyes firmly on Madhavi.
Unable to bear the situation any further, I sprang to my feet and announced my tiredness and, without waiting for her reply, strode off.
My man-servant ran after me. He held up the parasol against the sun, and when I boarded the carriage, he asked, ‘Should I fetch Devi Amah, sir?’
I turned to the tree, under which lately I had sat with Madhavi, to find her surrounded by an eager audience.
Seeing how she had given herself over to the adulation of her admirers, I ignored the man’s question and instead ordered the driver, ‘Take me home, and be quick about it.’
The driver flicked his reins and, with a small jerk, the carriage started to roll away. My man-servant, who was standing on the floorboard behind my seat, had looked back, for he cried,
‘Sir, I see Devi Amah waving anxiously, and now she shouts, though I discern not her words. Should we turn back?’
Sensing the driver rein the horses a little, I said, ‘Drive on!’
The man snapped the reins and clicked his tongue, and the horses shifted to a fast canter.
Considering the good news that I wished to share with her regarding my planned visit to Kannagi, a matter Madhavi had proclaimed to be of great import, my outrage magnified many times. Pride and anger are the twins that bring down even the mighty, say the sages. But her callous behaviour justified my anger. My fury.
On sandaled feet, I strode into the house, and when the servants gasped at this great affront to the gods of the household, I kicked off my dusty leathers. I headed for the staircase, discarding my turban and ripping off my golden shawl as I went, and hurried up to the bedroom.
Many confused and angry thoughts continued to gloat at my weakness and goad my anger. I had had enough of being a kept man. And as for her beauty and promises of pleasure, and the deep abiding jealousies in the pit of my stomach—I will quench all the pain in one sweep, endure the first few days of terrible anguish, and free myself from her hold. She could find another, for the nymph she was, and would waste herself even as men nourished her need for adulation.
As I sat smouldering on the bed, Madhavi hurried in with Vasantha-Mala at her heels. The hand-maiden placed a basin of water and towels on a table and with clasped hands and bowed head, stepped back and out of the room. Madhavi, who had picked up my dishevelled turban and shawl, folded and placed them on the divan.
‘You left without informing, my lord, but my friends detained me and I took some time to excuse myself from their company, after which I directly hurried home. I should have known the hot day to be quite enervating. Let me undress and wipe you down with cool scented water. Once refreshed, you’ll feel better.’
She moved towards the bed but I raised my hand and stopped her.
‘How silly of me, for you must be thirsty.’ She poured a drink. ‘Fresh lemon juice with honey to sweeten the bite, as you like it.’ She held out the drink, but I ignored her. Replacing the cup on the table, she positioned herself beside me and said,
‘Here, let me knead away your stress, for your frame stands sharp and with shoulders raised.’
‘Who gave you permission to sit?’
‘I did not know I needed permission to sit in my house.’ She spoke in a soft voice.
‘Your house? You have drawn the line I see.’
I was looking for an opening, even a petty opportunity to start a quarrel. Perhaps if anger took a better hold of me, it would provoke impulse, if not the courage, to walk out.
‘My lord, I don’t know what ails you but if it’s something I’ve said or done, I beg your forgiveness, whatever it might be, small or large. But please, do not take offence and render this auspicious evening dull.’ She rose and stood before me and offered the drink.
‘Even before you know the error, you apologise. Is your sincerity worthy of trust?’
‘Then, pray, share with me that which vexes you, so to make correct amends as best as I can. But please do not treat me as a stranger, for it breaks my heart.’
‘What was the meaning of your song?’
‘What song, my lord, for we sang many today and gave ourselves over to much joy.’
‘The last song, the last verse.’
‘I only vaguely recall, as it was spontaneous and made no lasting impression. Perhaps if you could sing your lines, they might trigger my memory and the words to ensue.’
‘You wish to play? So be it, here it is then:
‘Rowing his boat down the mighty Kaveri
Sisters Himavathi, Bhavani, and Bedavathi beckon
What new adventures, what new joys from the kavalan.’
‘Yes, now I recall, and your meaning, my lord?’ she asked.
‘As protector and provider, he adventures down the Kaveri and explores her tributaries, Himavathi, Bhavani, and Bedavathi. He braves dangers and rejoices in bringing home new treasures for his queen. That was my meaning.’
‘A lovely theme, my lord, and with deep meanings for man and woman. I recall now my response,’ said Madhavi.
‘Speak it then.’
To which she replied:
‘New adventures take him away
Leaving anxiety waiting lonely
Why idles the queen, descended from the Supreme?’
‘Your meaning?’ I demanded.
‘I sang in praise of Our Supreme Being Parasakthi, Mother of the Holy Trinity, and I asked Her, Mother to all, man, woman and child, but why is her daughter confined to hearth and home, when in the days of antiquity she was an equal to all? Why not let her share the dangers with her kavalan, her dear lover? This was my intent. Is there anything wrong, my lord, in my words or intentions?’
‘Let me continue with what I then sang, and it will reveal you,’ I said.
‘The poorer seek new pastures
The blessed find it all in one field
Former rolls the dice, latter remains on firm ground.
‘And by this, I meant the kavalan has to tempt danger, perhaps because he lacks blessings, for how else can he provide for his queen.’
‘Truly spoken, my lord,’ said Madhavi, ‘and I see no cause for annoyance thus far in what you sang or in my response.’
‘Thus far, you are right, but continue in its wake.’
‘As you wish, my lord,’ and so saying, Madhavi continued.
‘The Kaveri strains against her banks
She too wishes to breach her confines
Find new husbands to make happy.’
‘You have deviated here, Devi, in flow and theme. Explain your words and realise your dark intentions.’
‘By overflowing her banks,’ said Madhavi, ‘Kaveri wishes to make fertile new lands, and with new rich harvests many more households will rejoice in plenty. This was what I meant, my lord, and I don’t see errors in my words or intent.’
‘Really? Can it not also mean Kaveri wishes to deviate from her chaste path and consort with new husbands?’
‘Oh god, but that was not what I meant, my lord, but even if I did, what of it?’ said Madhavi, and defiance lurked in her tone. ‘In the days of yore, was it not the norm? And even now, a union between man and woman is a carriage, is it not, which needs at the least two wheels and of equal diameters. If one were humbler in girth, even with all the couple’s best efforts, they travel in circles.’
‘You think you are equal to your man?’
‘I know I’m equal,’ replied the devadasi.
‘My wedded wife, Kannagi, a chaste woman, thinks not and behaves not so, for even when she walks, she drops three paces behind so as not to even step on my shadow.’
‘And I have much to learn from her,’ said Madhavi, unwilling to yield, ‘younger as I am, to remain your shadow and enjoy your misplaced steps.’
We fell into a heavy silence. It was only at this stage that some sense seemed to have crept into her, for she quickened to make amends.
‘But let us not pursue this discourse, my lord, for I fear the path augurs not well ahead, and even if you discover pebbles where I meant pearls, please treat my turn of words as a tease, as you know how guilty I am in spontaneous humour.’
‘Humour? You, versed in the classics, do not see that what you propose contradicts our culture, our values, our chaste morality?’
‘Oh, my dear lord, truly you’re poor in humour,’ said Madhavi, and she laughed, making light of the matter. But to my ears her laughter was not an innocent sound but one of derision. And my suspicions multiplied tenfold when I heard her next words.
‘But open in our deepest intimacies and frank in our long discourses, as we’ve always been towards one another, my lord, you must agree men exercise two sets of moral codes: one for women and one for men. Women, as the mighty Kaveri, should not break her banks but men are free to explore her sisters, Himavathi, Bhavani, and Bedavathi. Society accuses the former for losing her chastity but fetes the latter his conquests. And here you are, consorting with me, and we are truly both chaste.’
‘Indeed, here I am, as you say, consorting with you, Devi, and we are both chaste.’
I took the drink and Madhavi, pleased, in one smooth motion regained her spot next to me. She placed a soft hand on my shoulder, and I felt not a shiver of excitement but only revulsion.
I regained my composure for, my decision already made, it would not be decorous to exchange more harsh words. She had insulted our relationship and questioned my morality. After all, she was a devadasi. Her ilk was ostentatious in their dedication to temple service but danced in the public eye for all to leer; and surreptitious in service to their gurus, and also allowed into their sanctums any man who contributed coin.
‘Are you feeling better, my lord?’
‘You have satisfied my curiosity.’
I rewarded her with a brief emotionless smile and stood up, not only to escape her touch but also to hide my face from her scrutiny. Trained like all women of her ilk, she could read a man’s intentions from a mere twitch of a muscle.
‘Madhavi,’ I said, making my voice soft, ‘you have often beseeched me to visit my chaste wife, Kannagi, a matter I had wished to discuss earlier and only now found the opportunity. Do you continue to embrace this wish, that I visit my flawless wife, Kannagi?’
‘How delightful, and yes, my lord, and with the impending birth of our child, she is very welcome to join in our joy.’
‘Yes, those were my exact intentions and I shall directly make haste to visit that peerless person, my wedded wife, Kannagi.’
‘Now, this very night? But why the haste, my lord, for would it not bode better to rest and recover, and make your vital visit under a gloriously bright sunlight? To call on her under the veil of the night, would it not diminish the significance of this welcomed event?’
‘It is an auspicious day, Madhavi, and I should cross the threshold there before the sun hides and extinguishes all that is good of today.’
I turned to her. A mistake, for she right away read the intentions lurking behind my eyes.
‘I too cannot bear being separated from my dear elder sister, Kannagi,’ she said, and held my arm, her grip tight and possessive. ‘But the suddenness of your errand troubles me, my lord. Please, rest the night and after the morning ablutions, take the holy kumkuma from our altar and smear it on her forehead and escort her back with all proper rites and respects.’
‘Madhavi, I have been fair to you, treated you well and, unlike most men who shackle their women, I have not put you in a gilded cage. I have given you the freedom, free as the bird to return to the perch as and when you wish to, have I not?’
‘Yes, my lord, in this and many other aspects, you have gone against the grain, but, though your tone is soft, your words are daggers with twin edges.’
‘Would you have me chained, Madhavi?’
‘Only with my love, my lord, and why again Madhavi, what became of Devi?’
‘Would you have me chained?’ I persisted, intent she answers to my satisfaction and not lead with her questions.
‘No, my lord, never.’
‘Good, and shackle your hesitation, especially since you have often chided me for not visiting my dear blemish-free wife, Kannagi. I need to go to my wife and see how she fares and attend to her comforts, for I have neglected her more than any decency allows.’
‘Your words are correct, my lord, but do not go just yet to steal a visit, as though you were a thief. There is only a fingernail sliver of a moon for guidance and even that under the gloom of a foggy night.’
‘Steal a visit, you say?’ I snatched my arm free of her hold. ‘Is my wife some devadasi to receive nameless men in the stealth of the night? How dare you, a woman of known value?’
‘Oh god, why do you speak so harshly? You know that’s not what I meant.’
‘Enough!’ I raised my hand. ‘My heart is set, woman, and if you now dread my departure, is it because you fear the bonds of your love not strong? Who waits in the shadows you fear your heart will invite, to steal a visit as some thief, when I am gone?’
‘Oh, god! How can you speak such words to me? You’re the only god I’ve had sight of, my lord. There is no one, no lurking shadow.’
‘Enough! Wish me well then, and speak no more, for from your own reckoning there is no alarm, am I not right? Goodbye, Madhavi. I go now and there is no need for rest or sleep, for I am invigorated and awake.’
I moved to the door with Madhavi hurrying behind. I picked up my pace but she, a well-trained dancer, matched my steps with ease. As we went down the stairs, she spewed much but I did not care to hear her words, for they were water falling off feathers; and this dove would spread its wings and be free again. By the time we reached the threshold, the servants had appeared at windows and doorways to bear silent witness.
Madhavi dropped to the floor and grabbed my sandaled feet. She was crying, a scene I had sought to avoid.
‘I fear, my lord, you’ve decided to exclude me from your life. Please, I beg you, take me with you. All I need is a place at your feet and that is enough wet love for my heart.’
‘The wet love you feel now, Madhavi, is only vapid blood weeping from a vented neck long after the heart had stopped thumping.’
‘Don’t discard me, my lord.’
‘If you are a chaste woman as you claim to be, do not cross the threshold and sully my pure wife Kannagi’s house, for that is a holy abode.’
Then, as she clung to my feet, I wriggled out of my sandals, leaving them in her hands, and stepped out and onto the free sands of fate. Behind me, the wretched woman’s wails pierced the night. Whereas a day earlier, a sniff from her would have ruined my day, now, I felt nothing.
I had finally broken from her hold. I was free to return to my dear Kannagi. Free! I breathed deep and exhaled. The air was brisk and sweet.
As I calmed, a new fear gripped my chest. Kannagi. My dear Kannagi. Oh god! Will she take me back?
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