Abhaya, page 25
“Don’t worry about me. Your disappearance will make it easier for me to achieve what I want to.” Abhaya assured them, showing the way towards the gate. “Hurry now, I beg of you before it is too late.”
Abhaya unlocked the door that led to the passage and saw the girls descend to the hidden stairway which was thought to be broken. The moonlight, she hoped, could help the girls find their way down safely. She placed the key behind a marked stone as instructed by Mura, who planned to take it back when he went on his pre-dawn rounds.
Mura would be surprised to find that she had not gone herself and had instead helped the other five women escape. Walking back to her room, Abhaya fought the urge to turn back and follow the other girls. She had to stay back. She had to make Dhatri realise the wrong that was happening in the name of religion. The details that Mura had shared about Dhatri churned in her mind. She could not bring herself to leave Kamarupa without convincing Dhatri to give up her hatred of the Aryas, fuelled by Bhauma’s manipulative ambition. There were moments in the long night where she felt deserted by her confidence and she could not come up with a further course of action. Given her irreverent behaviour from the day she had arrived at Kamarupa, Abhaya knew she would naturally be suspected of having played a part in her roommates’ disappearance. But, in her heart, she felt a strange sense of determination overcome her restlessness. Then, all of a sudden, she felt a presence hover around her. She could see or hear nothing. But as an unusual breeze brushed over her, she felt the tug from within her heart. It felt like some invisible force had reached out to soothe her. Her eyes closed and a form manifested in her consciousness, though in a blur. Her lips curved into a beatific smile.
“Should I believe that you had nothing to do with their disappearance?” Dhatri’s eyes pierced hers. The sun’s rays from the eastern windows bathed her face in a crimson hue. Though her face showed no emotion and her voice remained placid, the light had the effect of making her look as though she were anger personified.
Abhaya smiled, refusing to raise herself to a sitting position. Stretching herself and fighting a yawn, she chuckled. “You should perhaps believe that it was the will of the Supreme Goddess … Mahayogini.” She added a deliberate pause to irk Dhatri.
“Yuvati,” Dhatri cautioned with no apparent change in her tone. “I tolerate your irreverence only because I find your frankness endearing. If you only knew what you have just done by helping those women go.” Dhatri walked up the cot and Abhaya felt compelled to get up but she remained seated holding on to the edge of her stone cot. “Tell me who helped them. It could not have happened without your knowledge.”
“Would you believe that I would let go of an opportunity to leave?” Abhaya replied, looking directly into Dhatri’s eye. A lump formed in her throat as she remembered Mura’s words. She estimated that Kanakangi and the other girls would have crossed over to the settlements of Pragjyotisha by now. If fate favoured them, the news of the abductions and the fact that Bhauma of Kamarupa was behind them would start reaching the rulers of their respective kingdoms in a few days. It was then bound to reach Indraprastha and Krishna. Abhaya took a deep breath and rose to her feet. “If my frankness has indeed endeared me to you, Devi, then take my frank advice. Stop these attempts to abduct women from the plains. Stop the brainwashing going on here in the name of some Supreme Goddess whose existence is questionable. Stop giving in to greed for power in the name of religion.”
“Reason is apparently not the language you understand, Yuvati. Tell me at once where the women are headed to!” Dhatri admonished. “Let me not resort to using…”
“…force.” Abhaya completed the sentence. “Dhatri, do you think threats would make me change my mind? Listen to me, Devi. What is being done here is a heinous fraud in the name of that rock you call the Supreme Goddess. You, Dhatri, are not the chosen medium of any Goddess nor can you cure anyone’s illness at will. The women discovered your fraud and left. Yes, I stayed back only to convince you to stop this adharma. Stop being a puppet in the hands of that Bhauma. Let every woman here return to her rightful home in the plains of Bharata. Devi, you return to yours, too. Go back home.”
Abhaya stopped as a shadow fell across the room. Her hand went to the scimitar she had placed by her bedside when she saw the figure standing in the doorway.
“Didn’t I tell you to not tolerate this one anymore? Leave her to me, Mahadevi,” Bhauma said, glaring at Abhaya.
“Yes, leave me to him. And I shall teach him a lesson or two about how women should be treated. Let this end today, Bhauma—the fraud, the murders and who knows what else in the name of this Supreme Goddess? Rapes? I shall end it today!”
Bhauma did not need any more provocation to step forward. He was about to unsheathe his sword when Dhatri turned and stopped him by the arm.
For the first time in many years, Bhauma saw a forbidding glare on Dhatri’s face. She rarely wielded authority over him.
“Force is what she would like us to use, Bhauma,” she spoke, her lips curving at the end. “She provokes us to resort to force because that would destroy our steadfastness to the order of the Shaktas.” In the moment of silence that followed, Bhauma saw the tinge of rebuke that flashed in her eyes at his disregarding the obvious. Dhatri then turned to Abhaya whose smile continued to defy her. “Enjoy the last days of your delusion, Yuvati. What you did shall come back to haunt you.”
The words slipped from Dhatri’s lips with emphasised pauses. An unearthly resolve flashed in her eyes. Abhaya threw her head high, refusing to give in. But in her heart of hearts, something about Dhatri’s words unsettled her.
Dhatri turned around and stormed out, briefly halting for Bhauma to join her. To her dismay, she heard Bhauma lock the door from outside. That would mean that he would be able to enter the room whenever he wanted. Abhaya’s lips parted in protest. Then, to her relief, through the window, she saw Dhatri hold out her hand. Bhauma reluctantly put the key in her palm. Dhatri threw back the key to Abhaya through the carve hold in the door. Her parting glance warned Abhaya of something to come.
The knocking at the door made Abhaya look up. Her solitary confinement in the past couple of weeks had done little to break her will. Dhatri had, in the initial week, tried to ask her about the details of where the women lived. Abhaya chose to remain tight-lipped and sought to reason with Dhatri to give up the idea of pursuing the women. She could see Dhatri seething with an unknown rage at something Abhaya could not guess at.
“You shall reach a state where you cannot forgive yourself!” Dhatri had thundered before she left and she had not returned after that.
With her repeated calls to reason with Dhatri going unheeded, Abhaya’s confidence had started to weaken. When she saw Dhatri at the door after more than a fortnight, relief washed over her.
Dhatri gripped her hand in an iron grip. The cold stare in the older woman’s eyes quelled any defiance that Abhaya could muster. Before she could wonder why, Abhaya found herself shoved to the front section of the passage that surrounded the inner fortress.
“Kanakangi!” Abhaya gasped at what remained of the girl from Pundra. The purple-hued body lay motionless on the floor.
“Poison,” Dhatri muttered and looked at the guard.
“Her family had put her in solitary confinement. A week before, they discarded her in this state.”
“Why did you let us out at all?” What started as a shout petered to a whisper.
Abhaya whirled to stare at one of the women who had escaped along with Kanakangi.
“She is the only one left alive of the five girls whom you so graciously helped ‘escape’ the week before,” Dhatri said. “The rest were given a ‘glorious farewell’ to their afterlife by your esteemed civilisation … forgive me … what was it you had said? The civilisation that believes in universal wellness.”
Abhaya felt something crumble within her as the truth dawned on her. Her legs seemed to desert her and she fell to her knees. The heart seemed to have come to a standstill.
“I knew this would happen. Had you told us what you knew about their homes and where they came from, our soldiers could have tracked them and saved them before this.” Dhatri’s hoarse voice pierced her ears.
“Who helped you in letting them escape?”
Abhaya sensed Mura’s presence and consciously avoided looking in his direction. She said nothing.
Bhauma pulled her up with a violent jerk and she put up no defence. Dhatri’s hand restrained him and she ordered her to be locked back in the room.
Three days later, Dhatri’s concerns increased when the female guards told her about the untouched food in Abhaya’s room. When she went to convince Abhaya to not give up food, she saw a different Abhaya from what she had expected. In the darkness of her room, Abhaya’s eyes flashed with renewed determination. Dhatri had expected that the death of the women would break her resolve but Abhaya continued to maintain a stoic defiance.
“I think we should let her go back home,” Dhatri confided in Bhauma after another unsuccessful conversation with Abhaya. “She is not prepared to accept our ways. Neither is she willing to forgive herself for what happened. If she dies of starvation, it would not bode well for Kamarupa.”
“No!” Bhauma exclaimed. “The conditions in the plains have changed a lot, Mahayogini. Our patron king of Magadha was treacherously killed. His enemies are consolidating power. If this girl is set free and she tells them about our efforts to spread Shaktism, it would be the end of Kamarupa! They may come after all these women. An excuse is all they want to tear down this place. We can’t let that happen!”
“What happened to your faith in the Supreme Goddess, Bhauma?”
“It is stronger than ever,” Bhauma muttered, his lips barely parting. “The plains below are witnessing the churn. Our Shaktas should be able to accrue more power in this period. We shall emerge stronger.”
Dhatri shook her head. “It was unwise to engage anymore in that spy strategy. I don’t think we ever had the approval of Goddess Kamaksha.”
“Dhatri?” Bhauma stared at her.
“No, Bhauma, you were the one who was inclined to go ahead. Your words played in my mind. It was never the signal from the Goddess. I don’t know if she ever spoke to me or through me or I kept fantasising and deceiving myself and you.”
Bhauma’s further arguments were of no avail. He had to be content with Dhatri agreeing to not let Abhaya leave Kamarupa. Bhauma felt sure that her escape would alert some king or the other. The traditional methods of impressing gullible Arya women had failed with Abhaya. Her continued defiance could spell doom for Kamarupa. Bhauma now hated the very sight of the girl. Her very presence seemed to drive a wedge between him and Dhatri, a relationship he had carefully nurtured for years. He could not let everything he had planned come to nothing just because of one girl from the plains.
Chapter Forty-Two
When the door closed behind her, Abhaya did not even move to take the key that was thrown back to her. Safety was not something that mattered to her anymore. Her faith in everything she had learnt since childhood had crumbled into pieces. Kanakangi’s face haunted her. Dhatri’s sneer pierced her soul.
“Is this what the civilisation of the Aryas has come to? What is left to save of Bharatavarsha when the lives of innocents are no longer valued?” she sobbed out.
The death of the four women was a brutal betrayal of everything Abhaya believed in. The pain rent her soul apart. Rage, helplessness and despair danced in furious unison in her mind.
“Does this world merit sustenance any longer?!”
Her fist struck the stone wall. The physical pain was no match for the turmoil within her. The three days of self-imposed starvation was telling on her strength but food failed to interest her.
Dhatri’s softened stance and entreaties were of no avail. The mahayogini had misjudged Abhaya’s state of mind for guilt. Abhaya was far from feeling guilty. Her conscience was clear. She had done no wrong in helping the girls. It was Kamarupa and the families of the women who had to bear the burden of guilt. As for civilisation, everything she had learned was an ironic myth fit only to be mocked at by reality. Every destructive event in history, she felt, was to be applauded, for mankind deserved only destruction.
“What is stopping Mahakala from ending this undeserving world?!” In the quiet that greeted her screams, Abhaya could see apparitions of every wronged soul she knew and many she did not know. “Why should I bother? Mahakala does not exist, nor does any deity that preserves the universe. There are no gods. If they existed, this would not happen!”
Sleep came at irregular intervals. Dreams alternated between visions of her dear ones trying to console her and others condemning her for her actions.
“Did you teach me untrue folklores in the name of history?” she blurted out as she saw Dharmasena smiling down at her.
“History had its glorious side and a horrendous one, too. The present also has them. Which side are you on, Vatse?”
“Where is the glorious side? It is just a mirage!”
“How is one sure of something being a mirage unless they believe in life-sustaining water, Vatse? The glorious side exists but perhaps not where you are looking for it.”
“Janaka!” The face faded away when she extended her hand to touch it. Abhaya’s eyes opened. It was dark. “Where am I looking for the ‘water’?”
Breaking the odd silence of the night, Abhaya heard someone sing.
Dweller of every heart, O Hari
Ruler of every heart, O Hari
Abhaya reached out for a jug filled with water and splashed some on her face. This was not a dream. The voice of the singer came closer.
The one in the peaks of piety
The one content in impiety
The one praying in anxiety
The one lost in ambiguity
Ruler of every heart, O Hari
Dweller in every heart, O Hari
The song was familiar. Abhaya rushed towards the door. The door gave way. The guards forgot to lock the door? She stepped out into the passage and found herself face to face with the singer.
“Aren’t you from Kashi?’ she exclaimed, remembering him from the ashrama at Kashi.
“I am from nowhere,” he replied. The moon came out of the cloud cover. Abhaya saw his smile. As in Kashi, he was attired in the same faded lower garment and carried the same musical instrument. “Kashi is as much mine as is Kamarupa. I wander everywhere.”
“Are you a mirage too?”
“A mirage is a function of fantasy, Devi. Truth, on the other hand, never disappoints.” He looked at her. “If one can accept it.”
“The truth I learnt disappointed me, Arya,” Abhaya protested. “What I had believed as truth has become a mirage, a fantasy, today. The truth is the brutality of this world and the apathy of gods if they even exist.”
The singer raised his brows. He stepped towards the room. “Why is the world brutal?”
“That is its nature, probably.” Abhaya’s jaw tightened as she led him inside.
“Are you brutal?” he laughed.
“Now, I certainly have the mind to be!”
“Now. You say ‘now’, which means you think you were not brutal till now.” He smiled. Silvery moonlight flooded into the room and Abhaya saw his locks flutter in the breeze that blew into the room. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it wordlessly. “You have the mind to become brutal because of something. Else, you would choose not to be so.”
“Because of the killings of innocents, Arya. Just because they chose to explore a faith that is not acceptable to the world of Aryas.”
“How can someone kill an innocent and still remain an Arya, Devi?”
“The definition of being Arya is only debated by a few like you. The reality is different. The meaning of the word Arya seems to be plummeting to a depth where life carries no value.”
“What would you do, Abhaya?”
His use of her name startled her for a moment. But then she reasoned it was not an impossibility that he had found out from Atulyaprabha at Kashi.
“What are the choices that you and I have to change all this? Do we want to change it at all or do we let peril take over the world?”
In her anger, Abhaya would have agreed to let peril take over but something tugged at her heart. Visions of the past flashed before her.
In situations forcing you to choose between life and death, will you choose life over death…?
Krishna!
She remembered her promise. She also remembered the promise to reach out to him.
“Arya! Do me a favour! Carry my message to someone who could be our only choice!”
His head tilted and a smile bloomed on his lips. “Carrying messages. That makes me feel as important as … never mind, tell me.”
Krishna Vaasudeva
I side with life over death, with hope over despair. I see hope in you. The temple of Kamaksha, the high seat of Shakti, is now the house of a wayward religion. This religion believes not in the union of the human spirit with the Supreme but in uprooting the basis of what we consider eternal. Women are being abducted and brainwashed to spread this religion, spy on kingdoms and entrench this wayward cult. The social foundation of the Aryas is in danger.
How I wish I could defend the Aryas! How I wish the world of Aryas did not give in to this onslaught! But wishes remain wishes, Krishna. We are headed towards an internal peril if not the one posed by the Shaktas. If Aryas kill, abandon and castigate their women only for exploring a different religion, how do we defend our world? I promised to reach out to you when things get out of my hands. I am reaching out to you. Not one, but two challenges await us.
We have the choice to act and the choice to ignore. I know what you would choose and you know what I would. Come Vaasudeva, your cause awaits you. Dhaarmaseni awaits you, in hope, in faith.
Her head leaned against the stone bed and her eyes closed in fatigue. When she opened them again, Abhaya did not find the messenger.
