Rudra Palace, GAJAṆIKĀ

The assembly hall of Rudra Palace filled with the jam packed audience to celebrate the coronation ceremony of the former prince of Gajaṇikā and now, the king, Rajyavardhan. Whole chamber lit up with the thousands of fire lamps, serving a clear picture of every entity present in the room. The intricate bewitching floral patterns carved on the pillars, walls and roof shimmered into the golden glow of diyās.

"...hari-jaya vijayi bhava! Nanda-kumāra!

Vraja-jana-parmānanda-kiśōra!

Kāliya-naṭanānda-gaṁbhīra!

Karuṇārasa-yuta-bhāva-śarīra!

The king, along with his queen in left, seated on the throne whereas the family members sat on the either side of him, few steps below. His court members, other relatives and guests sat on the chairs in the open rooms, around the giant rangolī stage. Different sections were made for both man and women to sit. The men servant stood near the pillars, fulfilling the demands of royals.

The skilled Devadasi's danced in their traditional dance forms on the ragā's and tunes of musicians, who sat on the huge wooden stool with their instruments in their hands or lap.

"mada-madhukara-madhupa-tarala-sama

nayana-kamaladala-calana

muni-hr̥dayam-api cōra-cātura!

dayākara! murādi bhīkara!"

The hall rumbled with the huge applauds as the fifth dance performance of the night ended.

"Samrāt, the next performance will be presented by the Devadāsi's of Anganagram." Mantrī announced and sat back in his chair.

The performance started, but the King's gaze remained at a particular group of people. The men in the lane gave their nervous smile to the king and murmured something to their partners.

The continuous stare of the king of Gajanikā and Dewāl made the Senāpati of Dewāl shift in his chair uncomfortably. He looked at his king who gestured him to look towards left.

He recurved his neck to left and clenched teeth at the sight of his sleeping brother, who had his mouth open. He pulled out his carve knife and threw it towards his brother, who caught it with closed eyes.

"What Bhaiya? Do we need to teach the Senāpati of Dewāl also not to attack an unarmed man?" Manik, the Mahārathi in the army of Dewāl and brother of Dewāl's senapati, grumbled, lying in the chair with his closed eyes amidst the celebration.

"Duffer, wake up. Our king is staring at us." Kushāgra, Manik's elder brother, seethed at Manik who shifted to lay down more comfortably but later moved to sit just behind his brother, who was ready to burn him with his volcanic eyes.

"I told you, I didn't want to attend today's celebration still you forced me." Manik blamed his brother for forcing him to attend tonight's gala even though he found out an awesome plan to escape this.

"Why should I suffer alone? You being my brother deserve to suffer with me." Kushāgra could not refuse king's order because he was the Senāpatī of Dewāl, but Manik could at least make up excuse and rest somewhere alone.

A part of army of Dewāl was sent to the East Dewāl to ease the ludicrous attempts of invaders. It took more than twenty-five days to settle down the matter and reform the destroyed villages and its sources. When the whole army was ready to depart from there, King ordered them to accompany the royal family in Gajanikā which led them being frustrated as they didn't rest even for a blink.

"You just watch, how I escape this?" Manik challenged his brother and gestured to a servant.

"Manik, sit at your place." Kushāgra warned him with eyes. Meanwhile, Manik instructed the servant, and he went away with his message to the King of Dewāl.

"Why are you getting boar? You'll never get to witness such fascinating dancers dancing for you." The man beside him chimed while watching the performance. Manik scanned the man from tip to toe who just gave him the worthless knowledge.

"Are you married?" The man's ogling stare at the dancers forced Manik to ask about his marital status because in no way a married man should look at another woman in the way, he was looking.

"What do you mean?" The man growled and lanced a glare at him, attempting to make him fear with austere glare.

"What I mean is-" Manik circulated his pointer finger in the air,"About the sinful gazes at the Devdasi's."

"How dare you!" The man shouted. "Who are you to question my morals?" He clenched his teeth, tightening his fists. "Moreover, who doesn't look at Devdasi's when they dance? They are beautiful, so it's obvious people will look at them."

"There is a difference between an admirable gaze and a lustful one." Manik stated, circling the tip of his brother's carve knife on his palm.

"Give me respect. I'm older than you." Manik gave out a little laugh at the man's illogical statement.

In the meantime, the messenger came back and told the response of the King. Manik stood up and offered his pranām to the King, who nodded his head permitting him. Manik, before moving away, took a glance at the man who sat with curled fists. He crouched down to pick up his brother's knife. The man shifted backward in his chair, uncomfortable at the sight of the shiny tip of the knife. He dragged his neck backward when Manik picked it up.

"I think, you being my elder should bless me. Shouldn't you?" The man stared at him, puckering his nose. Their hushed whispers were only audible and visible to themselves because they were sitting behind the pillar.

"Every gaze-" Manik peered into the man's eyes who seemed hypnotized at his words."-towards an another woman is lustful...especially when you are already committed." Manik stated in his taut voice and patted the man's thigh before standing.

"Hemant," Manik called his friend and walked out of the hall from the sideways.

The man sat frozen as if Yamrāj, himself, made him aware of his deeds.

"Remember it, okay." The man flinched as Hemant shingled near his ear. "Pranām, Dādāji." Hemant teased the 52-year-old man then folded his lips and walked out whistling.

"Have an eye on him. Do not hesitate to chop off his head if anything happens." Hemant heard Manik giving instructions to one of the soldiers.

"Do we personally know them?" Manik arched his brows at Hemant's question.

"The girl was too young." Hemant nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Well," Manik clicked his tongue. "Stop talking to me. I'm already pissed." He exclaimed and rushed outside.

"Why on earth, he is getting angry on me, because he didn't get to meet her." Hemant looked to the roof, as if complaining to the God.

"This is all that stupid King's fault." Hemant screeched then wandered his eyes to all directions, checking if anyone was around or not. He heaved a sigh of relief upon not witnessing anyone around himself then walked away to sleep in the room as going behind Manik, was completely useless.

Because this time he was not only angry, but annoyed, irritated, and raze-filled too. He already met his father as he was accompanying the King, but he missed his family, his one little, and an another giant girl, whom he loves from the core of his heart. The longing was killing him, and the desire to get a glance of her was slicing his heart bit by bit.

He blinked his eyes to the crescent moon that appeared behind the clouds. The whitish bars and shadows of the moonlight illuminated his fine-featured, yet frustrated face as he stood on the roof of the palace, taking in into the stillness of the night. The ends of his ebony hair danced into the cool breeze of the delightful night. His hands clutched behind back and foot rested on the arm-high wall.

"Hope it doesn't rain tomorrow." Manik prayed, looking at the sky as few wisps of grey clouds covered the dimly shining moon.

His lips parted and eyes shined at the sight of his messenger bird. "Did you see her?" Manik beamed as soon as the bird rested its leg on his knee. The bird nodded while dabbing on Manik's thigh, thinking the fabric of his dhoti edible.

"You are just so lucky, even more than me." Manik gripped him and nuzzled in his beak, being happy at the conformation.

"Let's make my Advait eat something." Manik ruffled Advait's tiny feathers and ordered a near by servant to get some grains for his pigeon.

"Seems you bathed in the rain." Manik complimented Advait's neat appearance and stroked his head with his two fingers. Advait opened both of his wings and twirled on his legs, flaunting his spotless body which made Manik laugh as Advait seek for more complements.

"Attention seeker." Manik smacked Advait's head and laughed at him. "Shhh," He winced as Advait bit on his finger, taking revenge on his master.

"Such an-" Manik was about to smack his head again but withdrew as blood oozed out on his finger.

"Such an untamed bird you are!" Manik said and pressed his finger on the stone wall while Advait flew into the sky.

"Mahārathi," A servant handed him a bowl of multiple grains. He nodded and called Advait who has flown into the sky.

"Advait, come." Manik called his pigeon thrice who seemed to swore not to move from his place.

"Maybe he is looking at the view of fair." The servant stated, watching Advait moving his feathers on a particular place.

"Fair?" Manik arched his brow at the servant, indicating him to describe more.

"Every year in Gajaṇikā, the fair of Ashwin month is organised. Many vendors, singers, dancers, magicians, and theatrical artists present themselves in the fair. Including the Devdasi's of Aṅganagram and designers of Ratnagirī." As Aṅganagram was famous for their singing and dancing qualities; Ratnagiri was prominent for its exquisite designs of clothes, shoes, toys, and severe other accessories.

"Did you go there?" Manik questioned to the servant.

"We were already busy with the preparations, so couldn't make time for it. You should definitely visit, at least once." Manik nodded, looking at the hazy appearance of the fair.

"Bābā, you told me. You'll take me to the fair today still you didn't. The fair will end in three days and you..." A little girl of 6-year-old stopped in the midway as she spotted her father engaged with a royal.

"Sorry," The girl mumbled and turned to walk away.

"Stop," The girl flinched at Manik's hard tone; a sob escaped her fearful mouth. She turned with glossy eyes and glanced at her father, whose face was laced in worry.

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me." She pleaded, staring at the floor. "I did not mean to interrupt." She walked backward as Manik advanced in her direction.

"Please, don't slap me. It hurts a lot." The girl pleaded, joining her hand with tears pooling out from her eyes, head bended in melancholy, and body shivering.

"I would...never." Manik stated calmly, kneeling in front of her. He peered at her left cheek which had bluish black imprints of a palm. As the girl saw it, she hid her cheek with her both hands.

 "Who did this to you?" He questioned to the little girl in soft voice. She blinked at him then her gaze darted to her father.

"Did you do this?" Manik bellowed at the servant.

"I did not, Mahārathi." The servant, Lokesh, answered in his meek voice.

"Then who?" Manik questioned again, making Lokesh shudder in his place while the little soul stood firmly on her place.

"Mahārathī, she fell..."

"The Queen's brother slapped me because I bumped into him. He even called me names and..." The girl's mouth was abruptly closed by her father.

"We don't want to raise this matter anymore. Please forgive her." Manik slapped Lokesh's joint hands who began mumbling nonsensical words to him.

"All of us are humans, and we are equal. We may differ in status, but we, all are same. So, don't plead for something you haven't done." Manik stated to Lokesh whose gaze was focused on the floor.

"What's your name?" Manik asked the little girl who stared down at him.

She blinked often-times, thinking, whether she should tell her name or not. She stretched her neck up to her father then answered, "Chaitrā."

"Such a beautiful name!"

"So, you wanted to go to the fair," Manik asked, and the girl again looked up to her father who indicated to say no.

She bobbed her head up and down.

"I am alone here. Will you accompany me?" The girl nodded negatively, hiding herself in her father's embrace.

"You can take anyone with you; whoever you wish to." Manik made a deal with her. She made faces in severe directions, pondering over the proposal.

"I'll take my jījī with me, okay." She bobbed her head asking him if he affirmed or not.

"Mahārathī, it's not needed,"

"Shhh," Manik silenced the man with his forefinger on his lip. "I'm not taking you. I'm taking your daughters, and their safety will be my responsibility." He assured Lokesh.

"Vachan," Manik smiled at Chaitrā, who spread her little hand in front of him.

"Vachan." He kept his big palm over her small one and promised her for her safety.

"But Bābā hasn't got his salary of the last month." Manik stared at Lokesh and shook his head.

"Why don't you leave this country and settle somewhere else?" Manik quizzed and looked behind at Advait, who was busy eating grains from the bowl.

"Our ancestors have served this country, so we cannot leave this at any cost." Manik narrowed his eyes at the oath.

"The ancestors of both families were respective towards each other. Unlike now, only one side is responsible for all the care and respect." Chaitrā blinked at Manik impressed by his thinking.

"Moreover, nothing is above the security and comfort of our family. Hope you will make a better decision if the situation remains same." Manik patted Lokesh's shoulder.

"Go, get ready," Manik informed Chaitrā and left.

"Baba, should we go?" Chaitrā confirmed to her father because the man, who just went away, was a stranger to them.

"Mahārathī is good. You all will be safe with him." Lokesh praised Manik as this wasn't the first time he helped him.

"Bābā," Chaitrā sat down in fear, covering her head as Advait flew over her, touching her head with his leg.

"Why does Mahārathī have a pigeon?" She exclaimed at her father, shouting at him as if it was his fault.

"Royal people use pigeons to send letters that's why he has one."

"Really," Chitrā stared at the path from where Advait flew, some moments ago.

"How do they come back home? Does his pigeon can also speak like us?" Chaitrā's eyes bulged out in astonishment.

"That you should ask to Mahārathī." Lokesh picked up the bowl from the wall that contained a null amount of grain. "Now, let's get ready." Lokesh cheered his daughter, picking her up in his embrace.

Chaitrā settled her legs on either side of her father while Lokesh balanced her legs in his arms, ready to leave for their home.

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