There was a footpath cutting through the jungle. The growth would have been dense enough to block out light during daytime. There was no light at all at night, unlike on the minor road, where starlight helped visibility somewhat.
Vikraman realized that he was following a stranger in such odd
settings. For all his bravery, he was very nervous. The footpath was narrow
enough that tree branches and shrubs rubbed against him as he walked. He could
hear the harsh hoots of owls. There was a roar from a distance. The horse
neighed in response. The spy chief patted the horse reassuringly. The horse led
the way. The spy chief and Vikraman followed, in that order.
Along the way, Vikraman tripped on a tree root. The spy chief lent
him a hand to get him on his feet. Vikraman was amazed at the strength of the
grip. ‘Such strong hands! The spy chief should be an awesome warrior. The
Emperor seems to be good at picking the right man for the job’, he thought.
Just as he was wondering if the darkness would ever end, he could
see the sky. He could see the outline of a building at a distance.
“We’re there! You can rest here overnight and leave in the
morning” said the spy chief.
“Sounds like a plan! Whose house is this? Who would build a house
in the middle of such a dense jungle, and why?”, asked Vikraman, puzzled.
“The man who built the house is no more. This was not such a
remote place in his days. I can tell you the story if you can’t sleep at
night”.
The spy chief knocked on the door. Vikraman saw then that it was
not an ordinary house. It looked like a temple or art gallery. The door opened.
An old woman emerged, carrying a lamp. She looked at the spy chief with raised
eyebrows, clearly surprised at his arrival.
The spy chief quickly touched his lips with his left index finger.
She understood the signal and wiped the look of surprise from her face. She
opened the door wide, saying, “Please come in Sir!”
The two men entered the house. The horse entered the house with
an air of familiarity. It went to the back door and waited. The old woman
opened the back door. The horse went out through the door.
The spy chief turned to Vikraman and said, “See how smart this
horse is! I had tied it in the backyard when I came here once before. It seems
to find its way from memory. I am going to tend to the horse. Look at the
sculptures as you wait”. He went out through the back door. The old woman
followed him with the lamp.
A bright lantern on the wall was lighting up the room. Vikraman
looked around and concluded that it was not really a house, but a sculpture
gallery. The house seemed to be full of wonderful sculptures. The walls were
covered with colorful paintings. They seemed to have been painted several years
ago, but still seemed full of life.
A girl of divine beauty figured prominently in the sculptures and
paintings. The art seemed to be based on her dance poses and facial
expressions. Vikraman was stunned by the skill and beauty on display in those
works of art. The art he had seen in Uraiyur art gallery and the Mamallapuram
art festival could not come even close. He couldn’t wait to find out about the
master artist who created all those works of art.
The spy chief returned after feeding the horse. Vikraman asked,
“Sir, these statues are incredible! Who is the sculptor who created these? The
statues feature a woman of divine beauty. Was she real, or a creation of the
sculptor’s imagination? Why is this art hidden in the jungle? Should they not
be exhibited to the public?”
“As I said, it is a long story. If you don’t mind forgoing sleep
for the rest of the night, I will tell you. I’m starving right now. The old
woman is bringing us a meal of flour of flaked rice and jaggery. Let’s eat
first”.
They ate. While they were eating, Vikraman said, “You did not tell
me your name”.
“My name is Veerasenan. Yours?”
Surprised, Vikraman responded, “Mine is Devasenan”.
“Nice! We have an affinity in our names. We can speak freely. Why
are you going to Uraiyur in a hurry? If your goal is to sell precious gems,
shouldn’t you go to Kanchi?”
Despite feeling grateful and warm towards the spy chief, Vikraman
grew cautious. ‘What if he discovers my identity? I have to watch what I say’,
he thought.
“My mother is in Uraiyur. I am eager to see her. That is the
reason I’m rushing to go to Uraiyur”.
“Didn’t you say you are from Senbaga Island?”
“My birthplace is Uraiyur. I went to Senbaga Island a few years
ago to earn a livelihood. After the Chozha kingdom was annexed to the Pallava
empire, its prosperity was gone. What sort of gem trade can I do in a city
with no royal family?”
Vikraman mentioned the Royal family, hoping Veerasenan would say
something about Queen Arulmozhi. It did not work out that way. Veerasenan
remained quiet for the rest of the meal.
After the meal, Vikraman asked again for the story of the house.
“Devasena, do you believe in death?”, asked the spy chief.
Vikraman was nonplussed. “What do you mean? Believe in death?”
“Do you really believe people die? When we say a life ended, does
the life really end, or does it linger on earth even after the body is gone? Do
dead people think of us? Do they come here? Are they watching what we do?”
Vikraman thought of his father, and the promise he had made to his
father. ‘Is he really watching what I’m doing?’, he thought.
He said, “I have such questions too, but I haven’t found anyone to
answer them.”
“I think the whole thing called death is a falsehood. It’s also
silly to grieve for people who are dead. Ayanar, the sculptor and Sivagami, his
daughter, lived in this house thirty years ago. Those days, the sounds of
chisel and anklets of dancers used to sound all the time. Sivagami used
to dance wonderfully. Ayanar used to transcribe her dance poses into paintings
and sculptures."
“So, the divine looking woman is Sivagami?”
“Yes. It was during Emperor Mahendra Varman’s days. His son Narasima
Varman was around your current age at that time. I used to come here with him.
We could hear the sounds of dancers' anklets from quite a distance on
our way here. I still can’t believe Ayanar and Sivagami are not here. If I
listen carefully, I can still hear the anklet and chisel.
Vikraman’s curiosity was piqued. He requested Veerasenan for more
information on Ayanar and Sivagami. Veerasenan obliged. He talked about
Ayanar’s peerless artistic skills. He also talked about Sivagami’s beauty and
dancing skills. He briefly alluded to the love that blossomed between the young
Narasimha Varman and Sivagami. He described how the love was disrupted by the tyrant
Pulikesi and his army’s charge; how Sivagami was taken captive by Pulikesi;
Narasimha Varman’s efforts to free Sivagami; how Sivagami swore an oath; and
how Narsimha Varman fulfilled the oath. Then he described how Sivagami realized
her love couldn't succeed, and was heartbroken.
Vikraman was moved to tears at various points of the story.
He developed a new regard for Emperor Narasimha Varman. It might be fair to say
he even developed some affection towards the Emperor. He reminded himself of
the promise he made to his father, and recalled that Narasimha Varman was the
sworn enemy of his clan.
It was almost early morning when they slept. They slept for three
hours. Vikraman was woken up by the musical chirping of birds. He wondered if he had
dreamt the previous night’s happenings. He had to look around to confirm
that he had not.
“Devasena, the horse is well rested and is raring to go. It did
not stay up like we did! Once you finish the morning ablutions, you can get on
your way to Uraiyur”, called the spy chief from outside.
Vikraman finished his morning routines and ate the simple
breakfast that the old woman provided. He took leave from Veerasenan. “Sir, I
am indebted to you. I can’t possibly repay you for saving my life. However, I
don’t want to accept the horse for free. Can you please accept this as the
price of the horse?”. He offered him a fistful of gems.
“You are mistaken. I have not gifted you my dear horse. I have
just lent it to you. After you finish your business, please return the horse at
the same place on your way back”, said the spy chief.
“I will do so. In any case, please accept these gems as a token of my
gratitude”, said Vikraman.
Veerasenan agreed and accepted the gems.
Vikraman mounted the horse. The spy chief patted the horse and
said, “This horse is accustomed to the route to Uraiyur. If you let it go on its
own way, it will get you to Uraiyur. You don’t need any directions”.
The horse walked along the path in the forest. Vikraman kept
turning back to look at the sculpture house and the spy chief until they both
disappeared from view. In daylight, he could see the aura of the spy chief’s
face and his graceful bearing; those had made a deep impression on him.
Click here for the audiobook version
Parthban Kanavu: The Tamil version of the novel is in the public domain. Copyright for the translation is reserved by the translator..
Art by Sujatha, unless otherwise credited.
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