I am trapped in a kaleidoscope, ensnared in a whirligig of colour, with golden tassels of white umbrellas tinkling and glittering in the sunbeams, with patches of blue sky stepping in and out of focus. I am borne on a velvet dais. Behind me, I hear the tinkle of joyful laughter, the chime of small bells echoing in the air. I see their necklaces of rubies and sapphires, their gilded dresses, and their pale, sandaled feet. And then it all disappears in a dazzling burst of the brightest hues.
'Thamee, wake up.'
My mother's slender figure loomed over my bedside as she roused me from my sleep. The day had just broken: not even the birds that usually chorus so loudly in the mango tree had arisen.
'What time is it?' I murmured.
'It doesn't matter,' she snapped. 'Your father wants to see you. Get up.'
The words sunk in, and I leapt out of bed eagerly. It was not every day that my father, and the father of my one hundred and ten half-siblings, summoned one of his children to see him. Mother efficiently bathed and dressed me, adorning my hair with jewelled pins and freshly picked gardenias. She chose the most beautiful gown I owned; a lovely violet silk tamein with a silver eingyi to match. She draped over my shoulders one of her scarves. It was violet, filigreed with the finest threads of gold.
'Go on,' Mother urged, as we hurried through the sleepy halls of the Royal Palace. 'Remember to bow before him, Zezawa.'
I pressed my palms together and nodded.
We presently arrived at Father's chamber. Mother nudged me inside. With tottering steps, I made my way up to where he lay on the bed.
My father, King Mindon, feebly raised his head. His chief consort, Queen Sein Don, was beside him, fondly bathing his brow with a moistened towel.
'Zezawa is here,' she whispered to him.
I knelt down before him, and pressed my forehead to the cold floor. When I looked up, my father was smiling.
'Come here, thamee,' he said, his voice wavering.
I approached.
'It's your birthday today, isn't it?'
An involuntary giggle of glee escaped me. He'd remembered! And then I caught myself. Of course he remembered. Father had not missed any of his children's birthdays. I remembered when Ma Thazin was summoned on her birthday. He had given her a beautiful carousel, which had been fashioned in Britain. I excitedly wondered what he had in store for me.
I forced myself to remain calm.
'Yes, Father.'
'How old are you now?'
'Fourteen, Father.'
'My, how fast you grow.'
His voice was hoarse, as if he was struggling to speak. I noticed now the wrinkles that lined his aged brow; the shudder in his fingers as he took my hand; the heaviness of his eyelids that threatened to close and never reopen. I clutched his hand fast.
'Father, are you feeling well?'
He laughed wearily.
'I'm fine, my daughter. I have a present for you.'
Queen Sein Don fished under the bed and brought out a wooden casket. She gingerly handed it over to me.
'Be careful with it, Zezawa,' she warned.
Confused, I opened the casket. Inside was a dagger. The hilt was of rubies; the blade, sharp with polished silver. I gazed at it in wonder and fear. It was not the birthday gift I was expecting.
'What is this for?'
Father did not reply, but sank his head onto the pillow. I walked out of the royal chamber, confused and flustered. Why did he give me a dagger for my birthday?
'The King is dying,' Queen Hsinbyumashin announced. 'He wishes to bid everyone farewell. He is in the fields.'
As one, all the royal children formed a procession and exited the chambers silently. We had known that the end was nigh; we had not known that it would come so soon.
I was one of the last to go. I was just about to pass the threshold when I espied my half-sister and half-brother, Supayalat and Thibaw, talking in the corridor, in hushed whispers. They did not see me, but I could hear them quite clearly.
'Don't go, Su,' Thibaw was saying. 'It's a plan my mother hatched. There is going to be a great celebration in the city streets. All our siblings are being sent to the fields where the elephants are waiting. When they are dead, we shall be king and queen.'
'How very clever!' gushed Supayalat.
I staggered. I rushed out of the chambers and collided into Queen Sein Don.
'Zezawa! What are you doing?'
'They're all going to be killed!' I shrieked. 'I have to warn them!'
'Listen to me, Zezawa. Nothing can save them now. Come!'
She took me down winding staircases that I had not known existed in the palace. We arrived finally out near the river, where a boat was moored. Two oars were inside it, and a velvet sack. Royal children were buried in velvet sacks.
'Get in,' she ordered.
I obeyed. The brightness of the day added to my fear. What if someone saw us? Queen Sein Don hurled the velvet sack over my head, and tied it up at my feet. I now could see nothing. But the Queen's voice, barely a whisper, came through.
'I'll push you out to the river. Stay afloat for an hour or two, and then use your dagger to cut yourself out. Forget about us.'
I began to cry.
'Hush now, Zezawa.'
I felt her push the boat out to the river, just as the thunder of the deadly drums began, and the cheer of the people filled the air, all designed to drown out the dying cries of the princes and princesses in the fields, being stamped to death by vicious elephants.
When I finally emerged, the sun was setting, beyond the padauk trees, on the Myanmar kingdom. On the approaching shore, Thibaw was waiting for me.
