“Conflicts are aplenty in the world due to women and wealth”
- Kunchan Nambiar.
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It was the wintry month of Mārgazhi. The usually chilly night was enveloped further, in a mask of extreme coldness. The night would've been pitch dark if not for the platinum glow of the crescent that moved across the black curtain, on which shiny sequins of fire were elegantly embroidered. The freezing breeze wafted the perfume that it had collected from the silvery, night-blooming flowers into a dark room which apparently seemed as if it was meant for strategic discussions and probably, discussions on warfare. It housed depictions of texts like the Arthashāstra by Kautilya, the Dhanurveda Samhita, Nīti Prakāshika etc, carved upon black basalt. Various scenes of battle and the duties of kings, queens, princesses, princes, body guards and others, the usage of weapons, especially the ones for mass destruction and the warnings for their usage were sculpted. These scenes, chiseled upon the dark rock were sequences from the ancient scriptures that spoke of history. The carvings spoke of the valour of men, women, transgender and every other gender known, along with animals, some not widely known and others popular.
Lamps and torches, made of brass and bronze, adorned with the blazing fire along with other instruments that alighted without the usage of fire, illuminated the room. The Vedic Jaataveda fought occassionally against his own brother, Tanūna, the cold breeze, to keep himself alive. The fragrant smoke of burnt Aguru danced across the room.
The room consisted of a round table, with a huge circumference, whittled down from an Indian Rosewood. It upheld a geographical map of Bhārata, Shrīvijaya, Angkor, Indrapura, Tāmbralinga, Song China, Rajhanate of Cebu and Ilangai. The mountains and other hilly tracts on the map were depicted by sticking clay models of those natural phenomena. If the mountain supported vegetation, it was painted with a hue of Viridian. The rest of the mountains, depending on the climatic condition of the landscape, were drenched in appropriate colours. For example, the snowy Himalayas were dyed in ivory, on which, a coating of crushed cowrie shells were shaded upon to provide a glossy, glistening finish. The great Indian desert was tinted in sienna. The types of soil, such as the alluvial, regur tracts, laterite among others were also stained differently, in accordance to their earthen colours. Water bodies were delineated blue. Volcanoes were coloured black, with their tips being a mix of red and orange. Important ports, kingdoms, cities and empires were penned in golden letters upon the map, whereas the rest of the landmarks were in black. Pointers and other instruments made of wood used for navigation were placed in holders that surrounded the map for ease in usage.
The round table showed vines, flowers, birds, insects and other plants and animals at its edges. The chairs too, made of Indian Rosewood, held matching motifs.
A man sat upon one of those chairs. His tawny eyes glittered, as they reflected the light around him. His skin tone, similar to darkened honey, sported a natural, healthy glow, perhaps due to the application of oil. His chiseled frame was covered in a white Uttarīya along with a yellow Paridhana, embroidered with gold. Even though adorned with several jewels such as Upagrīva, Skandhamāla, Hīkkāsūtra, Keyūra, Katībandha among others, the battle scars upon his body were the medals he earned, the ones that were more prized to him than any of the aforementioned jewels. His callous hands and feet had imprints of the red Alaktaka on them, that drew beauteous designs. His face, covered with a beard at the jaws and moustache above the lips, even though held a bright compassion, did not fail to exude a crooked, ill-minded countenance. His dark, oiled hairs supported a gem studded Kīrtīmukuta and his ears that listened carefully to the man who stood in front of him were bejeweled with golden Makarakundalas, glistening with the unique shine of rubies and emeralds. It was crystal clear that he was a king.
His left arm rested upon the map, analysing it, while the right one held and occassionally caressed out of fatherly affection, an endearing boy, not older than 3 or 4 years, clad just in a white Paridhana, Yañjōpavita clear against his sunkissed skin. The boy's eyes were a deep brown, inherited from his mother, while his skin tone, akin to his father's. He gazed curiously at the large map, listening to the person who stood opposite to him, explaining something that he could not decipher at that time, making him yawn occassionally. The man opposite to him was a samalaingika, bearing an aura of intimidation. He wore Thātankas to differentiate himself from other men. His skin boasted of a glowing honey toned complexion, richly blessed with battle scars that he proudly wore as his jewellery. His mannerisms spoke that he was subordinate to the king, the battle scars possibly conveyed that he was a military commander. The Yañjōpavita covered his battle hardened, scar sprinkled chest, desired by many, irrespective of genders. His palms were covered in bagh nakhas or metallic tiger claws.
His palms and feet, alike his master, were also etched in Alaktaka. He obediently spoke to his master, his voice quite high pitched when compared to the heterosexual males. His Vox screamed humbleness, so did his bowed posture. He looked as if he were 17 years old, when he wasn't. He explained about the Chōlan navy to the king who sat opposite to him. The king listened carefully, and when his subordinate was done, he prepared to speak.
"Hmmm, Dandanāyaka, you please me enough with these words of yours. How'd you suggest that we conquer their naval fleets?" The king, in his richly deep vox, asked his general who stood dumbfounded at the question.
"Rāja, what do you mean?" The general questioned as he was dumbfounded at his master's audacity that he dared to even think of attacking the mighty Chōlās.
The king sighed, the prince engulfed in his arms looked up at him to know what he was about to say. Eventually, he spoke ;
"You see, my general, the Chōlās have snatched what has always been ours. Instead of just simply lay back and rule the land that was theirs, they were greedy enough to covet the lands of others! We, the Chālukyas, who peacefully ruled what was ours, were forced into a war, which we failed! We failed! Those rogues had the insolence to even announce us as subordinates! We, the Chālukyas, who ruled graciously upon this soil have now reduced to mere subordinates, powerless subordinates under that reckless Meghavarnan! Tell me, my general, how fair is this?" The Chālukyan ruler exclaimed maliciously, the years of latent fury finally voicing itself. The little prince was now beyond shocked and frightened at his father's outburst. The obedient general stood wide-eyed, electrified at his master's sudden gust. He fumbled at his words, not sure what to utter now. Yet, he managed to come out of his trance and let his master know his thoughts. He took a deep breath and spoke out, "Forgive me for my impudence, my king, but as far as I'm concerned, didn't we conquer other lands as well? Mahārājah, didn't your ancestor, Pulakēshin, conquer the entire Deccan?" His head bowed as he spoke, his voice dripping with modesty. But, the meekness that he offered never consoled the hot headed king. Instead, it acted as fuel upon his raging anger.
"HOW DARE YOU EVEN SAY ANYTHING DISGRACEFUL ABOUT MY GLORIOUS ANCESTORS?! THEY MADE EVERYTHING DANCE IN PROSPERITY! BUT THE CHŌLĀS?! THEY BRING UPON DESTRUCTION AND VIOLENCE EVERYWHERE THEY GO! THEY HAVE EVEN DARED TO CAPTURE OUR MOTHER KĀVERI!! MOTHER KĀVERI IS OURS, NOT THEIRS!!”
The king's eyes shone red with anger as he inhaled deeply, as an attempt to calm himself down. His palm was enclosed in a fist, the grip he had on his boy tightened. The little prince, who had never seen this side of his father in his short span of life, was almost in the verge of tears. Before the king could continue, the Dwārapālaka announced the arrival of someone extremely important.
"THE MOST COMPASSIONATE, THE VĀKJĀLAPRIYĀ, THE MOTHER TO US ALL, THE WOMAN FROM THE SEA FARING KALINGA, THE QUEEN OF THE CHĀLUKYAS, PATTAMAHISHI RIDDHIMATI ARRIVES!"
The doors made of dark catechu, that bragged of the splendorous carvings of deities like Chandīkēshvara, the Dwārapālakas, the Ekādasha Rudras, the Dasha Mahāvidyās and others were swung open. The only queen, the lover of the Chālukyan king, strode in majestically like the lioness that she is. She wore a royal blue Pudavai and no ornaments apart from the Mañjal Thāli that rested proudly on her breasts. Her long hairs which were slightly wet, were tied in a bun that she might style into a braid before she slept, just an hour away from then. The sweet smell of the Kastūrī variety of turmeric and honey whirled across the room, suggesting that she might have taken a relaxing bath after the tiring day. Her skin was the shade of gold, whose shimmers were the natural glow and the battle scars she had acquired due to years of warring and training in weapons and medicine were the designs engraved. It was compulsory for every warrior to have a fair amount of medical knowledge, so that any injury or disease could be treated independently. Crimson Sindhūra coloured her Sīmandarēkha. She had a peaceful expression when she entered the room, but it morphed quickly into horror and shock as she gazed upon her now crying son. "Anantaka!" She gasped and ran quickly towards her son, taking him in her arms and pacifying him. Riddhimati glanced upon the apologetic composure of the commander in chief and the vexed mien of her husband, who stood glaring at the Dandanāyaka amidst caressing his beloved son.
She glared at her husband, whom she had by now acknowledged to be the cause of her son's sorrow. She was jaded enough due to his quick temper. The king tried to explain himself to his wife, blaming everything upon the military chief who had roused his rage, only to get horribly glowered by his wife.
The queen paid no attention to whatever her husband was saying and continued to pacify her sobbing son, which was, at that particular moment, her primary objective. Anantaka, the Chālukyan prince, was tucked within his mother's comforting embrace. She murmured assuring words into his ears, saying that she'll protect him from every harm and showed him the starlit saree of Rātri, the night goddess and the white petaled blossoms that drifted spirituous fragrances. Shortly, the child felt drowsy. It didn't take much time for him to glide into the realms of non REM slumber.
Seating her son comfortably on one of the chairs, she turned to both the men, her wrists balanced on her hips. She held a frowning, dour and authoritative expression that starkly resembled the queen that she was. She stared intensely, observing the two for a brief moment.
"Kaushika, what had happened?"
The question broke the chilly silence that reigned through the room. The queen's expression was nonchalant as she questioned. The Sēnānāyaka, christened Kaushika, to whom, the question was hurled, took a quick glance at his king and gulped down the saliva that collected within his mouth, to soothe his slightly parched throat. He bowed obediently and narrated the entire incident to Riddhimati, his vox splashed in modesty. She sighed, as she stared at her husband with a miserable expression. All her serenity and nonchalance was replaced by misery and pity for her husband and his dubious plans.
"Pranaya, we have talked about this", she spoke while making herself comfortable on one of the chairs, "What you're thinking is absolute stupidity. We have neither the power nor the resources to defeat an enemy as powerful and resourceful as the Chōlās. Please, try to understand this, love!"
She implored the king once again, one of her several failed attempts to convince her husband, who was to her, now a person no less than on the brink of insanity with his idiotic ambition of 'Conquering the Chōlās'.
But, this Chālukyan king was stubborn as a bull. He was far beyond talking and understanding logic.
"Riddhi, I have also told you several times that I shall not abandon my dreams. These are the ways I shall honour my ancestors. They have all wished to defeat the Chōlās. I am committing what I am supposed to. You're my Ardhāngini, Riddhi, the one who completes me. You must support me in the great feats I'm about to commit!"
He gripped his wife's shoulders and pressed them gently. Her eyes were begging him to back off from this plan. His gaze, completely ignoring his concerned wife, hovered over the sleeping form of their offspring. His wife's eyes too followed his gaze, dread filling her insides as she found his eyes to be staring at their son.
"Look at our son!", He spoke enthusiastically, "He's strong like me and intelligent like you! He's the perfect one to vanquish -"
"Are you telling me that our boy is going to be involved in this lunacy?!"
The queen's voice rose into an enraged pitch. She could not bear this. The lioness of a mother in her could not bear the fact that her son, the one she nourished and for whom she bore the intensely horrible torment of childbirth was going to be a scapegoat for her husband. She, was now losing her calm.
"You are, in absolutely no way, involving my son into this!" She gritted through her teeth, passive aggression slipping. At this expression, the Mahārājah too, felt his now controlled anger to be slightly ignited. He took a deep breath and announced authoritatively, his opinion crisp and clear.
"Anantaka shall be the greatest weapon I shall use for this war. No power on Earth shall stop me from doing so, not even you, Riddhimati!"
The coldly formal edge of his voice while pronouncing her name slightly broke the queen's heart. She took a deep breath, sighing at the inhalation.
"Fine! You're unchangeable. But I shall not sit idly and watch the destruction of our kingdom. You say that our son shall be the greatest weapon of yours", Her deep brown eyes now shone with malice, "I, Riddhimati, the princess of Kalinga, the Pattamahishi of the Chālukya-Mahārājah, swear on Parameshwara, who's name clepes our son's, that I shall try my maximum to keep my son safe from your clutches!" Her eyes shimmered with fiery determination as she gently picked her son up in her arms and strode out of the chamber, tears slightly stinging her eyes. She turned, now giving one last look at her speechless, irate husband.
"Remember, you too are a Chōda, Mahārājah Arimardana!"
The aforementioned ruler growled in vicious rage as he threw a brass lamp at the basalt floor. The doors shut loudly as the broken hearted Riddhimati let her tears glide down her cheeks.
This was Arimardana - the torn ruler of the Chālukyas.
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Bonjour everyone!
I know that the book has started off with negativity and distress, BUT I GOTTA SAY ONE THING -
“From darkness, we move to light. ”
Okay, so this chapter is dedicated to Shivran86 , my dearest Māya di, who has a heap of secrets in her books, especially the Purushārtha serious! This is the root cause, the root of everything, which is why I've dedicated this to her, as she always has gray villains, like the character Hāmal, from her book, ‘Kāma : a lesson’.
Māyā di has also been a wonderful guide to me. She helped me by pointing out my mistakes and correcting them. I do remember troubling her a lot with the description of the story. She had suggested ideas and keys to form short yet precise descriptions that I'd follow for all my upcoming books as well. This chapter is also an indication of my gratitude towards her. TYSM Māyā di!
The names Meghavarnan and Arimardana is actually a tribute to the wondrous Panchatantra. The third volume of the Panchatantra, Kākōllūkīyam (of the Crows and the Owls), has crows and owls to be enemies, and their kings are Meghavarnan and Arimardana respectively. This volume is my most favourite one of the entire series!
Let me get into the glossary now, before y'all roam confusedly ~
• Mārgazhi - it's the Tamil name for the month Mārgashīrsha. Mārgashīrsha usually occurs between November to December and is considered to be one of the coldest months of the year.
• Dhanurveda Samhita - it's a conversation between Rshis (seers) Vasistha and Vishwāmitra about archery and weaponry.
• Nīti Prakāshika - a book on both archery and politics by Muni (seer) Vaishampāyana, who had learnt all about it from his teacher, the current Veda Vyāsa.
• Jaataveda - another name for Agni, the fire god.
• Tanūna - another name for Vāyu, the wind god.
• Aguru - Agarwood or agallochum. It's a fragrant wood, used as an incense.
• Bhārata is India. Shrīvijaya is present day Cambodia. Angkor is the capital of the Khmer kingdom. Indrapura is the capital of the Champa kingdom, which is roughly present day Vietnam. Song China is just China, ruled by the Song dynasty. Rajhanate of Cebu is a kingdom established by Sri Lumay, a minor Chōlan prince, in the Philippines. Sri Lumay's father was a Chōlan, who had married a woman from Cambodia.
•Uttarīya - it's a shawl, usually worn to cover your torso.
•Paridhana - also called dhoti, it's a long, single piece of cloth draped around your legs to create pants.
• Upagrīva - a necklace.
• Hīkkāsūtra - it's a necklace like ornament, usually worn along the Upagrīva.
• Skandhamāla - an ornament worn on the shoulders.
• Keyūra - an armband, usually worn on the biceps.
• Katībandha - a hip belt.
• Alaktaka - also called Lāksha or lac, it's a natural resin produced by the insect Laccifer Lacca. It's also used as a red coloured dye, used to colour the hands and feet. It was compulsory for every man and woman in ancient India to wear it every day. It was a part of their daily routine.
• Kīrtīmukuta - Crown.
• Makarakundala - A type of earrings usually worn by men in ancient India.
• Yañjōpavita - a sacred thread worn diagonally over the body, starting from the left shoulder and ending in the right side, over the waist.
• Samalaingika - gay.
• Thātanka - A type of earrings, usually worn by women in ancient India.
• Dandanāyaka - Commander-in-chief of an army. Sēnānāyaka also means the same.
• Rāja, Mahārājah - King. The word Maha means ‘Great’, thus, the word Mahārājah means ‘The great king’.
• Dwārapālaka - doorkeeper
• Vākjālapriyā - (feminine) the one who loves to play with words.
• Pattamahishi - the chief queen.
• Chandīkēshvara - a deity, who is usually the treasurer of the temple.
• Ekādasha Rudras - Ekādasha means 11 and Rudras are a set of gods, who are a form of Shiva, who both annihilate and fullfill the desires of devotees.
• Dasha Mahāvidyās - Dasha is 10. The Mahāvidyās are a set of 10 forms of Shakti. They're mostly worshipped by the practitioners of Tantra.
• Pudavai - A Tamil word for saree.
• Mañjal Thāli - a sacred thread worn as a chain to a woman upon her marriage. It's called as Mangal Sutra in the northern parts of India. Mañjal Thāli is actually a long silk or cotton thread, consecrated and dipped in turmeric. Mangal Sutra is a chain with black beads, but the Mañjal Thāli is a thread. Mañjal means turmeric.
• Kastūri Mañjal - a variety of turmeric, Curcuma aromatica, usually used for bathing.
• Sindhūra - a red powder, usually prepared by mixing slaked lime with turmeric. Kumkuma is a synonym for Sindhūra.
• Sīmandarēkha - It's the part of hairline, usually filled by a married woman with Sindhūra, which signifies her marital status.
• Pranaya - love
• Ardhāngini - (feminine) The other half.
• Parameshwara - a name of Shiva, which means ‘The supreme God’
• Kalinga - present day Odisha, an Indian state.
• Chōda - a synonym for Chōla.
• Kunchan Nambiar - A malayali poet wo lived during the 18th century, the founder of the dance form ‘Ōttanthullal’, which is famous for criticism.
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Here we go, the unknown words and their meanings! Gosh, typing all of this was such a task! 😆
Btw, here's a question for the readers -
‘Lamps and torches, made of brass and bronze, adorned with the blazing fire along with other instruments that alighted without the usage of fire, illuminated the room.’
What do you think are the ‘other instruments’ I've mentioned here? ( _Dharmadoot_ ik that you know the answer to this, just don't reveal it out yet😉)
I hope you enjoy the chapter, thank you so much for reading.
Bye for today!