Rajkumari Isha appeared to hate her and Ajiona did not particularly care. If she would be truly honest with herself, she disliked Isha too. Something about the long limbed, thin-faced, sharp-tongued princess rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was partly the familiarity she had with Bhalla. They shared a relationship that went back years to the times of childhood, something Ajiona would never have with him. She saw them earlier today, as she walked down to the garden with Rudra in her arms. Bhalla seemed to be at ease with her, his face wasn't tightened up in a scowl. It put her in a black mood.
Now, Ajiona sat in a large covered palanquin with Rajkumari Isha, Tannaya and Unnika. Isha was regalling the others with her childhood tales, particular those in Mahishmathi.
‘...and at sunset, the waters are painted with beautiful colours. A Gulmohar tree stand right at the edge of the pond and it flames up in sunset. Tortoises swim lazily. I and Bhalla used to swing from the branches, playing monkeys. Then we'll play Bheema and Hanuman, taking turns.’ She slid a sly look at Ajiona.
Ajiona met her gaze. It was on the tip of her tongue to say: really? we read there together now, at sunset. Sometimes, we play each other songs on his tanpura. Yes, the one you bought for him. But she wasn't the kind to battle with a person over a man. Even if she thoroughly disliked the person. ...or maybe she disliked Isha partly because she thought she was beautiful.
Rajkumari was fair, thin-faced with high cheekbones and dewy doe-eyes, and a round plump mouth. She was tall with long legs and long neck and walked with easy grace that made Ajiona think she was clumsy.
Or maybe it was because of Isha's need to be at the centre of the attention. Yesterday had chafed her. She was used to all looking to her as the wonder, to have the attention diverted to someone who wasn't even of royal birth rubbed against her pride in the wrong way.
This trip had been a way to get the attention back on her. Ajiona had planned a horse ride to the river where they'll have picnic, but that had been momentarily shelved because Rajkumari Aanya was scared of her designated mount and refused to be coaxed unto the horse, it didn't matter the animal had been the gentlest. Aanya had almost broken down in tear when Isha stepped in and “suggested” they go into the city to shop. The other rajkumaris rallied around her eagerly, Aanya's breakdown had awoken their fears. Isha puffed up gloatingly when they did.
Rajkumari Yasthi, Aanya and Virika had begged to be excused from the trip, citing illness. The Maharanis were having their queenly meetings, so Ajiona, Isha, Tannaya and Unnika were left to go on the trip.
‘How long have you been guest of the royal family, Ajiona?’ Isha asked.
‘Eleven months.’ Ajiona had decided to let Isha's subtle barbs go over her, she had more important things to worry about, like getting information out from Snigdha. The jealousy of a petulant child was no longer a concern of hers.
‘I heard the acting companies in Mahishmati are superb,’ Rajkumari Unnika ventured, ‘can't wait to see one of their plays. Have you seen one of the plays, lady Ajiona?’
‘Eleven months in Mahishmati, and you haven't sampled one of the wonders it has to offer?’ Isha was amused, a glint appeared in her eyes. ‘Yuvaraju Bhallaladeva and I went to watch one of their plays when I was twelve. We snuck out to watch it. It was at the city square, the play was about a brahmin woman who offended a yaksha and they took her children as punishment. So as penance, she has to perform some tasks before she got them back. Travelling bards and murmers do come through our kingdom and they perform for us. Such a shame our own companies’ can't match them.
‘Royal mother said there'll be plays at the final feast, after the yagna. I wonder if it'll be something romantic,’ Unnika said with wistful smile.
‘I’m not concerned about that. I've heard about the poets of Mahishmati, I've sampled some of their works including Goppa naipuṇyaṁ kaligina vyakti by Arjuna. It was delightful.’ Tannaya said.
Ajiona was again distracted from her thoughts. The image of maharani Snigdha vanished as their words filled her hearing. Poets? poem? Arjuna? Ajiona had heard none of those before. In fact, the last time she touched a work of fiction was The Lord of the flies during their flight to Mumbai. All she had read and was reading were religious books, treatise on grammar, books on laws, books on ethics, books on conduct, books on statecraft. She had read the Nāṭyaśāstra, a 6000 versed treatise on performance act, but it was for knowledge sakes. The Mahabharata and Ramayana don't count because she had read them at the behest of Devashuni, who derived lessons from them.
She felt uncomfortably out of touch with life, so caught up in studying and trying to survive in a foreign world. But now that she heard of them, she was determined to not let them pass her by. Maybe, the fictions would give her a sense of normalcy in the Topsy-Turvy world she had been tossed into.
The rajkumaris talked excitedly about their favourite poems, describing scenes from them with obvious delight. Ajiona did not join in. Isha noticed her reticence and a sly gleam appeared in her eyes. The talk crossed over to cuisine and then to jewellery, so by the time they arrived at the marketplace, the princesses have dissolved into fits of giggles.
They tried composing themselves as the litter was set down and they were helped out, but their faces were red and mouths twitched constantly.
The first stop was the jewelry shop and Ajiona banished her thoughts and turned to her role as host. She offered suggestions, asked them to try out this or that, and did not haggle when the price was called. The merchant was completely subservient in the face of four women from royal background, and the burly men that guarded them. He offered to send a messenger with their purchase later on, rather than burden such refined ladies with them. Ajiona found him slimy.
From there it was on to a sweets shop; a weaver’s shop; a cobbler’s shop; a cosmetics shop. It was sometime around past noon, after a refreshing cup of mango juice, that they made their way to the book shop. Ajiona was glad to sit, her feet ached and she was looking forward to the comfort of her chambers and her friends. She hadn't really had time to talk and relax with Pragya and Mekhala like before, learning had eaten up all the time she had. And now that all instructions have been suspended pending the time the guests would be around, she was busy with planning out events for the royal princesses that Pragya and Mekhala didn't fit in.
Ajiona yearned for them. To sit in the coolness of her verandah, all the cumbersome silks and jewelries exchanged for a simple antariya wrapped around her, while Mekhala kneaded oil into her hair and gossiped and Pragya scowled at Mekhala's informal verbosity. She needed to talk to them. Mekhala had been acting a little off lately, sulking and short-tempered. Ajiona thought Mekhala was mad at her, but she hadn't had time to verify.
Rajkumari Isha was giggling at the risque portraits in the poem she bought. Tannaya was clearly shocked by the lewd poses but she kept mum for the fear that Isha might tease her. Ajiona thought she needed a lesson with Aadarshini about the rules of comportment: how to appear comfortably even if you aren't, how to make the blush disappear from your cheeks.
Despite Tannaya's best efforts, Isha noticed the colour that flooded her face and proceeded to tease her more by flipping through the other epics she had purchased, which turned out to be all risque. She remarked about passages and commented with a professional air, her laughter was coarse. Tannaya grew more uncomfortable with each calculated remark until it became unbearable to watch.
The mango juice was far gone, Ajiona wanted to go back to the palace. She broke the party up.
‘Yes, let's head to the akhada,’ Isha said.
Ajiona did a double take. What?
‘The men are playing Jallikattu at the akhada,’ Isha said to the other princesses.
Nonononono! Her dreams of heading back to the palace and sleeping the rest of the day was shattering right before her eyes. The others were already taken with the idea.
‘Will Yuvaraju Bahubali be participating?’ Unnika timidly asked.
Damn you, Isha.
***
Ajiona was dying of thirst when they arrived in the circular structure that remained Ajiona of the ancient Rome arenas. The sun had become impossibly hot and every ounce of the early morning moisture had been sucked up. Ajiona breathed in dry air, and sweltered in her silks; the mango juice had left an aftertaste in her mouth she did not like. She needed water to rinse it out.
The akhada hugged the spur of the hill the palace was surmounted on. The palki was set down and Ajiona got out eagerly and recoiled from the burning. It felt like she was back in the forge once again, except the constant hammering was missing. Which reminded her, the breastplates would be delivered later today.
A chhatradhara - umbrella bearer - hurried forward with a gold-trimmed umbrella to shade the women and they were conducted into the arena, under an awning of silk. Ajiona asked for water and drank half the pot. It was then, that the pressure in her head reduced. She was able to focus on what was going on.
The Princes and their companions milled about in loin cloths, so Ajiona was treated to the sight of firm bronze chests and strong legs. She caught sight of Bhalla, his curls was pulled behind and bound with a strip of leather. There was a scowl on his face as Nandak conversed with him, Bhalla didn't seem to be listening. His eyes roved about the arena busily, coming to settle on Ajiona then moving away. She felt a bit disappointed.
Bahu wasn't part of the group that wound strips of clothes around their hands, neither was Vivin or Lavan. There was only Bhalla, Nandak, Uddiran and Navin; along with Sethupathy, Bheema and two others that Ajiona did not recognise. The Maharajas sat beneath a wide silk awning with silver tassels, drinking and eating tidbits.
Bhalla and Uddiran grasped elbows and nodded to the officiator, who in turn waved his hand. The blast of the conch was deep and resonating. The game has begun.
Jallikattu was a game for showcasing bravery. It involved a Pulikulam breed bull with a token of coins tied around the hump released from a vadivasal (closed space). The participants divided into two teams attempt to remove the token within the time frame of half a muhurta, without touching the bull's neck, horns or tail.
When the bull was released from the vadivasal, Ajiona felt a prickle of trepidation. It charged out from the gates, towards Bhalla at a speed that was astonishing for a creature of such bulk. Her heart leapt to her throat and remained lodged there until at the last minute, Bhalla dove to the side and the bull careened forward, its momentum taking it further away. Its hooves kicked up clouds of dust as it swivelled round and thundered down towards the princes.
One of the prince's helpers attempted to leap unto its back but the bull kicked out his back legs. The violent blow sent the man flying through the air and landed hard on his shoulder with an audible snap. He collapsed into an unmoving heap. A gasp resonated through the arena. As the unfortunate fellow was flying through the air, Yuvaraju Uddiran seized the bull by its neck and was attempting to wrangle it to the floor. The beast bucked in an attempt to shake off the pesky human that clung to it. Yuvaraju Nandak had taken a swift kick from the flailing limps and crumpled on the floor. Bheema was even more unfortunate as the bull's horn sent him spiralling into the air only to land unceremoniously a few yards away, bleeding from a stomach wound.
The bull finally managed to dislodge Uddiran and it headbutted Navin, who recovered swiftly and charged at the bull. Ajiona scanned anxiously for Bhalla. As the carnage was going on, he remained on the sidelines, quick on his foot to escape the buck of the bull. When Sethupathy flew past him, he, in an unbelievable show of speed and flexibility, vaunted over Uddiran's back and unto the bull's head. The force of his landing and his weight sent the bull crashing down and before the beast could recover, Bhalla had the token in his fist. He vaulted off the bull as the herders came forward to take care of the bull. A sheen of perspiration, covered him from head to toe, making his bronze skin glimmer.
Ajiona's heart returned.
Bhalla scanned the arena and locked eyes with her. Again, her heart flew, but as a result of something more delicious. It would be share idiocy, to fly down to the pit and fling herself into his arms; to scold him for making her worry all the while laughing and crying and kissing him. She blushed at the thought, and instead pressed her mouth against her fingers, holding it out to him. He acknowledged the gesture with a nod and she could have sworn she saw a glimmer of a smile.