Eddies of Memory

EDDIES OF MEMORY
(A Short Story)

By K. CHANDRASEKHARAN

(Rendered from Tamil by the Author)

“Madam...Lady!”

The maid tried to draw the attention of Hamsapadika who was lost in the sweet strains of the veena.

How could Hamsapadika hear her? Was she not transported to a different world altogether? Was she really enjoying with closed eye-lids the dying echoes of a song that had just finished while her fingers still thrummed the wires, or was she unconscious of the tear-drops that had rolled down, her cheeks and fallen on the strings only to get scattered? The wetness caused to the wires of the veena disturbed the Sruti of the manipulated strings and in a trice she had come to her own surroundings.

“What, Lady! This is not practising of music! You are totally lost in the Swara-Moorchanas.” Rupavati, mischievously glancing at her, thus awakened her from the dreamland of sounds.

“Yes, you will say this and more. You are becoming too impertinent with the indulgence of the Court. You may not even care for proprieties of any kind as to what and whom you should address.” Her voice betrayed a severity of tone.

Rupavati became solemn and silent at once in her attempt to show her regard to Hamsapadika. “No, Lady, I was not quite myself in my eagerness to communicate to you an interesting piece of news. I own I exceeded my bounds. Long familiarity has been responsible for my extra haste in trying to bring you early information of things happening in the palace. I blurt out what I ought not to, being anxious to let you have from me in person every fresh item of gossip, hardly noticing the time and occasion for it. Pray, forgive me; I shall choose another time,” she said and turned away.

Hamsapadika could perceive that Rupavati was only pretending to be serious to regain balance. But she became curious also to know what exactly could be the special type of tidings she had brought her. With sharp words, she prevented Rupavati from proceeding to leave her presence: “Well, do you imagine I have the same avidity for gossip as yourself? Let me assure you that I remain uninterested in the world outside, keeping company as I do with my veena and my music lessons. What do I care about things happening to others? How do you expect me then to imagine the cause of your haste and extend you a hearty welcome? I could anticipate this and worse for myself in the palace. You are all in the service of Queen Vasumati and it is natural, therefore, for you to be lacking in sympathy for me.”

Rupavati was not prepared for this. She had indulged her usual mischievous pranks only to draw Hamsapadika forcibly to herself. Otherwise, hardly was she inclined to cause the least pain to Hamsapadika, and hence she rose and caught both the hands of Hamsapadika and interlocking them in hers, burst out: “Ah! How have you spoken, dear Lady! Am I the creature that you have described? God be witness to my unsullied conscience! Because I was sure the important event of the day in the palace might not have reached your ears, I came running to you. Are there any others here, apart from me, having a right to share your joys and sorrows?” she gasped for words.

Hamsapadika gently removed the veena from her lap and holding Rupavati’s chin in her palm in the attempt to turn her face towards herself, exclaimed, “Dear friend, how intolerably impatient have I become! Don’t you know how much I suffer here? Alas, I am at a loss to understand the King’s latest attitudes. Why should fate have plunged me in this darkness? What have I in particular against you? No, nothing at all. Pray, give me quick the news which you wanted me to learn. Pity, we quarrel frequently without reason.”

Rupavati took a seat near Hamsapadika and began her tale: “This morning, before the King came out to occupy his seat in the Council Chamber, two young Rishis from the forest, accompanied by an old dame as well as a beautiful maiden, arrived at the gates. Knowing of their presence, the King ordered the Pratihari to usher them in without any delay. The persons who came belong to the ashrama of Kasyapa. The lovely damsel is Kanva’s foster-daughter named Sakuntala. The news that she was taken here to be left with the King threw him into a great astonishment. He closed his ears when it was mentioned to him that he had secretly wed the maiden in the forest. At this behaviour of the King, the two foresters emitted fire from their eyes. They charged the King with having behaved in a manner unworthy of a ruler of his eminence.” Rupavati stopped here. She had noticed a strange new light in Hamsapadika’s eyes.

“Why have you stopped? Please go on,” said Hamsapadika unable to bear her anguish. Rupavati was fully aware of Hamsapadika’s sensitiveness. So she began again slowly: “The dame who had accompanied the party wanted the younger one to remove the veil from her face so that the King could have a gaze at her and feel tempted, evidently. But that proved a failure. For the King evinced neither curiosity nor pleasure in looking at her loveliness. His eyes instinctively avoided watching the face of another’s wife. Nevertheless, she was not without resource; for Soon she made attempts as if to reveal some token of memory and further pretended even to be distressed at not finding a ring supposed to have been worn by her as a gift of the King to her in the forest.” Another pause intervened in the narration. But Hamsapadika in the meanwhile sighed and cried, “Oh, why do you stop? Go on, please.”

“What is there further to add? She made all attempts to relate some imaginary episodes connected with the King. But is the King so very gullible as all that? So he refuted them outright,” said she.

Hamsapadika’s mind was travelling far far away from the present and listlessly she asked again, “Rupa, what story did she weave out of her imagination? May I have it?”

“So, you require it. Let me then regale you with it. Once, it seems, the King had met her when he, hunted in the forest. He became infatuated with her and came often to where she was. On a particular day a deer-pet of hers walked into an arbour of creepers while they were together and closely stuck to her side. However much the King tried to wean it away from her side, it refused to budge an inch. Then the King made a cup of forest leaves and extended to it water contained therein. Still the deer made no move towards him. Thereupon Sakuntala took the leafy cup in her band and showed it to the deer encircling it with one of her arms, when eagerly it drank of its contents. The King is reported by her to have exclaimed: ‘well, this is quite in keeping with you: for both of you together have been born and bred up in the same forest. There is hardly occasion to feel surprised at it. The deer and the deer-eyed one cannot but associate with each other so intimately.’ New tell me how you like her fancies? Are we not used to such situations and love-scenes in romances?” and Rupavati laughed in derision.

But Hamsapadika did not join in the laughter. Her memory was caught in a whirl. For she remembered a similar occasion in her own life. But why should it torment her now? Yes, there was reason for it. She shook the shoulders of Rupavati with her hand and said: “The tale narrated by the unfortunate girl may be true. I can believe it. No wonder a love-stricken person always talks like this and even more strangely. I can myself bear witness to such things having occurred, and you will then believe them.” Her voice was spoken with feeling. She began to reflect as to what she should convey to her friend.

“I have forgotten to cover the veena with its cloak. I shall do it and return presently,” she said, and stuffed the veena in its cover. She placed it safe in its corner and came , bringing with her a many-coloured parrot from a golden cage. The parrot got on her and perched on one of her arms. “Durree, durree”; the bird’s language evoked her smile. She patted it and said: “Well, wait, my dear. Your tale of woe is also mine. Your sad history and mine together will last till eternity.” The bird in answer fluttered its wings and spread them fanlike awhile. “Sister, sister,” the bird began in its usual way of addressing her. Rupavati went to it and tried to fondle and stroke its feathery , but it pecked fiercely at her fingers which she withdrew as quickly as she extended them. Hamsapadika gently moved her soft fingers on its wings and gazed at their blueness blending with the ruby on its breast.

“Listen, Rupa, to what my memories conjure up for me. It was just as it is today. Dark deep clouds massed in the east and spread fast over the entire sky, only to pour down in torrential rain. A veritable deluge seemed coming on us. But our strong fortress remained four-square to all the storm and rain. For the fortress was hewn out of granite and natural boulders of a mountain side. Yes, I failed to mention one significant matter; my father was then away on a friendly visit to a neighbouring chieftain. He did not return in time. I was then a maiden of eighteen years and was left in the care of an elderly matron named Sujata. The fortress was ever guarded with utter strictness and a General, Ranadhir by name, kept vigils over it day and night with his men.

It happened one day–just when the rains were heavy–two persons, storm-beaten and totally bereft of the means of further progress on their journey, were stranded at the gates of the fortress. They craved shelter inside. But from their attire and behaviour, the General suspected that they belonged to the enemy’s staff set to spy, and he refused them admission into the interior of the fort, despite the driving rain and bad weather outside. My nurse hurried to me with the news that one of the men had fainted with fatigue. Why was I overcome by a feeling of tenderness? Had I not then entertained sympathy and genuine kindness in my heart, I might have escaped the tortures of today. I left the nurse in my place and in her disguise reached the outer gates without the General knowing of it. It was indeed a fact that one of the two strangers–a Brahmin from what his face revealed–was lyingon the ground unconscious. The other was actually supporting his body on his broad chest, and finding me standing there, looked with such overpowering dignity that I could not stand the gaze and dropped my eye-lids.

I became powerless. Without much ado, the youth asked me: “Have you caged in your castle wild beasts? Or have you also here human beings?” My face having indicated a big question-mark he started again, saying “I am only wondering why you deny shelter to a man completely frigid of limbs in the biting cold and rain. Certainly you need no assurance for your safety from enemies, possessing, as you do a fortress of solid granite and a heart as hard as the very rock itself. Maybe hereafter your danger will only be from God and not from any human enemy.”

My heart sank within me. “Please do come in; but may I know who you both are?” said I. “Certainly I’ll tell you; but before everything else, let my friend who is in a bad condition receive instantaneous attention and a bed to lie on. A fire also must be made for him to get warm,” said the handsome young man. His voice bore the traces of natural power and authority. I made signs to my servants around to make ready a bed in my own inner apartment and cautioned them not to let out the information to anyone else.

I now know that what I did then was born of temerity. Fate never forsakes its creatures. Madhavya, the King’s confidante, was the friend who became paralysed with cold that day. But the other called himself one of the commanders of the infantry of the Emperor Dushyanta. They had lost their way owing to the storm, and rain and perforce separated from their friends of the army.

Madhavya regained normal health in two days. But the attention and care his friend bestowed on him cannot be described in words. For the retinue of attendants in the fortress of Bhairavi confessed to never having witnessed such genuine affection and sacrifice for a friend, in any other person known to them.

On the third morning, I took my parrot on my hand feeding it with fruits, and entered the chamber where the two friends were quartered. My surprise was evident because instead of Madhavya his friend was in his bed, alone. Yes, perfection of human form seemed incarnated there. He struck me not only by the broad chest, the curly locks round his neck and his waist of proportionate size, but by his commanding mien. Hearing the parrot’s chirping sounds he raised himself in bed and beamed a smile welcoming me and the parrot on my wrist. How bell-like rang his laughter! My courage left me. Why did I secretly harbour them without the General of our fortress having any inkling of it? Alas! I forgot to save myself while trying to save others.

My lips moved in an attempt to speak out the words: “What has happened to your associate?” but actually not even a syllable escaped me. He should have guessed as much from the movement of my lips, for the next moment he uttered. “Should you know it? If you will not mistake me. I shall give you information. My friend must have gone a fair distance now from this place. I have sent him to bring our steeds. Well, everything has taken place in utter secrecy. But you may wonder why I did not accompany him. You are the cause for my stay. I felt without taking leave of you I could not go away from here. I am a prisoner in your hands. If only you could protect me for another half-a-day as you have done these two or three days, I shall ever cherish you in my heart.”

The sweetness which the last words kept in store for me, made me feel intoxicated and reel under its strange sensation. My face should have got flushed with embarrassment and confusion. For he at once remarked, “What a coincidence of colour in your face and the parrot there!” I was speechless with a surge in my heart. Without understanding what I expressed, I said, “Should you go now?”

“I have my State duties. Many of them may be awaiting my arrival to be completed,” he said without returning glances.

“No, why don’t you stay till my father returns?” I said in mounting confusion. He burst out laughing. I collapsed with shame. Not being able to stand, I tried to sit on the floor.

He rose quickly from where he sat and induced me to get on to the bed where he was seated, as the floor was very cold. “Why is your palm also so very cold?” he remarked, as he took hold of my hand in the act of leading me on to the bedstead.

My parrot stared at him with its round, protruding eyes. I failed to notice it then. For my mind was storm-tossed just then.

The fruits which I had in my hand to feed the parrot with, got scattered on the ground. Before I could gather them up, he had a few in his palm and took them near the bird’s beak. My parrot was evidently cross. It refused to touch them. And it was slowly moving away also on my shoulder. “Both of you are of the same type, prisoners, not knowing what it is to be free and familiar of spirit,” he said looking askance at me.

I followed his meaning. Further my flushed countenance should have betrayed me to him. He suddenly snatched my hand and, looking straight into my eyes, said, “How glorious! The red on your cheeks vies with that of the parrot’s breast.”

The next minute the parrot screamed ferociously, jumped on him and began biting his hand. “Oh, what jealousy; look at your parrot! I must not touch you, is that so?” said he and withdrew his fingers.

I was really wild with anger at my parrot. “Get out,” said I in disgust and tried to force it away from the place. But it would not leave us but clapped its wings in the act of hopping round him, and gave us a lot of trouble.

By this time my father had returned from his mission and the news reached me in our apartments. Even as I was preparing to go to him, he of his own accord entered my chamber. It was a very embarrassing situation for all. But the moment he saw the stranger, he showed signs of recognition by his deep obeisance and greeted him with “Hail, Emperor Dushyanta!”

My heart missed some beats. I was utterly disturbed in mind. My father apologised for me thus: “She is only a child yet; she can hardly comprehend what you are and hence may have failed to treat you with the respect due to a monarch.”

The reply from him startled me out of my wits. “Well, I received all due courtesies from her. She attempted to injure my fingers with the aid of her parrot. I escaped with only minor injuries,” he said and turned to me with a significant smile.

As my father examined the King’s fingers with great trepidation and concern, the bird in its turn started talking and giving out every detail of the conversation between us just before the arrival of my father. Nothing was omitted by it, as it went on divulging all that it had learn by rote. I was greatly perplexed. He also looked confused. My father alone remained unaffected.

“Good luck that none else made bold to touch her. For, were it otherwise, I should have forthwith punished the intruder with dire consequences. But let me now join the two hands which had been sundered by the parrot.” So saying my father took our hands and placing them in each other, blessed us both.

The parrot was soon caged. Poor thing, it began fiercely to bite the cage bars and make such a noise fluttering its wings against the imprisoning cage. Its beak lost a tip. You can see it even now.

My Aryaputra, taking my hand in his, said: “Let us take your pet also to Hastinapur. Let him jealously guard you there,” and looked sharply at the parrot.

“Durree, durree,” the bird became hoarse with its frantic cries. But really this is a wicked one; jealousy incarnate!

Rupa, my Lord should have betrayed Sakuntala in the same way as he has done me. But doubtless a vast difference exists between us. He has rejected her in the presence of the entire Court while he has kept me, as something precious, from the sight of all.

The voice of Hamsapadika was choking with emotion. Rupavati stared at the parrot and remarked, “True, it is a jealous creature. It has learnt it all by moving so closely with you for long. For you yourself have not one single expression of sympathy or kindness to the unfortunate Sakuntala.”

“Enough of your garrulousness and impertinence,” reprimanded Hamsapadika, and added, “Go and find out how the King is, whether he is still in a mood of recollection. But...but...why should he remember the old times? Recollections are for me. Let him rejoice in his new adventures!

Rupavati left the place. Hamsapadika took out the veena from its cover and placing it gently on her lap began to thrum it softly. The sounds of the strings pervaded everywhere around. She played again the pallavi of the song she had finished before. Either because of deliberate intent or unawares, from her heart, a sense of deep sorrow swelled in the song. But no tears accompanied it. Who has not been moved by the deep sorrow of a song without tears? And who has remained without memories revived at the touching note of music?

Dushyanta was found walking slowly near the harem of his Queen. Was he also affected by the music? The King passed through an inward struggle, with memories revived by the sweet sorrowfulness of the lingering strain.