Ponniyin Selvan - 1 | Fresh Floods |Chapter - 11 | Explosive Entrances

Ponniyin Selvan - 1

Fresh Floods |Chapter - 11 | Explosive Entrances

So famous these days that it has earned a place even in English

dictionaries, the Kumbakonam of today went by the name of

Kudandhai or Kudamooku at the time of our story, and was much

renowned for its temples and religious connections. In addition to

these attractions, there was the fact that our astrologer had chosen

to make it his home, as well.

A little to the south-west lay Pazhaiyarai—provisional capital of

the Chozha Empire, a magnificent sight with towers, maadams and

temple gopurams piercing the sky.

It was one of the astrologer’s missions in life to collect and

analyze the horoscope of every royal in this majestic city’s several

palaces; accordingly, the Kodumbalur Princess’s birth-chart had

made its way into his collection as well.

He gazed down at this important document for a while. He looked

keenly into Vanathi’s face. Then, he went back to gazing at the

horoscope, and again, at the young woman. But though he spent a

good many minutes switching endless gazes between palm-leaf and

princess, not a single word did he utter.

“Well, Jothidar?” asked Kundhavai, finally. “Are you ever going to

grace us with your predictions?”

“What do I say, my lady? I recall picking up this particular

horoscope once before, but was so astounded by what I saw in it

that I could not believe my eyes. I doubted that such things could

even exist. But now—when I look at both the gracious lady in

question and her birth-chart, I cannot help but gape at it!”

“Do, by all means, to your heart’s content—but will you deign to

tell us something when you’re done?”

“Ah, this is a horoscope that fairly overflows with good fortune,

my lady. If you will not mind my telling you so—it is, in several

respects, a shade better than even yours! I have never seen destiny

and fortune come together in such an excellent fashion!”

A smile appeared on Kundhavai’s face; Vanathi went pink with

embarrassment. “Akka, I don’t see how he can call this ill-fated

creature the world’s most fortunate woman! Is this how he usually

predicts anything?”

“What is this that you say, Amma? I declare—if any of my

predictions are wrong, I shall give up my profession!”

“Kindly don’t swear any such pledge, Ayya—if only to mumble a

few kind words to anyone who comes to you. Vanathi’s seized by

doubt, as all your predictions so far have been vague in the

extreme.”

“You wish for something specific, my lady? Here it is, then: four

months ago, an event happened that could have been misconstrued

as a terrible omen—but it was no such thing. In fact, that very event

laid the foundations for this fortunate damsel’s magnificent destiny!”

“There! —what did I tell you, Vanathi?” exulted Kundhavai.

“It looks like you’ve already informed him of everything that needs

to be said,” murmured that young woman.

“Would you just listen to this one’s words, Ayya?”

“Indeed, she may say whatever she pleases. When she marries

the king of kings—”

“Now that is the way to talk. What young woman wouldn’t be

delighted to learn about her marriage?”

“Precisely my opinion as well, my lady—but I could not very well

begin with marriage, could I? You would chastise me a lecherous old

man, then!”

“When and where is this gracious young lady’s husband to be

found?” queried Kundhavai. “How may we identify him? Would you

be able to predict all this?”

“Why not, Amma? All things are possible when it comes to

horoscopes!” And the astrologer bent his head studiously towards

Vanathi’s birth-chart once again. Of course, he may have just been

pretending to study it—but of that, we shall never know the truth.

Presently, he raised his head. “Ammani, the one who is to wed

this young lady does not need to come from very far away; he lives

very near her, to tell the truth. But this warrior of warriors is not in this

country at the moment—he has journeyed to a land beyond the

seas.”

Kundhavai glanced at Vanathi, who lowered her head in a bid to

contain the thrill of delight that coursed through her. She was not

very successful; her face gave away her ecstasy.

“And—? Who is he? What is his clan? Is there any way to know

from her horoscope?”

“Indeed there is. The man fortunate enough to wed this young

lady would be blessed with the lines of a conch and discus in his

palms, Amma!”

Kundhavai glanced at Vanathi again. That young woman stared

studiously, at the ground.

“In that case, wouldn’t her hands have some sort of sign too?

Lines that corresponds to his?”

“My lady, I wonder if you have ever had occasion to look at her

soles—”

“Good grief, are you suggesting that I fall at her feet?”

“No, that was not what I meant. But it is entirely true that

thousands of well-born ladies, crown princesses, queens, empresses

and others will perform penances, some day, for precisely such an

amazing honour!”

“Akka, did you really bring me here just to listen to this old man

make fun of me?” retorted Vanathi, this time, genuinely angry. “Let’s

leave, please!”

“Hush, now. Why do you fly into a rage? What does it matter what

he says—?”

“But it does, my lady. I do not forecast indiscriminately— only

what this horoscope says. You may have heard court poets sing of

“lotus feet” —and perhaps you thought they were merely soft words

of gratification. But do, if you can, look at this young woman’s soles.

You will find the lines of a red lotus adorning them.”

“Enough, Jothidar! Any more and she might grab my hands and

drag me from here by sheer force of will. Do tell us something now,

about her husband.”

“Ah, certainly! The man who weds this damsel is a warrior among

warriors; he will meet his enemies face to face, and destroy them in

a hundred battles. Vaagai garlands of victory will descend upon his

neck by the dozens, and he will be an Emperor among Emperors.

Thousands of kings will lay their heads at his feet, and he will rule

from his bejeweled throne for years—”

“I don’t believe you,” put in Kundhavai, her face a tumultuous

blend of eagerness, delight, doubt and concern. “How can this ever

come to pass?”

“He’s just rattling off the first thing that comes into his head,”

interjected Vanathi. “Perhaps he believes these predictions will make

you happy.”

“Your disbelief does not matter in the least, Amma. One day, you

will realize the truth of my predictions. All I ask is that when that time

comes, kindly do not forget this poor astrologer—”

“Akka—shall we leave?” Tears trembled on the lashes of

Vanathi’s dark eyes.

“Just a moment—you may do so, once I have told you this: the

warrior who weds this princess is about to face a great many

dangers and untold disasters. He will incur the ire of powerful

enemies—”

“Ayyo!”

“But in the end, every single one of his foes will be defeated;

every calamity will dissipate like dust in the wind. This young lady’s

prince will vanquish all obstacles and ascend to greatness unheard

of, among men. My lady—do not take offense at what I am about to

tell you; I am an old man, and believe I have the right denied to

youth. Do, please, observe this young woman’s abdomen, if you can.

And if you do not find the lines of an aal leaf in it, I swear I shall give

up my profession!”

“What is its significance?”

“Do we not know the Lord who rests on a banyan leaf, my lady?

The Kodumbalur princess is truly blessed; she is to have the honour

of giving birth to a boy who will be the image of Thirumaal Himself.

Her husband might be burdened with obstacles, catastrophes and

disasters but her son—ah! He shall be the very incarnation of God

on earth! Nothing shall be beyond him. Everything he touches will

turn to gold; he shall own and rule all the lands on which he sets

foot; the tiger flag will flutter gloriously, wherever he casts his sight.

The young man borne of this princess will lead armies that flow over

countries in vast numbers, just as the Ponni overflows its banks and

washes over the land. Goddess Jayalakshmi, Divine Benefactor of

the Victorious, will bow to him with respect; his will be the hand that

brings prosperity and fame to this land; this empire will know its

greatest glory under his magnificent reign; the Chozha dynasty will

be renowned all over the three worlds—and he will be the reason for

its magnificence—!”

Kundhavai sat opposite him all this while, her eyes burning into

his, drinking in the astrologer’s every fervent word as though her life

depended on it.

A feeble voice brought her back to earth. “Akka?”

Kundhavai turned, startled.

“I—I don’t feel—I can’t—” Vanathi stuttered, and crumpled to the

floor, unconscious.

Kundhavai sat up briskly. “Ayya, some water, if you please.” She

raised Vanathi and settled her in her lap. The astrologer duly arrived

with water; IlaiyaPiratti received it, and sprinkled a few drops on her

companion’s face.

“Nothing to worry, Amma,” reassured the astrologer.

“Indeed. She’s been making a habit of fainting away—it’s been

five or six times already. Mark my words: she’ll wake up in a few

moments, and ask me if we’re on earth or Kailasam!”

Then, she turned her attention to him—and her voice went very

low. “I came here, Ayya, to consult you about something important.

I’ve been hearing disturbing talk among people, lately; towns and

cities are full of news that upsets me. I see a comet in the sky too,

these days—do such omens have any import? Will they truly spell

calamity for the empire? Perhaps—perhaps ill fortune truly is upon

us?”

“My lady, kindly do not ask me about empires, affairs of state or

kingly dominions. Such things do not possess horoscopes; neither

do they lend themselves to forecasts. Perhaps the only men who can

divine their futures are sages, saints and other yogis with the power

to predict such things. I am but a poor astrologer with meager

resources; such things are beyond me. Stars, charts, planets and

moon become powerless before the might of an empire and its

machinations …”

“How very diplomatic, Ayya. Cleverly phrased, too. Predicting an

empire’s future might be beyond your meager means—but surely not

those of my father and brothers? Divining their futures would be the

same as divining the empire’s, wouldn’t it?”

“Certainly, Amma, but that is a task for another day. In general,

these are hazardous times for all, filled with confusion and danger. It

would serve us well to exercise great caution.”

“My father’s move from Pazhaiyarai to Thanjavur worries me

greatly.”

“I said this before, Amma; a great adversity is about to befall the

Maharaja—indeed, these are trying times for everyone in your family.

They will face the gravest dangers. By Goddess Durga’s grace,

though, every single stroke of ill fortune shall dissipate, and the fates

will smile again.”

A frail voice reached them, at that moment. “Akka? Where are

we?” Vanathi gazed up from where she lay in Kundhavai’s lap, eyes

wide, like a flower unfurling its delicate petals, lids fluttering like a

bird’s.

“My heart’s dearest! The celestial PushpakaVimanam hasn’t

arrived to whisk us to heaven, unfortunately; we’re doomed to be on

earth for a while; more’s the pity. Do get up, now—we’ll have to do

with our own paltry chariot and horses, to return to the palace.”

Vanathi sat up slowly. “Did I faint?”

“Certainly not, my love. You simply decided to take a nap in my

lap for a while. I even sang a lullaby—didn’t the lilting notes fall on

your charming ears?”

“Pray—pray don’t be angry, Akka. I couldn’t help myself. My head

spun so—”

“I’m not surprised your head spun a pretty dance—mine would

have too, if this wily astrologer had rattled off such dazzling

predictions to me.”

“Dazzling predictions—Akka, you don’t really think I’d believe

such things, do you?”

“Regardless of what you believe, my dear, you did succeed in

frightening him out of his wits! I’ve decided never to take such a little

coward anywhere, ever again—”

“I did tell you that I didn’t want to come here, Akka. But you said

–”

“My fault, of course. Now, get up. Will my lady take a few steps to

the front door—or must I tuck you onto my hip?”

“Oh, no, please! I can walk by myself.”

“Just a moment, Amma. Kindly accept Devi’s prasadham before

you leave.” The astrologer began to gather his palm-leaves and tie

them up.

“Jothidar, you’ve predicted so much about me—but you haven’t

said anything about Akka’s future,” spoke up Vanathi.

“Amma, I have forecast hers, as well. Besides, there is nothing I

can tell IlaiyaPiratti that she does not already know. What more?”

“The warrior of warriors who is to wed Akka—”

“A Nightmare to Foes!” cut in Kundhavai. “An asakaayasoorar—”

“And why not? Of course he would be the greatest of them all, a

paraakramasaali; a mighty prince who is—”

“—so handsome that he’s the embodiment of all thirty-two

aspects of the SaamudhrikaLakshanam; rivals Brihaspathi in brains,

equals Saraswathi in arts; would compete with Manmadhan for his

looks—wait, no, Arjunan!”

“IlaiyaPiratti’s prince, this sukumaarar is to come soon, isn’t he?”

asked Vanathi eagerly. “When? And where will he be from?”

“Indeed, he will arrive, my lady. Very, very soon.”

“Ah, but the question is—how will he make his superb entrance?

Will he stomp in on an elephant? Trot in on a horse? Clatter by in a

chariot? Tramp by on foot?” quipped Kundhavai, gaily. “Or simply

crash through the roof like a God and reveal his divine presence?”

“There —! I can hear hooves!” exclaimed Vanathi.

“Such excellent faculties, my dear, to catch something that

doesn’t exist.”

“I’m not teasing you, Akka—do listen!”

And indeed, they did hear hooves clattering along the street at a

furious pace.

“What of it? This is Kudandhai city, after all; horses must be

commonplace on the streets,” explained Kundhavai.

“No Akka—I believe this one’s coming here!”

“You and your silly fantasies. Get up now; time to leave.”

Precisely at this moment, a clamour of voices reached them from

the entrance. A fierce altercation seemed to be in progress,

interspersed with shouts and a cacophony of sounds.

“This is the astrologer’s home, isn’t it?”

“Yes—and you are?”

“Is he in?”

“You can’t enter right now.”

“I will.”

“I won’t let you.”

“I must see the astrologer.”

“Later.”

“I have no time for later—I will see him now!”

“Dei—dei—stop! Stop at once!”

“Shoo! Get away—or I’ll mow you down—!”

“Ayya, please do not enter the house! Please do not—!”

Dadaar! The door was flung open with a crash. A young man

made an explosive entrance into the room. Another was almost at

heels, catching him by his shoulders in a vain bid to pull him away.

The young man wrenched himself from the latter and took a forceful

step across the threshold, and into the room.

Our readers may have guessed the identity of this intrepid

youngster by now—it was, indeed, our valiant Vandhiyathevan.

The eyes of all three within the room, focused themselves on the

new entrant at once.

Vandhiyathevan, in turn, directed his attention on those within.

No, that would not be quite correct. His eyes fastened onto only one

person in the room—and even then, he did not quite manage to see

Princess Kundhavai all at once.

He took in her fair countenance, radiant as the golden full moon.

Ah, but not even all her face at the same time! He saw her lips,

gleaming red corals, parted slightly in surprise; he saw her eyes—

large, brilliant and brimming with laughter, mischief, astonishment

and yes, the aura of majesty that pervaded her; every perfect

eyelash, and brows that curved gently over them; the forehead,

delicately tinted in ivory; rosy cheeks, dimpling in a smile; a slender

neck, with the silken smoothness of a conch, translucent in its

beauty.

He saw all these at the same, as separate images. And that was

how they fixed themselves in his mind, as well—with startling,

brilliant clarity.

All this had happened within the space of a few seconds. Now,

Vandhiyathevan seemed to shake himself, and turned to glare at the

astrologer’s disciple. “Why, you little—why couldn’t you have warned

me that there were females inside—! I wouldn’t have barged in if I’d

known –” and he pushed away the man almost roughly, retreating in

some confusion towards the entrance.

He did, however, seize the opportunity of darting one last glance

at Kundhavai, before he left.

“Good grief—it sounds as though a tempest had just wrecked its

havoc and blown itself out,” sighed the princess.

“Not yet—do listen,” pointed out Vanathi.

Vandhiyathevan, it seemed, was still locked in a fierce verbal duel

with the disciple.

“Ayya, who might this be?” asked Kundhavai.

“I do not know, my lady. He does not seem to be from these

parts. Looks to be quite a ruffian too.”

Abruptly, Kundhavai seemed to recall something—and went into

merry peals of laughter.

“Why do you laugh, Akka?”

“If you must know, I remembered what we’d been discussing

about my future husband and his entry—if he would stomp by in an

elephant, come in a horse, or drop through the roof!”

This time, Vanathi was hard put to control her laughter as well.

Their collective mirth rang through the hall, flowing in merry

waves through the doorway, and drowned the argument outside.

The astrologer seemed lost in thought, as he provided the

princesses with kungumam.

The ladies rose, took their leave, and walked out of the house;

the astrologer followed.

Vandhiyathevan, who moved aside the moment they appeared

upon the entrance, snatched the chance to explain his behaviour.

“My apologies,” he announced, in a loud voice. “I did not realize that

there were ladies within—this idiot never thought to mention it. Had I

known, I would never have made such a hasty entrance—I

apologize, once again!”

Kundhavai glanced up at him, face alight with good humour.

Mischief and laughter mingled with a certain undeniable dignity, in

her expressive eyes. She spoke not a word but took one of Vanathi’s

hands instead, and walked towards the chariot, under the banyan

tree.

“Kudandhai’s womenfolk don’t seem to have a smidgen of

manners,” Vandhiyathevan’s loud complaint floated towards them,

from a distance. “Not even a pleasant word to a man who takes the

effort to speak to them? Terrible!”

The charioteer stood in readiness, having harnessed his horses.

The princesses climbed into the radham; he took his place at the

front. The equipage sped away, towards the banks of the Arisilaaru.

Vandhiyathevan stood watching the chariot, until it vanished into

the distance.