A Mauryan Adventure Read online

  They came out into an open courtyard and came to a stop before a strange circular building, decorated with brightly coloured flags fluttering in the breeze. Here many monks were lighting incense sticks and chanting mantras.

  ‘What’s this then?’ Madhura asked.

  ‘That’s a stupa.’

  Madhura stared at a structure that looked like half an egg. What was odd was that it did not have any door or windows. ‘How will we enter this temple, My Princess? There are no doors!’

  ‘Oh, there are no rooms inside.’ Sanghamitra had now begun to go round the stupa. ‘We just circle it and pray. It is sacred because the relics of Sakyamuni, the Buddha, are buried there.’

  ‘Relics?’

  ‘The relics are his sacred ashes and things that belonged to him, like his prayer beads. They are kept inside in a jewelled casket within a closed chamber.’

  It was so different from the temples that Madhura went to. They had images of gods and goddesses made of wood or earth. Here there were no images at all. In the chaitya there was another casket and carvings of the Buddha’s feet kept on a high altar, all covered in flowers. The monks sat in neat rows before the altar, swaying and chanting mantras in a low drone. Sanghamitra told her that this casket would be taken to Vidisha and put inside the new stupa there.

  Madhura and her mother sat in a corner of the hall and watched the royal women light lamps, bow and say prayers.

  ‘It is so peaceful here,’ her mother said with a sigh. ‘It is so much quieter than our temples.’

  ‘I like it too.’

  Then a young monk came and joined the queen and the princess. Madhura’s mother whispered that it was Prince Mahendra. His head was shaven, he wore saffron robes, walked barefoot and carried a string of prayer beads.

  ‘He’s so thin!’ Madhura said.

  ‘The monks eat only once a day.’

  ‘Once a day? I think I’ll go on worshipping Shiva then.’

  That evening Madhura went in search of her childhood friend Ranju. She and Ranju had grown up together in this lane that had many families of soldiers living there, and Ranju’s father had also been at Kalinga. Madhura liked spending time with the princess, but when it came to talking of all her secret plans and dreams, she only told them to Ranju. She peered into their courtyard and saw her friend spinning thread on a spindle.

  Ranju’s father had come home alive after the battle at Kalinga but he had been very badly hurt and walked with a limp. As he could no longer fight, he had become a weaver and Ranju helped him by spinning the thread. Madhura picked up another spindle and a handful of fluffy cotton and started spinning; soon the thread began to wrap around the spindle. They sat on a ledge by the door watching people go by, chatting and spinning away. Madhura told Ranju about her day.

  Ranju thought Madhura had such an exciting life. ‘You actually saw the prince? Is he handsome?’ she asked, all curious.

  ‘Well, his head is shaven and he is very thin . . .’ Madhura said doubtfully. Then she opened a knot in her uttariya and took out a leaf packet with a dozen sweets made of milk, almonds and sugar. ‘I got these for you from the vihara,’ she offered, and saw Ranju’s tired face break into a smile.

  ‘Ohhh . . . Madhu!’ and as she began to munch happily, Madhura wrapped her uttariya around Ranju’s shoulders.

  ‘This is for you. The princess gave it to me and I already have two of them.’

  ‘This is so pretty, Madhu! You know . . . all the lovely cloth that Baba weaves? I sometimes wish I could keep one piece for myself.’

  ‘I know.’ Madhura thought about the time when they were younger and her father was alive. Then she and Ranju spent all day playing hopscotch and running up and down the lane. Now they worked all day and were too tired to do anything more than chat.

  It was getting dark, so Madhura decided to head home. As she was leaving Ranju’s house she looked absently down the lane to where it joined the main road. Far away she could see the traffic of carts, palanquins and horses going past, many people walking by, and then she frowned, trying to see in the growing darkness. Kartik was standing by the corner talking to a short, fat man. Madhura had never seen this man before. It was the way they stood that made her curious. Kartik had bent his head as if the fat man was whispering to him.

  Then the two men began to walk into the lane and Madhura quickly slid behind a pillar. They went past her, absorbed in their conversation, and she slid out and followed behind. By now it was quite dark and they did not notice her. It was quiet in the lane and she could hear snatches of their conversation.

  ‘Stop at Vidisha and deliver the message to the . . .’ the fat man said.

  ‘I will . . . but I think the answer is in Ujjaini . . .’ Kartik muttered.

  ‘Be careful . . . trust no one.’

  By then they had reached the door of Madhura’s house. The fat man gave Kartik a small bundle and then hurried away. Kartik went inside, and Madhura followed a while later and joined her mother in the kitchen. Soon Kartik came in and they began talking of their day at the vihara.

  ‘You’ve had an interesting time, eh Madhu? A trip to a vihara, a big lunch, getting a basket of fruits and sweets, a new uttariya . . .’

  ‘Amma, I gave some sweets and the uttariya to Ranju.’

  ‘Good you did so!’ said her mother. ‘We get so many things from the palace and Ranju’s family has so little. Take some more fruits and vegetables tomorrow.’

  ‘And how was your day, Bhai?’ Madhura asked, trying to sound very casual while watching his face very carefully.

  ‘Oh, nothing special. I loaded the carts with the bales of cloth and I have found a caravan that is leaving soon; I’ll go with them. It is never a good idea to go alone on the highways. This way there will be at least forty carts and we are hiring some guards to ride with us.’

  ‘Is it really so dangerous Bhai?’

  ‘You never know with highway robbers; they can strike anywhere. On the highway we only travel by day, and once the sun sets we stay in a roadside inn. Luckily the king has built many shelters along the way.’

  ‘Where are the other traders going?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Oh, they are on a long journey, all the way to the sea ports in the west. They’ll be on the Dakshinapatha for months.’

  ‘Dakshi . . . what?’ Madhura frowned at him.

  Kartik grinned, ‘The road that connects Pataliputra to the ports on the west coast is called Dakshinapatha.’

  ‘Umm . . . yes of course . . . dakshina means south. So you will be moving south.’ Then she leaned forward eagerly, ‘Have you ever seen the sea, Bhai?’

  ‘Yes, when I went to the port on the eastern coast called Tamralipti. There I saw many ships too; they are much bigger than the ones we see on the Ganga River. Hundreds of men row them and they have huge sails.’ He looked gently at her dreamy face, ‘One day, I promise, I’ll take you and Amma to the seaside.’

  Late that night, a sudden sound woke up Madhura and she lay wondering what it was. She turned to see her mother asleep, but Kartik’s bed was empty. She got up and peered out of the window. Kartik was sitting in the back veranda beside a lit oil lamp, bent over an open cloth bundle. She immediately recognized it as the bundle the fat man had given him outside their house in that secretive way, looking around him nervously.

  In the moving shadows, all Madhura could see was a packet of palm leaf sheets with some script on them that Kartik began to read. Then he took out a small metal box, opened it and began to take out something that gleamed in the lamp light. Madhura gasped in surprise; he was taking out handfuls of silver coins! He then began to count them carefully, laying them out in small piles. Madhura’s eyes widened in shock. Where did Kartik get so much money from? Then he put everything back in the bundle and blew out the lamp. Very carefully, Madhura moved back into the room. Lying down she pretended to be asleep.

  3

  Getting into Trouble

  ‘Why am I wearing these old, faded clothe
s, Madhu?’

  ‘If you wear your best silks, the guards will catch you in a minute.’

  ‘But I want to look pretty in the market!’

  ‘Now take off your jewellery . . .’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Do maids wear gold anklets and bangles?’

  ‘You’re right. Faded cottons it is. Ohhh . . . I do look like a maid!’ Sanghamitra exclaimed as she looked into the mirror.

  ‘Hurry up, My Princess!’

  After Sanghamitra had finished her breakfast, and Kani had gone off, the girls were getting ready for their escape. First the princess had to change into a set of Madhura’s clothes and take off all her jewellery. Then the two of them had to get out of the room without being spotted by any of the maids. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  Madhura stuck her head out of the door, looked around and ducked back. ‘Oh, Kani is still here! She is sitting at the door of the queen’s room, cleaning rice. We can’t leave from the door; she’ll spot us.’

  ‘There is the window,’ Sanghamitra pointed.

  They clambered on to the window sill and then jumped out into a patch of grass. Madhura looked around; it was mid morning and the maids were busy in the rooms, the cooks working in the kitchen and the garland women gathering flowers in the garden. No one was about.

  ‘Quick!’ she whispered. ‘Cover your face, Princess!’ and they both raised their uttariyas to their heads and then pulled them down over their faces. The uttariyas were made of very thin and fine muslin, called mulmul, so they could see quite well through the cloth. Then holding hands, chatting away and acting very easy and casual, they walked towards the gate. Madhura’s heart was thundering in her ears as they got closer to the guards. She aimed for the side of the gate from where people were leaving.

  Then they got lucky. A vegetable seller’s bullock cart came creaking up to the gate and blocked them from the view of the guards. As the kitchen staff hurried up to collect the baskets of spinach, beans, radish, cauliflower and cabbage, the girls followed them to the cart and then quickly slipped past and walked away. The two guards, busy loading the bags of onions and carrots on the heads of the kitchen staff, did not even glance around. They were just two maids going home.

  ‘Oof!’ sighed Madhura in relief, throwing back her veil. Then she sang out excitedly, ‘We’re out, My Princess!’ and they collapsed into happy giggles.

  ‘Ohhh . . . I was so nervous my legs were shaking. My heart was thudding so hard, I thought I would faint!’ Sanghamitra liked to be very dramatic. Then she looked around, her eyes shining, ‘Where’s the market? Let’s go!’

  ‘I hope you have brought some money because I don’t have any.’

  Sanghamitra pulled out a small cloth bag that she had tucked into the waistband of her mekhala belt. She took out a handful of copper and silver pana coins. ‘This should be enough, no?’

  ‘Oh, keep the silver coins away. We won’t need so much just for food and paan; the copper panas will be more than enough.’

  ‘Oh, but I want to go shopping! I want to buy jasmine garlands, copper bangles, perfumes and a wooden box for my make-up, and . . .’

  ‘Princess, you have all those things already!’

  ‘Oh, those were all bought by my mother or Kani, and you can have them. I want to buy my own. This money is from my allowance.’

  The market was beginning to wake up with the shopkeepers opening the doors of their shops. Most of them were two-storied buildings made of bricks and whitewashed. The shops were on the ground floor facing the street and the shopkeepers lived in the rooms upstairs with their families. The men were laying out the goods, dusting the shelves, and at a jeweller’s shop a man stood praying before an earthen image of the goddess Lakshmi. Sanghamitra stopped to watch as he waved an incense stick and mumbled a mantra.

  ‘Who is he praying to?’

  ‘That’s Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth.’

  ‘I’ve seen an idol like that in my grandmother’s prayer room.’

  ‘My Lady, the Queen Mother, still prays to the old gods, does she?’

  ‘She prays to everyone. Her altar is filled with images and there is even one of the Buddha’s feet. It makes my father laugh.’

  Time just flew as they wandered from shop to shop, fingering the cloth, peering at the jewellery and sniffing at the perfumes. Then they heard the sound of drums and went running to an open space where a family of acrobats was putting on a show. A rope was tied to the end of two poles and a little boy was walking on the rope, holding a long stick, balancing and swaying. The father was playing the drum and a little girl was doing cartwheels. As the mother came by with an earthen bowl, Sanghamitra dropped some copper coins into it.

  By then they were hungry and the food was ready at the food shops. They had rice and a spicy dal; vatakas, the crunchy fried rounds of batter; vegetable fries, a brinjal dish, sweet-sour tamarind chutney and finally, bowls of shirkarini, curd sweetened with brown sugar. Then with a grin Madhura led the princess to the paan shop and the paan lady made folded betel leaf packets stuffed with spices and sliced betel nut. They walked away chewing happily, their mouths turning red with the paan juice.

  Madhura looked up at the sky and said, ‘Oh, it’s past noon! We’d better go back, My Princess. Kani will be there with your lunch any minute!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Sanghamitra looked very reluctant. ‘Can’t we stay a little longer?’

  ‘No, we can’t!’ Madhura quickly grabbed her hand and tried to drag her away from a flower shop where she wanted to buy a jasmine garland. ‘We’ll get late! Kani will catch us! Princess, pleeease . . .’

  ‘I want a garland,’ Sanghamitra said stubbornly.

  ‘I’ll make you one. Come on, let’s go!’

  ‘These garlands are nicer . . .’

  ‘I’ll bring you here again . . .’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Yes.’ By now Madhura was beginning to feel desperate and finally Sanghamitra let herself be dragged away.

  ‘I didn’t even spend all my money,’ she grumbled.

  ‘Next time! Hurry! Pull down your veil.’ And they ran towards the palace.

  ‘Oh, I had such a wonderful time! Thank you Madhu!’

  By the time the two veiled girls reached the gate of the palace, it was well past noon and there were only a few people about. Trying to walk confidently, they strolled past the guards as Madhura prayed they wouldn’t ask them to show their faces. To their relief they were waved in and were at the entrance to the courtyard that led to Sanghamitra’s chambers, when a familiar voice called behind them, ‘You two, please come with me. NOW!’

  Madhura raised her veil and stared at Kani’s grim face, her heart beginning to thud, and thought, ‘Oh lord, she followed us from the gate.’

  As the two girls stood frozen in fear, Kani asked them to follow her. ‘Princess,’ said Kani, ‘keep your face covered. I do not want to hear a word from you two.’ Her voice was shaking with anger as she marched off and they followed her.

  What she saw at the door of the princess’ chamber made Madhura’s heart sink to her feet. Her mother stood there, arms crossed, her face as dark as thunder, and her eyes were so wide with anger it made Madhura lower her head and slip past her. The girls were bundled into the room and the door was slammed shut behind them.

  ‘I caught them at the gate,’ Kani said. ‘They went out of the palace, Ganga.’

  ‘Oh, Devi Durga, help me pleeease,’ Madhura prayed. ‘Amma and Kani will surely kill me, right in front of the princess. They’ll get a soldier to come and chop off my head, that’s for sure.’

  The two women stood for a moment in grim silence, studying their scared faces. ‘Where did you go?’ Kani asked finally.

  ‘To the market . . . right there behind the palace, actually . . .’ Madhura began, as it looked like Sangamitra had gone quite dumb in shock.

  Her mother stared at her with that expressionless face that meant she was mad as hell. ‘I can see that. They’ve
even eaten paan; see their lips?’

  ‘We only had some food and paan, Amma . . . and then we came back. We went to that small bazaar just round the corner . . .’

  ‘You left the palace without telling me!’ Ganga suddenly shouted, making the girls jump in fright.

  ‘And you took the princess with you,’ Kani added. ‘Do you know what would happen if My Lady the Queen found out you two had gone out alone? Both Ganga and I would lose our jobs! I would be asked to go back to Vidisha and I’ll have to beg in the streets.’

  ‘Oh no, Amma!’ Madhura’s eyes flooded with tears. ‘I’m so sorry, Kani! I never thought . . . Tell Her Majesty to punish me, it’s all my fault!’

  Finally Sanghamitra spoke, ‘It’s not Madhu’s fault at all! If anyone has to be punished it should be me. I made her take me to the market.’

  ‘Is that true, Madhu?’ her mother asked anxiously. ‘You were only obeying the princess, were you?’

  Kani wasn’t going to allow that. ‘Don’t try to defend her, My Princess. This has to be Madhu’s idea. You were never disobedient like this till she became your companion . . . climbing trees, teasing the maids, jumping around in the lotus pool . . . now running away! Madhu makes you do it.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ Sanghamitra stood straight, her face pale, staring defiantly at Kani, ‘and if you complain to my mother that is what I’ll tell her. I made Madhu take me out to the market and she brought me back safely.’

  ‘You could have been in danger, My Princess,’ Ganga protested. ‘If someone had recognized you, they could have reported it to the king. Oh Shiva! His Majesty would have been so angry!’

  Madhura turned to Kani, ‘I will never, ever disobey you again, please don’t tell Her Highness. We need the work and my mother works so hard . . . oh please, Kani!’

  Sanghamitra joined in, ‘She’s my best friend and I love having her with me. Please Kani.’

  Finally Kani relented and said she would not tell the queen on condition that the girls promised never to disobey her. She said she was doing this only because Madhura’s mother was a good woman and did not deserve to lose her job because of a disobedient daughter. Then came a final warning: if Madhura made one more mistake it would be all over for them and they would have to leave the palace in disgrace.