THE CHANGING SEASONS

Supratik, the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The officer supervising the operation turned around and saluted his commander immediately. Supratik returned the salute and treaded cautiously towards the slippery slope of the Shipra.

‘It’s a lady, sir, around twenty to twenty-five years of age, must have belonged to an aristocratic family, sir’, the supervising officer started his brief, as he followed Supratik around, closely. The upturned body now lay on the sandy embankment. Black hair matted with wet clay from the water covered her naked shoulders and her back. Two men from the police force were in the process of turning her face up. Her diamond nose-pin glittered in the sun. Her orange red choli and dhoti were wet and dirty from the dirt and muck, but in place. ‘Apparently there are no wounds or marks on the body’, the officer continued.

Moonlight flooded the white terrace of the palace. It spilled through the lattice work on the boundary wall on the terrace, forming intricate patterns. It flowed from the trellis of the Madhvilata vine, which wound its way up the pillars to the small temple of Shiva on the corner of the terrace, where Mahadev was seated in eternal trance. It cascaded down the black hair of the Mahadevi and swept up to her white, lotus petal like toes, who was seated on a marble pedestal, supported by four lotuses. Her regal face bore a mark of anxiety as her friend and confidante Madhavsena was ailing and unwell and indisposed for the past few days. In addition to that, her husband, Maharajadhiraj was away, fighting the Kshatrap Rudrasimha. Word was on its way, that their victory was imminent. However, she could not stop worrying till, she was wrapped securely in her Chandra’s arms. The administration of the kingdom was de facto in the hands of the wise Mahamantri Dasrath Sharma, who was the principal advisor to Maharaj Chandragupta Vikramaditya.

The palace and all its female occupants were under the care and control of the Mahadevi, the queen, Dhruvasvamini, and their well being was topmost on her mind. One of her hand-maidens, bowed and stood before her, waiting for her permission to speak. ‘yes! Speak up, Mitra’, the Mahadevi, Dhruvasvamini said. ‘Mahamantriji, seeks your audience, Mahadevi’, Mitra uttered. Mahadevi Dhruvasvamini, looked upon Dasrath Sharma as a father figure. From the time, she had set foot in this household, five years back. Dasrath Sharma was a very kind and benevolent man, and the Mahadevi, accorded him with a lot of respect. She quickly walked down to the audience room, where, the Mahamantri, stood up and bowed. ‘Mahadevi, I bring some ominous news’ he uttered. ‘I was informed by the chief of the police forces, Supratik, that a body of a royal lady had been fished out from the Shipra river, near the Mahakal temple. Upon further enquiry, the identity of the body has been established and it seems that it is the body of Chitra, the chief maiden of Madhavsena.’ ‘But you must be mistaken, Mahamantriji’ retorted Dhruvasvamini, her face aghast. I spoke to her only yesterday night when I had been to Madhavsena’s quarters.” Mahamantri, kept his head bowed and kep silent. Mahadevi, clapped for Mitra and asked her to bring Chitra to the audience room. But Chitra was nowhere to be found even after multiple searches by the ladies in waiting.

Mahadevi, slowly sank down to a settee. She looked up blankly to the Mahamantri. ‘The body has been sent for autopsy, but apparently there does not seem to be any mark on the body, excepting for a very small cut mark near the neck’, Dasrath ji added. ‘Mahadeviji, I ask you to keep your eyes and ears open, something here is not right.’ ‘How is Madhavsenaji, doing now?’ The aged man enquired…are the Ayurvedacharya’s medicines, reaching the palace on time, regularly, Mahadevi?’ Dhruvasvamini, nodded in assent.

Mahadevi Dhruvasvamini was in a pensive mood, as she sat on her bed. Madhavsena was her friend, from childhood, when she was the princess of a small principality in Saket. Madhavi, as Dhruvadevi, fondly called her friend was like a sister to her, and she was very sick and not responding to medicines by the ayurvedacharya. Her fever was not subsiding and she had stopped taking any food for the past couple of days.

Dhruvadevi, was alone in the half-lit rooma, the aroma of nagchampa incense swathed her chamber. Despite the cool, air from the balcony, she tossed in her bed. She went back to her childhood, and the images that came to her seemed larger than life.

Madhavi holding her hand as they are running across yellow mustard fields…Madhavi and Dhruva, worshipping the Rudra on Mahashivratri…Madhavi, eyes red, after Dhruva is delirious in fever after a bee has stung her…Maharaj Samudragupta asking for Dhruva’s hand in marriage to his son, the crown prince Ramagupta, after seeing her practicing archery, when he had stayed for a night in their palace on his way to Magadha…Madhavi accompanying her to her new home in Ujjain, never leaving the young, timid bride’s side as Dhruvadevi accompanied the young and dashing Ramagupta to Ujjain. All the pictures were so vivid. The first few months of marriage were like a dream. Ramagupta was besotted with his new wife. Those months were months of romantic balladry. The cruises down Shipra, on moonlit nights, the evenings filled with musical soirees by eminent musicians, the gems from Ceylon, for her, new jewelleries for the new queen each day, hunting trips to the nearby Pradesh. Life was moving in a whirl for Dhruva until one day, when life left her grounded again. Through the fine mesh curtains of her bedroom, in the warm yellow clay lamp lights, in the same aroma of Nag Champa, Madhavi’s lean naked body was wrapped inside Maharaj Ramagupta’s embrace, as their lips hungrily seeked each other’s. Dhruva’s tears flowed down her face for the entire night.

The next morning, she was a different person altogether. Life had given her the first lesson about the changing seasons of life.

Memories of that fateful day sharply invaded her string of thoughts. Ramagupta, Dhruvasvamini accompanied by the king’s younger brother Chandragupta had set out for mrigaya, a hunting trip. They had strayed into a deep jungle near Ujjain, when they ran into a small army of Rudrasimha, the Kshatrap king. The realised that they had strayed into enemy territories. The Kshatraps were Sakas whose power and authority were in the wane and they had suffered many a defeat in the hands of Samudragupta. They were more in number and circled the small band of hunters. The Kshatrap king Rudrasimha was smitten by the beauty of Dhruvadevi and offered to grant the entire Gupta hunting party a safe passage, only if they left Dhruvadevi behind. Dhruva’s eyes glowed like amber in the dark, as she remembered Ramagupta, her husband, the custodian of her pride and security, give in to Rudrasimha’s demand without even batting an eyelid. The only person who protested was Chandragupta, her brother-in-law, but his voice was not heard by Ramagupta. That night, when Dhruva was being decked by the Kshatrap women to be taken to Rudrasimha’s tent, Dhruva’s tent was invaded by Chandragupta and a few of his closest aides. The held the Kshatrap women prisoner and asked Dhruvadevi to sit quietly in her tent in the dark. Meanwhile, Chandragupta, dressed up in Dhruva’s attire, left for Rudrasimha’s tent and killed him there. The Kshatraps were without a leader and put up a sordid defence, which Chandragupta won with ease.

Back home, in Ujjain, Dhruvadevi still remembered her disgust and the sickening feeling when Ramagupta tried to get intimate with her without even the slightest of remorse. ‘I am your husband and your body is mine, either by your will or by my force’ Ramagupta retaliated when she tried to push him back. That was when she asked to see her father-in-law, Maharaja Samudragupta.

The memories were like a cascade now…one after the other, they came to the sleepless eyes of the Mahadevi. ‘I do not consider your son, Ramagupta, as my lawful husband anymore, Maharajadhiraj’ Dhruvadevi spoke out to Maharaj Samudragupta, in his court. There was pin-drop silence, as the nobles waited for the fateful declaration of death sentence from the Maharaj’s lips. However, to everyone’s surprise, and to Ramagupta’s consternation, Maharaj Samudragupta, granted Dhruvadevi a chance to argue her case as to how and why the marriage should be nullified. In an unquavering voice, Dhruva, pointed out, that according to the dictums laid out by the Mahamati Chanakya, a wife could nullify a marriage on five counts, for five reasons, one amongst them being, if her husband deserted her. Since her husband had left her in the hands of the enemy, their marriage had dissolved that very day, as Ramagupta had given her up. She further declared, that she did not wish to continue with her marital vows and desired freedom from this bondage, which did not have her soul sanction anymore.

Samudragupta, being the man that he was, listened to both sides of the argument, not only granted annulment of the marriage to her, but also asked for her forgiveness, on behalf of his coward son and requested Dhruva to stay on in Ujjain, not as Ramagupta’s wife, but as a princess of Ujjain, as Samudragupta’s daughter.

The curtains of her memory rose to the day, when she became fatherless, after the passing away of Maharaj Samudragupta. Ramagupta was to ascend the throne, and fearing for her security, dignity and life, Dhruvadevi, requested, Chandragupta to accompany her to Saket, her paternal home. As plans were afoot for the royal escape, Ramagupta came to her room one night and claimed her by force. She is brutalised by him. The next day as she lies in pain, her entire body aching, she contemplates ending her own life after suffering such indignity. Madhavi comes to her chamber and sits down beside her after a very long time, applying balm on her bruises. In the past year Madhavsena had gained a lot of importance in the royal household, owing to her proximity to Ramagupta. Dhruva looks up startled when a drop of warm water falls on her face. Madhavsena was crying, just like old times, at her pain. The two friends, hug each other and cry their heart out. Their hearts which had drifted, comes back together to forge an even stronger bond.

The curtains raise again, as Chandragupta stands with his head bowed in front of Dhruvadevi. ‘I consider this my personal shame, Devi! I shall surely avenge this insult’. Chandragupta is stooping down on his knees, crying. As Dhruva holds his hand, Chandragupta asks her, if she would accept him as her husband. The glow of that memory, blinded all the dark spots that her life had harboured till then.

Shift to next scene, crown prince Ramagupta is found dead in his room a few days after the death of Samudragupta. There are no bruises or wounds on his body, excepting for a small cut mark near his neck. It is quite obvious to all that it is the doing of Chandragupta, but nobody seems to be too unhappy about the unfolding of events. Chandragupta ascends the throne and assumes the title of Vikramaditya. He marries Dhruvasvamini or Dhruvadevi and she assumes the title of Mahadevi. Dhruva finds the man that she has been looking for all her life in Chandra.

Dhruva is soon going to be the mother to an heir to the throne. She is cherished by Chandra. Madhavsena has been taking care of her. It’s her bedroom again, the same smell of Nagchampa incense, the same glow of clay lamps, the same Madhavsena, this time trying to entice her Chandra.

Dhruva is jolted out of her reverie, as morning lights touch her eyes. She takes a bath in cold water and changes into a white cotton blouse and dhoti. With  Champak flowers and incense, she climbs up the white marble stairs to her Mahadev. Dhruva bows down before her Lord and asks for forgiveness. ‘I am a weak hearted soul, my Lord. My trust in my love is not strong enough. I am not strong enough to forgive. I should have able to renounce the sin, instead I chose to abandon the sinner. Please forgive my sins.’

Dhruva knew that, Madhavsena would die that very day. The last dose of the mild cobra venom slowly administered to her to give her maximum pain had been administered the day before. Chitra was unfortunate indeed. She had stumbled upon a conversation that she was having with Ayurvedacharya, about the ‘how’ and ‘when’ of doses that were to be administered to Madhavsena. Hence, Chitra acquired a quicker death. The venom had been placed on the small cut on her neck. ‘Ramagupta’, the thought of him, brought the blaze back into her eyes again. He had struggled to free himself, when she personally administered the venom to the cut in his neck. Four men had to hold him back, while she worked on him. A smile returned to her face, as she chanted the Surya Pranam to the Sun rising in the sky. News had arrived that, her Chandra was on his way back home after a victory. She wanted to be ready for her husband, she wanted to be available for her child. She wanted to live her life with love and passion, just like any other woman. If this was a sin, she was ready to ask for forgiveness, for each of the sins that she had committed. But this was her life and she would never allow anybody else to run her emotions or her life. She felt a sense of peace that she had never experienced before.