The Latha Mandapam

The young woman walked with quick, sure steps along a narrow path that meandered through an almost impenetrable mango-grove, and Vandhiyathevan did his best to keep up. It was no easy task; the foliage overhead was dense, and the luxurious growth of bushes caught at his legs, making him stumble more than once in the gloom. Once, when he hesitated, having narrowly missed walking face-first into the trunk of a tree, the lass turned back to stare at him.

“What are you dawdling for?” she asked, her voice a sharp whisper. “Surely you haven’t forgotten the way? You have eyes that can pierce the darkness, haven’t you?”

Vandhiyathevan simply brought a finger to his lips, giving her back her own earlier warning. “Hush!”

At that very moment, a series of scrabbling noises and a muffled commotion from just outside the palace walls reached their ears. It sounded very much like a group of men scuffling about in the dust. The man and the girl walked on a little further in the shadows. A few moments later, Vandhiyathevan let out a low, warm chuckle.

The young woman turned again, raising a questioning eyebrow in the dark. “See anything that amuses you?”

“Nothing I see,” he replied. “Only what I can hear.”

“And what might that be?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear the footsteps of the men who were pursuing me so hotly? I couldn’t help but laugh, just thinking of their intense disappointment.”

A sudden look of fear crossed her face. “Someone is pursuing you? But why?”

“Why else did you think I was squatting at the bottom of a wall, bumbling about in the dark like a sightless loon?”

A sudden gust of wind rustled through the mango trees, unsettling the heavy branches above them, and a stray ray of silver moonlight fell across Vandhiyathevan’s face. The girl gaped at him, her expression wreathed in sheer perplexity.

“What on earth are you staring at?” he asked, mildly amused.

“I was just wondering if you were, well… you,” she stammered.

“If I weren’t me, who else would I be?”

“Well, you had a rather large moustache the last time you came, didn’t you?”

“How intelligent of you, my girl,” he teased gently. “A man like me, who makes his modest living climbing up and down walls in the dead of night—do you really think I could survive long without a disguise to suit every occasion?”

“And you look, well… younger, too.”

“As to that,” he smiled, “a man in good spirits always drinks from the fountain of youth.”

“You are in good spirits? Why?”

“The gracious and bountiful condescension of your beautiful Maharani would ensure the happiness of any man.”

“Don’t you dare mock her,” the girl retorted, fiercely loyal. “She may be the young queen now, but there is no doubt that she will become a full-fledged Maharani one day.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“Ha, you agree, do you? And what is to stop you from arguing, later on, that she became one only because of your magic and tricks? Why, you wouldn’t even hesitate to demand half the empire from her in return!”

By this time, Vandhiyathevan had learnt a good deal of what he intended to find out. He stayed silent as they walked, choosing instead to spend his time in furious, turning thought. Who, he wondered, was he really about to meet? Was it Nandhini, the young queen of Pazhuvoor? It could equally well be Chinna Pazhuvettarayar’s daughter, the one who had recently been given in marriage to the prince, Madhuranthaka Thevar.

His young escort was leading him steadily towards the palace, quite obviously under the firm belief that he was some sort of wandering magician. And now, he was about to meet this mysterious Ilaiya Rani. But how on earth was he to conduct himself in her presence? Ah, be still, my beating heart! he told himself. As long as a man retains his courage, there is always hope. After all, there would be no dearth of clever ruses he could employ to make his escape if things went wrong. His quick brain had never failed to help him out of precarious situations in the past. Why on earth would it betray him now, especially when matched against a woman?

They approached a large, imposing palace, but made for neither its grand front entrance, nor the humble back doors. Instead, they seemed to be heading straight for a delicate appendage that jutted out from the main building—a sensual, beautifully carved and decorated latha mandapam. On closer inspection in the moonlight, it became clear that this artfully embellished gallery was actually built as a covered passageway, connecting two enormous palaces. And the two buildings seemed markedly different in character. The one on the right shimmered brightly against the night sky, warm with glowing oil lamps, filled with the faint echoes of human voices and the comforting sounds of daily occupation. The palace to the left, however, did not boast a single lit lamp, not even a tiny earthen diya on a windowsill. Its great walls rose up to the sky, pale and ghostly in the moonlight, remaining entirely shrouded in silence and deep darkness.

Once they reached the entrance of the latha mandapam, the girl signed to Vandhiyathevan to stay exactly where he was. It was only when he obeyed, coming to a standstill, that the young man drew a long, deep breath—and promptly realised the sheer, overwhelming presence of flowers all around him. Such fragrance! Such a deep, intoxicating night-scent! The sweet odours of jasmine and champak wreathed around him in the warm air, rising to his very brain, almost overpowering him with their heady perfume. The young woman stepped inside the gallery and was obviously engaged in quiet conversation, for another voice—sweet, melodic, and undeniably feminine—immediately joined hers.

“Do you even need to ask? Show him in at once; I have been waiting an age!”

That voice! It wound intoxicating tendrils straight through his senses, turning him quite giddy with a sudden, pleasurable anticipation. It was the young queen of Pazhuvoor, he had no doubt of it. In an instant, he would be standing right in front of her. How on earth was he to handle the situation? And she—what would her reaction be, once she saw that the man who stood before her was not the old magician she had been expecting, but the very same impudent youth who had rammed his horse into her silken palanquin? Would she be taken aback with shock? Perhaps, just perhaps, she would be delighted? Or would she simply choose to reveal no emotion at all?

But stay—here was his young guide again, stepping back to the entrance of the leafy pavilion. She was gesturing for him to enter. Vandhiyathevan walked slowly to where she stood, and peered within the gallery. In a single instant, the scene before him entered his brain through his eyes, searing itself forever into his memory.

A tall lamp glowed bright, affixed to a heavy stand of burnished gold, sending a rich, warm radiance into all the shadowy corners of the gallery. Some sort of precious incense had obviously been blended into the lamp’s oil; a sweet, heavy fragrance threaded its way through the air. In the centre stood an ornate saprakooda couch (a low, wide wooden bed with carved legs), generously strewn with fresh, fragrant flowers. And upon it reclined a young lady, majesty and an effortless grace limning every part of her.

It was, indeed, Nandhini, the young queen of Pazhuvoor. If she had seemed lovely to him in the stark, dusty light of day, seated within her palanquin, she appeared to be the very epitome of exquisite beauty at night. She looked like a Goddess come down to earth in all her divine glory, reclining upon her floral couch, her stunning profile thrown into sharp relief by the golden radiance of the lamp. The dazzle of that golden light, the gently soothing wisp of incense, the striking, unearthly beauty of the young queen—all these things combined to send Vandhiyathevan entirely off-kilter. His senses reeled, and his brain grew fuzzy, thoroughly intoxicated by the sheer magnificence of the scene.

Careful, Vandhiyatheva! he warned himself. You dared to taste country liquor only once in your life, but you still remember, don’t you, the terrible power it held over your waking faculties? The way it rendered you quite senseless, weak in the knees, and foolishly inebriated? You swore then never to touch a drop again. Remember that solemn pledge now, and steel yourself. Do not succumb to this strange new intoxication; it is far, far more powerful than the strongest of spirits!

Nandhini gazed back at him. Her soft, coral-red lips parted just a little in surprise, revealing a glimpse of pearly white teeth. To tell the truth, her temporary speechlessness served to assist Vandhiyathevan’s cause, giving him a moment to collect his scattered wits. He let out a gentle, easy laugh, and gazed right back at her.

“My lady,” he said, “your maid entertained the strangest of suspicions about me out there in the dark. She wanted to know if I was a magician, or not. And how do you think she chose to address the matter? She turned to me under the trees and asked, ‘Are you, you?’”

He chuckled again at the memory. Nandhini smiled. For Vandhiyathevan, it was as if a sudden flash of lightning had dazzled his vision; a sweet, warm shower of wild honey seemed to drench him from head to toe.

“She is certainly prone to a variety of strange fancies, I’m afraid,” the queen said, her voice like a temple bell. “Vasuki, why do you still stand there rooted like a tree? Return to your place. And if you hear the slightest footstep outside, slam the door closed.”

“As you wish, Amma,” the maid murmured.

Vasuki retired, walking quietly down the pathway that led through the leaf-draped gallery towards the brightly lit palace. She reached her designated spot by the dimly lit entrance, gathered her skirts, and sat down to keep watch.

Nandhini leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. “She didn’t quite believe that you were a magician, you say? Silly little fool. More than half the men in this city who call themselves magicians are mere deceivers, I tell you. But you—you truly are one. What sort of midnight spell did you weave to suddenly spring up here?”

“Nothing quite so dramatic, my lady,” Vandhiyathevan smiled modestly. “All I did was climb a wooden ladder left conveniently by the wall.”

“That much is quite obvious,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “What I meant was, what sort of charm did you use to fool this poor young woman?”

“I simply turned the full force of my charismatic smile upon her, aided by the light of the beautiful moon,” he declared, eyes dancing. “And failing that, I was hoping to show her the gold palm-tree signet ring you so kindly bestowed upon me.”

“So you do have it safe? Then surely you could have just walked proudly through the front gates in broad daylight? Why skulk around the gardens in this stifling darkness?”

“If you wouldn’t think it amiss, my lady, I should very much like to inform you that your brother-in-law, Chinna Pazhuvettarayar’s men are nothing but thieving rascals. First, they tried to make away with my clothes and worldly belongings. Next, they followed me around the bazaars and streets without leaving my side for a single instant. Ah, you wouldn’t believe the devious ruses I had to employ, just to slip through their nets of surveillance! I managed to escape them, ran through all the dusty alleys and narrow by-lanes I could think of, wriggled through nooks and crannies like a street-dog, and finally made my weary way to your palace walls, wandering all around the perimeter. That was when I clapped my eyes on the ladder leaning against the stone. I heaved a great sigh of relief, thinking that you had remembered this pitiful creature, and had left it there to aid me. This, I now know, was a mistake on my part. Please accept my apologies.”

“There doesn’t seem to be any need to offer apologies,” she said softly.

“But… why not, Ammani?” he asked, using the respectful yet endearing term for a lady.

“Because you weren’t quite that far off in your assumptions. Do you know why I sent for a magician in the first place?”

“I am afraid not. I must confess I have absolutely no knowledge of either sorcery or the reading of stars.”

“I have been thinking of you ever since yesterday morning, you see,” she murmured. “I wondered why you hadn’t come to visit me yet. And that was exactly why I wanted to confer with a magician.”

“Surprising, indeed,” he said, quite taken aback.

“What is?”

“What you said, just now. Because, truth be told, I have been thinking of you ever since yesterday morning as well!”

She looked at him searchingly. “Do you believe in past lives? The invisible threads that bind us, drawing us from one birth to another?”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“I have heard it said by wise men that sometimes, when two people are deeply bound by friendship, or by some sort of strong relationship in one birth, that very bond continues to pull them together in their next births as well.”

“Until yesterday, I would have laughed out loud at such a whimsical idea,” Vandhiyathevan admitted gently. “Now, though… I find that I am beginning to believe in such things.”

For all outward purposes, Vandhiyathevan was merely spouting a charming, convenient lie to please a beautiful queen. But in his mind’s eye, it must be admitted, there flashed a sudden, vivid memory of the sweet-faced young woman he had encountered earlier at the Kudandhai astrologer’s humble home. Nandhini, however, had absolutely no way of knowing his innermost thought processes, had she? The young queen of Pazhuvoor naturally assumed that the handsome young man was talking entirely of her.

“But that wasn’t the real reason you wished to visit me, was it?” she asked with a small, knowing smile. “There was some mention of a message from Azhwarkkadiyaan Nambi…”

“Indeed, yes, Ammani. Delivering that message was certainly my first and foremost intention. Once I actually set eyes on you, however, I simply forgot… well, everything.”

“Where did you meet Azhwarkkadiyaan? And what was his message to me?”

“It was a little way outside the town of Veera Narayanapuram. He was, at that precise moment, trying very hard to establish the absolute superiority of his Vaishnavite faith using nothing but the solid strength of his wooden staff against some rather angry opponents. The great Periya Pazhuvettarayar’s grand procession happened to pass us on their way to Kadambur just then. Doubtless, the loud sounds of his argument must have reached your ears, for you put out a slender, golden hand, and pushed aside the silk screen of your palanquin to look. That was when Azhwarkkadiyaan recognised you, and wished to send a message. He believed I would be able to pass it on, as I was lucky enough to stay at the Kadambur palace that night. But much to my misfortune, I couldn’t gain an audience with you until we were right outside the great Thanjavur fort—and even then, that was only because your palanquin happened to knock squarely into my poor horse!”

Nandhini had been gazing thoughtfully at some point above her in the shadows all this while; Vandhiyathevan could not quite gauge her true thoughts or emotions from what little he could see of her calm expression. When he finished his tale, however, she turned back to him.

“Indeed,” she murmured, her face suddenly wreathed in the most exquisite, captivating smile. “The palanquins I climb into always do seem to be wickedly troublesome, don’t they?”