Sursa arched her eyebrows and swayed her hip seductively to the side. ‘Hans, don’t you understand the way I feel about you? The things I can do for you … And, to you …’
‘Madam,’ interrupted Hanuman, blushing beet-red, and stepping back farther. ‘I have told you many times. I am sworn to celibacy. This is inappropriate. I am not trying to insult you. Please understand. I cannot …’
Naarad was leaning against the wall now, covering his mouth, shoulders shaking, laughing silently. Trying hard not to make a sound.
‘Nobody needs to know, Hans. You can keep up the appearance of your vow. You don’t have to marry me. I only want you. Not your name.’ Sursa stepped forward and reached out for Hanuman’s hand.
With surprising agility for a man his size, Hanuman sidestepped quickly, deftly avoiding Sursa’s touch. He raised his voice in alarm, ‘Madam! Please! I beg you! Stop!’
Sursa pouted and traced her torso with her fingers. ‘Am I not attractive enough?’
Hanuman turned towards Naarad. ‘In Lord Indra’s name, Naarad. Do something!’
Naarad was barely able to control his laughter. He stepped in front of Hanuman and faced the woman. ‘Listen Sursa, enough is enough. You know that …’
Sursa flared up. Suddenly aggressive. ‘I don’t need your advice, Naarad! You know I love Hans. You had said you would help me.’
‘I am sorry, but I lied,’ said Naarad. ‘I was just having fun.’
‘This is fun for you?! What is wrong with you?’
Naarad signalled a couple of his employees. Two women walked up and pulled an irate Sursa away.
‘I will make sure you lose half your money in your next trade, you stupid oaf!’ screamed Sursa, as the women dragged her out.
As soon as they were alone again, Hanuman glared at his friend. ‘What is wrong with you, Naarad?’
‘I was just having fun, my friend. Sorry.’
Hanuman held the diminutive Naarad by his shoulder, towering over him. ‘This is not fun! You were insulting Sursa. And, harassing me. I should thrash you to your bones!’
Naarad held Hanuman’s hands in mock remorse, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘You won’t feel like thrashing me when I tell you who the Malayaputras have appointed as the Vishnu.’
Hanuman let Naarad go. Shocked. ‘Appointed?’
How can Guru Vishwamitra do that? Without the consent of the Vayuputras!
Naarad smiled. ‘You won’t survive a day without the information I give you. That’s why you won’t thrash me!’
Hanuman shook his head, smiled wryly, hit Naarad playfully on his shoulder and said, ‘Start talking, you stupid nut.’
Chapter 12
‘Radhika!’ Sita broke into a broad smile.
Sita’s friend from her gurukul days had made a surprise visit. The sixteen-year-old Radhika, a year younger than Sita, had been led into the princess’ private chambers by Samichi, the new protocol chief of Mithila. The protocol duties, a new addition to Samichi’s responsibilities, kept her busy with non-police work of late. Sita had therefore appointed a Deputy Police Chief to assist Samichi. This deputy was male. A strong but fair-minded officer, he had ensured that Samichi’s biases did not affect real policing.
Radhika had not travelled alone, this time. She was accompanied by her father, Varun Ratnakar, and her uncle, Vayu Kesari.
Sita had met Varun Ratnakar in the past, but this was her first meeting with Radhika’s uncle and Ratnakar’s cousin, Vayu Kesari. The uncle did not share any family resemblance with his kin. Substantially short, stocky and fair-complexioned, his muscular body was extraordinarily hairy.
Perhaps he is one of the Vaanars, thought Sita.
She was aware that Radhika’s tribe, the Valmikis, were matrilineal. Their women did not marry outside the community. Men, however, could marry non-Valmiki women; of course, on the condition that if they did, they would leave the tribe. Perhaps Vayu Kesari was the son of one such excommunicated Valmiki man and a Vaanar woman.
Sita bent down and touched the feet of the elderly men.
Both blessed Sita with a long life. Varun Ratnakar was a respected intellectual and thinker, revered by those who valued knowledge. Sita knew he would love to spend time with her father, who was, perhaps, the most intellectual king in the Sapt Sindhu. With the departure of his chief guru, Ashtaavakra, to the Himalayas, Janak missed philosophical conversations. He would be happy to spend some quality time in the company of fellow intellectuals.
The men soon departed for King Janak’s chambers. Samichi, too, excused herself. Her busy schedule did not leave her with much time for social niceties. Sita and Radhika were soon alone in the Mithila princess’ private study.
‘How is life treating you, Radhika?’ asked Sita, holding her friend’s hands.
‘I am not the one leading an exciting life, Sita,’ smiled Radhika. ‘You are!’
‘Me?!’ laughed Sita, rolling her eyes with exaggerated playfulness. ‘Hardly. All I do is police a small kingdom, collect taxes and redevelop slums.’
‘Only for now. You have so much more to do …’
Sita instantly became guarded. There seemed to be more to this conversation than was obvious at the surface level. She spoke carefully. ‘Yes, I do have a lot to do as the prime minister of Mithila. But it’s not unmanageable, you know. We truly are a small and insignificant kingdom.’
‘But India is a big nation.’
Sita spoke even more carefully, ‘What can this remote corner do for India, Radhika? Mithila is a powerless kingdom ignored by all.’
‘That may be so,’ smiled Radhika. ‘But no Indian in his right mind will ignore Agastyakootam.’
Sita held her breath momentarily. She maintained her calm demeanour, but her heart was thumping like the town crier’s drumbeat.
How does Radhika know? Who else does? I have not told anyone. Except Maa.
‘I want to help you, Sita,’ whispered Radhika. ‘Trust me. You are a friend and I love you. And, I love India even more. You are important for India. Jai Parshu Ram.’
‘Jai Parshu Ram,’ whispered Sita, hesitating momentarily before asking, ‘Are your father and you …’
Radhika laughed. ‘I’m a nobody, Sita. But my father … Let’s just say that he’s important. And, he wants to help you. I am just the conduit, because the universe conspired to make me your friend.’
‘Is your father a Malayaputra?’
‘No, he is not.’
‘Vayuputra?’
‘The Vayuputras do not live in India. The tribe of the Mahadev, as you know, can visit the sacred land of India anytime but cannot live here. So, how can my father be a Vayuputra?’
‘Then, who is he?’
‘All in good time …’ smiled Radhika. ‘Right now, I have been tasked with checking a few things with you.’