Vijayaprastha, Kadamba Rajya, Dwapara Yuga
Soft rays of the morning sun poured into Ahyan's room, giving it an orange gleam. One could hear the faint chirping of birds from the outside of the windows, with curtains swaying by the cool breeze. Ahyan woke up fluttering, his eyes half open, staring at the cream-coloured domed ceiling with intricate mandala art in gold and turquoise stones.
He wriggled out of the red satin quilt embroidered with golden thread and got up to sit on the bed with the quilt crumpled covering his lap and stretched his arms in a lazied manner, yawning. "Good morning, Ahyan! Today is the new page of my life," he beamed. After staying like that for a few moments, he rolled out of the bed and walked to the window to glance at the garden below. "Oh, how I wish I had my iPhone and coffee with me right now?" he lamented.
Looking down, he marvelled at a vast, oval-shaped garden. Smoothly trimmed lush green grass covered the ground and on the peripheries, there were neatly pruned bushes blooming in rare flowers he had never seen. In the middle, there's a small ivory-tinted stone pavilion. Creepers crawled on the pillars and the dome artfully, their flowering branches hanging from the top. Inside the pavilion, there's a round ivory table covered in perhaps silk. It's too far away to say accurately, and a few icy blue cushioned chairs, all made of ivory.
A few feet away from it there's a fountain โ again an ivory one, with a statue of a woman holding a pot near her waist and water flowing from it. The garden's architecture is like what he had seen in ancient temples in Karnataka with a slight influence by Persian culture, especially the pavilion. The garden looked like a traditional Indian version of fairycore architecture.
He walked away to freshen up in the washroom attached to his room. It's a small room tiled with rough lime coated, the same as the walls. A mirror with a simple yet ornate gold frame is hanging to the wall above it at a height where a grown man can see his reflection standing.
Below it, just above the basin, there's a bronze tap. There's a small water-borne alabaster-tinted stone toilet with a hole connecting to a drain similar to the modern-day ones. One has to squat low to do you-know-what and there's a tap attached to the wall at a level one can reach by hand while squatting. A bronze bucket with a mug of the same metal hanging from its rim is placed below the tap.
He brushed his teeth with a twig dipped in charcoal and herbal mixture. Then he washed his face with a sandalwood scented soapy lotion in a carved terracotta bottle painted in vibrant colours.
On leaving the washroom, he rang the bell to call the attendants. Chandran, along with a few new faces, came to his chamber. "Take me to the Snanagruha, Chandran," he asked the familiar attendant. "As you wish, rajaathiti," the latter complied, bowing his head in respect. Though such gestures made the kaliyugi uncomfortable, he didn't voice it out as it's a part of their etiquette. "Be a Roman when you're in Rome," he reflected.
The attendants took him to the bathhouse through a back corridor he was familiar with. On the way, Ahyan asked Chandran, "Can you give me a tour of this palace after breakfast?" "Yes, my lord," he agreed.
They, along with the attendants, entered the enormous hall with a water pool occupying most of the space except for the foyers and exquisitely sculpted lime-coated stone pillars around it. There're passageways leading to guest rooms which can be known only by the servants working here. Its grandeur can put a seven-star spa to shame. He couldn't believe he had missed all these details even after coming here every day since he had transmigrated to this era.
"Which perfume and flowers should we use, my lord?" Chandran inquired, bringing him out of his awe of the surroundings. He looked at the assorted exotic flowers and fragrance concoctions and chose the one with a gentle and sweet aroma, and asked them what it was called. One of them replied, "It's an aroma extracted from the kadamba flowers which only bloom at night."
They mixed the fragrant oil and champa flowers he chose and he slowly slipped into the fragrant, lukewarm water. As he leaned against the pool rim and closed his eyes, the servants applied the turmeric paste to his body and massaged it. He got lost in the whirlwind of thoughts.
The lax security shocked him. What if someone decided, "Today I'm bored, so let's invade Kadamba?" He should talk with the king about it. But his relationship with the king and queen is still murky, and he doesn't know how to approach them. Also, a king's heir becomes a prince, and he DOES NOT want to rule a kingdom, no thank you, and god bless you.
There's also his sexuality. He doesn't know how people of this time will react to it. Will he be judged and denied basic respect like he was back in Hyderabad? Should he go back into the closet? He's definitely not comfortable with that. He couldn't throw away all the struggle he went through to accept him as he was, just for some bigots.
It'd be an insult to the support and love of his parents and friends who stood with him when the world was against him. If, of course, it's a life-threatening situation like burning at a stake, he'll pretend to be straight. Nothing's more important than staying alive. "It's safer to ask Chandran than the king or others," he concluded.
He turned his head to the side to face Chandran, who was diligently massaging his left arm, and asked, "Does your kingdom accept romantic relationships between people of the same sex?" The sudden question made him and the other attendants freeze. Chandran replied with his head down, "To answer my lord's question, love between two people is not a crime in our kingdom, regardless of their gender as long as it's consensual and ethical."
This put the kaliyugi at ease. He felt as if a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders. He appreciated such a progressive and open-minded ideology. "If only India is like this," he sighed in disappointment at what an oppressive, orthodox and prejudiced country it became.
After the bath, the attendants guided him to his room in the same way he came here. They dressed him in the anthariya, uttariya and jewellery the queen had handpicked, they informed him. His sleek hair was styled back with coconut oil. The servants stepped back as he got up to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror with a thick gold frame with intricate patterns of peacocks, flowers and other motifs.
He was in awe of how handsome he looked. It felt as if he was a main character in an Indian period drama (A/N: you are ๐).
He's wearing a lavender anthariya with a golden brocade border and a tan-yellow uttariya embroidered with a gold threaded, heavy temple border and small motifs all over.
Coming to the gold jewellery, they decked him with a chandraharam reaching till a few inches above his belly button, a kante with a Ganesha pendant studded with uncut diamonds and deep blue sapphires.
To get a closer look at the armband fastened to his upper arm, he twisted his right arm to the front slightly. It has a Mahadeva and Parvati pendant in the middle with sturdy, patterned chains on either side. Going jewellery shopping with his mom surely educated him about types and designs.
He thanked the servants for getting ready, making them bow with their ears turning red. He made a note mentally to thank the queen for gifting him such gorgeous clothes and ornaments.
When a servant said the queen had requested him to have breakfast with them, he complied. Guided by the servant, Ahyan navigated through wide rust fabric-carpeted corridors with huge pillars sculpted with celestial figures and floral motifs to reach the dining hall.
It's a vast, long hall with people of all statuses sitting in rows on the mats placed on the floor and eating from banana leaves without spilling a particle. He spotted the king and queen at the head of the central reversed U row, along with some people he vaguely remembered and some he didn't know of.
"Come sit with us, putra," invited Raja Mayuravarma, when the herald announced his arrival, gesturing at the space to his right. Murmurs filled the once boisterous hall as everyone noticed him at the entrance.
Ahyan's chest tightened and his face became warm as he became the centre of attention for all kinds of stares โ sympathetic, curious, judging. He didn't know what kind of story the king and the queen had made to cover up for why he had holed up in his chambers since he had arrived at the palace. He had a reluctant smile, with tight lips resisting his urge to fidget with the hem of his uttariya as everyone's gazes prickled at him.
With hesitant steps, he approached the king and queen sitting to the king's left and sought their blessings touching their feet as he remembered people doing it in old-school Hindi dramas. "Sada Sukhibhava," "Ayushmanbhava," Raja Mayuravarma and Rani Suravarchassa blessed him, respectively.
After seeking their blessings, he took his seat beside the king. A servant served idli drizzled with ghee, peanut chutney and sambar on a banana leaf-covered bronze plate and cutlery.
He reached the seventh heaven when he took a bite of ghee-drenched idli dipped in sambar. "OH. MY. GOD! This is the best thing I've ever eaten!" he exclaimed in his head, relishing the taste.
The king tapped the queen's wrist, and they both beamed, eying Ahyan's glowing face and sparkling eyes as he savoured the food. "Are you enjoying the breakfast, putra?" asked the queen. "Yes, Maharani. Please give my compliments to the chefs," he requested in response.
After they had their breakfast, the queen took her leave, and the king introduced Ahyan to the royal ministry and other important personnel. "Pranipat," the kaliyugi, pressing his palms together, thumbs facing towards himself.
A middle-aged stocky drill sergeant with a thick handlebar moustache introduced himself to Ahyan first. "Pranipat, rajaathiti. I'm Veerasena, the minister of war and defence," "Pranipat, Mantrivarya," he greeted him back, recalling how people were addressed in those period dramas he watched with his bastard of an ex.
Then came a man who could be in his early fifties with a lanky frame and streaks of grey in his wavy hair, wearing a jandyam across his torso, and greeted him with a kind smile, "Pranipat, rajaathiti, this one serves as the finance minister and is named Vishnudasa."
Ahyan greeted him back with a genuine smile. This minister reminded him of his taatha, who he misses so much, along with his mom and dad.
The other ministers and officials greeted him one by one, and he greeted them back.
At last, a handsome young man who looked closer to his age, with a sandy complexion and delicate body of someone who doesn't do much physical work, greeted him in a velvety voice and a mischievous smile blooming on his full, rosy lips.
"Pranipat rajaathiti, I'm Mohanavadana, one of the royal poets. I've heard a lot about you and I'm eager to make acquaintance with you and even more if you're willing," he greeted, throwing a subtle wink at the flustered kaliyugi dusting his heated cheeks with a rosy hue.
"I hope they're all good things, haha," Ahyan stammered, cursing at himself. "He could help me with my Webtoon project," he thought. "I wish to get to know you better," he replied with a gentle smile.
After greeting everyone informally in the dining hall, he left with the king. Before leaving, he looked back at Mohanavadana, only to find him smiling at him. He spun around, hiding his red ears. "This man is a threat to my weak heart," he muttered, moving away.
The king bid him goodbye after reaching the royal court, where they went separate ways and Ahyan returned to his chambers. He plopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling. "Ah man, I'm so beat and it is only morning," he sighed.
"Oh yeah! I've asked Chandran for a house tour!" he recalled and rang the bell. An attendant who he didn't recognise came in and bowed, awaiting his orders. "Please ask Chandran to my chambers," he said, surprising the attendant with his respectful address. The latter composed himself and after responding with a yes, he left.
Chandran came to the royal guest chambers, and they both left to visit the royal palace with him as the tour guide. Ahyan's slender fingers ran over the complicated floral carvings on lime-coated, coarse-grained sturdy pillars of spacious corridors covered with warm Persian rugs, sparkling eyes taking in every detail.
Ahyan listened attentively as Chandran informed of the history of various buildings and corridors in a serene voice. The latter was polite but maintained his distance. "This can't do, I've to befriend this stiff guy!" he nodded with determination.
As they walked together, Ahyan turned his head right and commented, glancing at the temporary tour guide, "You seem to know a lot about the palace and its history."
"I was his highness, the crown prince's study partner before he left for gurukul to complete his royal education under the royal priest, Maharshi Vashistha's tutelage." The latter replied in his usual professional tone, but Ahyan could detect a hint of bitterness and longing. Ahyan's mind came up with all kinds of scenarios as his shipper heart went wild. "But then it could be a friendship gone wrong," he mused.
"Wait... Crown Prince??? WTF?!?!?!" He whirled around to look at the attendant, too stunned to speak. "There's a Crown Prince? But as far as I've heard, the king is childless. Is he adopted? Or maybe is he an illegitimate child?" He rapid-fired questions at the nonplussed attendant, who was confused at the former's sudden change of demeanour.
"Our benevolent King wasn't blessed with a child of his own, but the crown prince is the only heir and the son of the late king Shuravarma and Queen Suravandita, the elder brother and sister-in-law of his majesty." He informed the royal guest, and the latter nodded in understanding.
"I thought everyone in the kingdom knew this. Maybe it's because of his unknown origins and memory loss, about which the servants were informed before he was appointed as his personal attendant." He pondered as they reached Mahadev's temple in the Padma Saras.
Ahyan's eyes widened as he saw a small temple at the other end of a shallow pond with lotus plants and bright-coloured koi fish swimming under the surface.
"Rajakumara! Stop!" "You can't reach me! Hahahaha!" An eleven-year-old chased around a nine-year-old kid in royal attire, giggling and huffing, and the pond bank was filled with the laughter of childhood innocence.
"Chandran, be careful! You might fall down!" the crown prince yelled in concern at his study partner, who climbed a tall tree to save the bird's nest from falling down in the pouring rain. "It's okay! You'll catch me, no?" the servant shouted over the rain with a dazzling smile.
"I've to leave for gurukul now, Chandran, to complete my studies and become the heir worthy of this throne. I want to carry ahead the legacy of just and kind ruling, walking on the path of dharma like my father and uncle. My only regret is to leave you behind, my beloved." His lips caressed the other tenderly, like being touched by a rose.
Chandran froze, eyes wide open at the sudden confession. "I'm sorry! I don't know what I was doing! Just- Just let's pretend this never happened," the prince babbled, rubbing his neck, cheeks dusted in rouge.
It was an epiphany for the seventeen-year-old servant boy that he has been in love with the prince all along. Even though he knew there was no future for them together, he wanted to savour these precious memories deep in his heart. He pulled the prince, who was facing away from him, shoulders drooped and head hung down, into a tight hug. He lifted the prince's trembling chin with his smooth fingers and kissed away the tears.
"I like you too, my prince." He bent forward to capture the younger one's lips, which tasted like nectar. One of his hands tugged the prince's soft curls, and the other pulled him closer, their torsos touching each other, sending electric currents through their bodies. The other responded with fervour, clutching to the older lad as if he would disappear if he let go of him even though it was him who was leaving.
The two lovers' breaths became one with lotuses blooming in the background, welcoming the dawn. They stopped devouring each other's faces for a breather, touching each other's forehead, sunlight bathing them in a golden glow. "I promise that I'll write to you every day. Will you promise me you will not forget us?" Kruthavarma, the only royal prince of the Kadamba kingdom, asked his study partner and the love of his life, in a thick voice, trying hard not to cry.
"Yes, as long as I'm alive, I won't ever forget us, this," he promised, pointing fingers at himself and the prince. "Okay!" the prince left with a bittersweet smile.
"It's been ten years, my prince. Every inch of my soul yearns for you." A sad smile fluttered on his lips when rajaathiti's touch brought him back to the present.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Ahyan asked Chandran, whose face was marred with sorrow and longing. "It's nothing, rajaathiti, let's continue with our tour." He evaded the question. "Well... okayโ," Ahyan shrugged it off, not wanting to pry. They reached the temple, where the priest was giving haarati to the one-foot-tall granite lingam decorated with jasmines and kadamba flowers.
They held their palms together in namaskara and prayed to lord Shiva in their hearts. The priest applied vibhuti on their foreheads, pressed a golden shatagopam on their heads, and gave them prasadam and thertham. They both sat down on the temple steps and ate the savoury and mild-tasting Pongali.
"Isn't the view lovely" Ahyan grinned, turning to look at his personal attendant. "Yes, it is, your grace," he agreed, looking ahead calmly.
The tour closed around the evening, and Ahyan went to meet the royal couple to talk about his adoption and reveal his sexuality. He believed that honesty and communication are fundamental to any relationship.
As a servant showed him the way, he reached the Chandrodhyaan, meaning 'the moonlit garden' where the royal couple is enjoying some quality time (A/N: if you know, you know ๐)
"Ahem," Ahyan cleared his throat to announce his presence, "Sorry to disturb you, I'll come back some other time." He turned back to return to his room, uncomfortable with their lovey-dovey activities. "Wait, putra!" the queen tidied her hair and accessories in haste, hinting at her husband to do the same with her eyes. He chuckled and complied.
"Are you both decent?" he asked, with his back facing them and the voice came out muffled as he was covering his face with both palms in embarrassment. "Yes, you can open your eyes, putra," the king said in a mirthful tone.
"Uh ah ha, okay," Ahyan replied awkwardly, removing his hands from his face. "Are people of your time so prudish that you turned red seeing a sliver of intimacy?" the king laughed out loud, laying his arm around the kaliyugi's shoulders who sat between the couple. "Don't tease him, swami, look how red his ears have become?" the queen giggled, putting her soon-to-be son's unruly locks behind his ears.
Seeing Ahyan fidgeting his thumbs, they sobered up and the queen asked, "Is there anything you want to discuss with us, putra?" "Um- I've heard that you already have a potential heir, so why do you want to adopt me, who knows nothing about ruling a kingdom, as your son? Also it's not like I've any superpowers, nor any brilliant strategies, so why?"
The king and queen were stunned to hear that. Why would he think they're adopting him to serve a purpose? "Putra, we're not recruiting you for the royal court, so rest assured, we don't need you to have stellar qualifications to be our son." The king patted the sullen kaliyugi's shoulder with a reassuring smile. "Haa, putra, we wanted to adopt you partly because it's the best way to keep you and your mysterious origins safe and partly because we felt a connection with you." The queen held his palms in hers to soothe him.
"Oh thank you, I've read so many stories where only talented people or those who are overpowered are favoured, sorry for assuming the worst. And I do feel a bond with you although I can't replace my parents with you, I'll work hard to develop our relationship!" he replied.
"It's okay to be wary and we do not expect us to have a higher place than your parents in your heart, putra." The king smiled.
"Men liking men? That's disgusting!" "I'm not interested in you in that way, sorry" "Fuck off, gay saala!" Hurtful comments rang in Ahyan's head as he prepared himself to open up about his sexuality. A warm touch on his wrists brought him back to reality. "What is it, putra?" the queen asked, with concern clear in her eyes. He looked at them, being so worried for him, which assuaged him to take the leap of faith.
"I'm sexually and romantically attracted only to men!" he blurted out, holding his breath, anxious for their response. "Ohh! Is there anyone you fancy in the palace? I'll play the matchmaker!" the queen gasped in excitement, mentally preparing all the eligible bachelors list. "Calm down, priye, he just started interacting with others, he'll go ahead at his own pace," the king said with a fond smile.
This reminded Ahyan of the memory of him coming out to his parents. "We do not think of you differently because you like men unlike some others in Aryavartha, especially like those stuck-ups from Hastinapura, so do not worry about scorn or prejudice from us or anyone in the kingdom." The king once again patted the kaliyugi's head.
"Oh right, in a few days Krutha, my darling nephew, will come home. I'll introduce you to him. I'm sure you'll hit it off!" the queen said. Ahyan was curious about this prince who his personal attendant seems to adore so much. "I'll look forward to it," he replied with enthusiasm.
He chatted with them, laughing and enjoying under the blooming kadamba flowers until it became night and retired to his chambers after a light and hearty supper.
He slept soundly anticipating the next where he decided to befriend Mohanavadana and start the comic project, unaware of being guarded by the shadow escort, Nishaat.