Kalki’s ‘Ponniyin Selvan’: Rival factions gather at Kadambur Palace, awaiting crucial decisions

Aditya Karikalan was pointing at one of the mandapams by the seaside. The stone structure must have been constructed by an altruist who wanted to provide travellers with some shelter from the sun and the rain. Having borne the brunt of the weather’s vagaries, the stone was rather worse for the wear, but one could still see the sculptures that had been carved into it. Malayaman’s fading eyesight, however, did not allow him to see their features clearly.

“Do you see, thatha?” Aditya Karikalan asked.

“Kuzhandaai! You’re referring to that mandapam, aren’t you? I don’t see anything else. The mandapam is empty too. I don’t see anyone inside,” he said.

“Thatha! It is only now that it strikes me that you’ve got old. Your eyesight is not what it used to be. Look there! Do you see that huge Rajali eagle? What an enormous bird it is! Look at its wingspan! Terrible, terrible! How cruel it is! It has a tiny dove in its claws, do you see? Its sharp talons have dug into the flesh of that dove, don’t you see? Kadavule, what is this! What a wonder! Another little dove has come there, thatha! It is circling around that gigantic Rajali! It’s pleading with the eagle! The dove the Rajali has caught must be this dove’s lover! She’s begging the eagle for mercy, asking him to spare her lover’s life! Thatha! Is the dove pleading or fighting? The way she’s flapping her wings, it is as if she’s readying for battle! Kadavule! How brave that girl is! A little dove taking on the Rajali, for the sake of her lover! She’s going to fight with that rakshasha of a bird! Thatha! Do you think that Rajali will relent? No, no, never! It has killed so many, many doves like this! That cursed Rajali! Oh, you terrible, horrible bird! Here, I’m going to kill you!”

And with that Aditya Karikalan reached for a heavy rock lying nearby and hurled it at the mandapam. The rock hit the wall and fell into a corner.

“Rakshasha!” Aditya Karikalan shouted.

“You deserved that!” And he began to laugh.

The old man had already been worrying about his grandson’s sanity. Now, he grew more concerned.

“Thatha! Why are you staring at me like that? Go closer to the mandapam and you’ll see,” Aditya Karikalan said.

Malayaman did as he said, and stared at the point where the rock Karikalan had hurled now lay. He could see a sculpture there. It did depict a Rajali eagle carrying a dove in its talons, while another dove was seen in flight as if readying for battle with the Rajali.

Malayaman returned to the spot where his grandson was sitting and said, “Kuzhandaai! It is true that I’ve grown old! My eyesight has lost its sharpness. It was only after I got close that I could see the carving. The sculptor’s work is good.”

“The sculptor’s work is good? It’s an artistic marvel, thatha! The virtuoso who crafted this must have been a sculptor from the era of Mahendravarmar Mamallar! When I first saw it, it was as if it was happening before my very eyes, as if it was real!”

“Aditya! It is not just the stonework that is a marvel, but your eyesight. And your mind. How many travellers go this way. Most of them would not even have noticed that stunning carving. The few who do would just see it as part of the landscape. It is a very, very select group that would gaze upon it as you do and be as awed as you are.”

“I’m not awed, thatha! I’m angry. I’m enraged! I want to break that sculpture right now. I don’t even feel like praising the man who conjured such an awful image.”

“Karikala! What is this bizarre change that has come over you? When did your warrior’s heart begin to bleed like this? It is in the very nature of the Rajali to kill the dove. If a lion were to pity a goat, it cannot be a lion any longer. It would turn into a goat, in spirit, if nothing else. Those who wish to sit on a throne must be ready to kill enemies and traitors. A king who desires to conquer the entire world must kill other kings! How can a Rajali be a Rajali if it were to desist from killing doves? Why does this sculpture trouble you so much?”

“Thatha! I can’t fault anything you’ve said. But shouldn’t the Rajali feel pity for that female dove? Shouldn’t he be moved by her love for the male dove and release him? Aiya, tell me yourself … let’s say you’re about to kill your enemy, when his lover comes up to you and falls at your feet, begging you to spare his life. What would you do? Wouldn’t your heart feel pity for her?”

“If a woman did as you say, I would kick her away with one foot and kill my enemy before her eyes, Karikala. There is no doubt about it. Valluvar has said praying hands can hold preying swords, that the words of enemies are as false as their tears. Women’s tears are even more dangerous than those of men, because women’s tears have the power to make men melt. A man who allows himself to melt can never achieve great things. Why, he would be even lowlier than a woman!”

“Thatha! What is this? Why do you speak in such a degrading manner about women? Don’t you see that you’re insulting my mother too when you speak of her sex this way?”

“Kuzhandaai! Hear my words carefully. My love for your mother knows no bounds. I had six sons, sons who were the equal of Bhima and Arjuna in battle. And I lost all of them to war. Not even the news of their deaths pained me as much as the moment when I gave your mother away in marriage. I knew she would sit on the Chozha throne, and yet I was beside myself with grief at being separated from my beloved child. But did I let anyone see that sorrow? Did I even tell her my feelings? Of course not! On the eve of her wedding, do you know what I told her? “My daughter! You’re about to marry a man who will conquer the entire world. But let that not make you arrogant! Marrying a man of such fame and fortitude will only bring you sorrow. Truth be told, many of the palace servants who wait on you will be happier than you. Prepare yourself for sorrow and anxiety and grief. If you don’t have children, your husband will certainly marry other women. But let that not trouble you. If you do have children, raise them to become heroes. And if you hear that they have died in battle, you must not shed a single tear. When your husband is happy, rejoice with him. When he is sad, try to cheer him up! If he were to fall ill, stay by his side and attend to his every need. If he were to die, burn in his pyre with him! Your heart may bleed, but your eyes must remain dry! This is the nature of women from the Malayaman clan, and you must live up to this reputation!” I said to her. And your mother has followed every single bit of advice and instruction I gave her. Karikala! She has raised you and your brother to become peerless warriors. She stays by your ailing father’s side night and day. Every time I think of my daughter, my shoulders grow wider and broader with pride!”

“Thatha, my pride knows no bounds when I think of my mother. But let me ask you something. If some terrible enemy were to approach my father, my ailing father, dagger in hand … what would my mother do? Wouldn’t she sob and beg him to spare her husband’s life? Most important, let’s say this enemy was someone my mother already knew …”

“Kuzhandaai! Your mother would never beg an enemy to spare her husband’s life. Malayaman’s daughter would never let the clan of her birth and the clan into which she married down that way! What humiliation! No, she would never do that. She would see her husband’s enemy as her own enemy, and she would never bow down to an enemy or sob to him or beg for mercy. If her husband were to be killed, she would throw herself upon his body and die with him. Or, she would harden her heart and live on without him until she avenged his death.”

Excerpted with permission from Bejewelled Crown: Pooniyin Selvan Book 7, Kalki, translated from the Tamil by Nandini Krishnan, Westland.