The Bard

1150 AD

Rana made a final dash towards the Ghori invader. An attack, that if successful, would in one sweep of the sword, change the war and the history of the subcontinent. But Ghori was as vigilant as the Rana was valiant. He moved away with speed, back into his cordon of protectors. An Uzbek guard seized the reins of Rana's horse and unseated the mighty Rana.

Unfortunately for the chivalrous Rana, Ghori's ideals were decidedly more practical. In one swift decree, he declared himself as the master over all of Ranas dominions and declared Rana as a royal prisoner of war.

"Ah, so the great king of Rajputana and Hindustan is now a prisoner of a slave governor from Ghori. This is amusing indeed!", the Sultan was merciless in his taunts.
"Lower your eyes when you speak to me Rana, like every other kaafir commoner"
"A Rajput's eyes are never lowered, O Ghori. Certainly not to a raiding marauder", the Rana responded with the charactersitic defiance and disregard for prudence.
"Very well, burn them then."

The bard had accompanied the rana throughout his childhood. He and the Rana grew up together. He would compose poetry and paint, while the Rana learnt political science, economics and martial arts. The bard accompanied Rana to the battles and to the royal prisons.

The buzz of the upcoming archery context was all among the slave subedars of the court. Who would win the contest? The prize was bountiful, a hundred thousand gold coins and 'Amir-ul-Mara', the title of freedom. The bard was thoughtful.

There is great mirth among the subedars. The blinded kaafir king has entered an archery contest! A gazelle is being swirled around by a rotating post at a distance. The Sultan seats himself on a magnificent throne in the grounds. The show begins.

"Well Ranaji, what are you waiting for?"

The bard cleared his throat. 'Amir-ul-Mulk, a humble request. The Rana won't accept orders to shoot from anyone but another king. So if you please issue the command to shoot, the rana will shoot the gazelle right in the eye"

"Proud as a king, and proud as a slave, eh? Very well, O Bard." And then, with a voice as unctuous as he could manage, the Sultan spoke, "O mighty king, if you could please show your prowess in archery." Rana did not move.

"Hukm ki TAMEEL HO!", the Sultan shouted.

The Rana lifted the bow and pulled the string taut.

And then the bard whispered, ever so softly..
' Paanch kos, pachaas gaj, angul ashta pramaan,
ta par Sultan hain, chuke mat Chauhan'

There was a very small indiscernible pause, which went unnoticed by everyone except the bard. Then in a fluid movement, the Rana turned to one side and let the arrow fly.

The Sultans expression did not waver. He did not clap. He sat motionless for what seemed like an long time. And then ever so gently, like the swish of the fans behind him, he slumped forward, his head held a little above the knees only by the three foot arrow jutting out of his neck.

Woman at the door

The nights in Vagale match up to your expectations of a Goan village night. A dark summer night devoid of streetlights, croaking flogs, chirping crickets, the ancestral home had it all. A power failure just added to the charm.

We settled in the dark living room, with a couple of candles burning on the centre table. In just a day, we had enthusiastically embraced the 'Sushekaat' principle, which every Goan langrously defends. Murmurs of post dinner conversation blended with the waters of Mandovi rippling some distance from the backyard. Cinema flowed into politics into family anecdotes. Befitting a lights out night, the conversation turned to local legends.

"Do you know", Mama started, "How the Dempo family became this rich?" Everyone in Goa knew the Dempos. In addition to mining interests, they ran a popular football team. Dempo & Salgaocars were the East Bengal and Mohun Bagan of Goa.
"They used to be a poor family, living on the outskirts of this very village. Appa Dempo lived with Tai in a small 2 room house with their five kids", Mama continued.
"Those were Portuguese times, and it was hard work filling 7 stomachs with what little Appa made from working as a clerk in the mines. He was neck deep in ancestral debt too. Turns out there was some trouble in the mines and Appa stopped getting his pay. With no money and no credit, it was clear the family was about to starve." Mama paused to let out a contented burp of mandeli and chicken cafreal.
We did not miss it.

"One evening, they were down to their last handful of rice. No one knew where the next meal was coming from. The family had barely sat together to eat their share of two spoons of boiled rice, when Appa heard someone at the door. He stepped out into the verandah to check. It was a woman, begging for food."
"Appa Dempo, what a man", Mama glanced reverently towards the sky, "did not hesitate and gave the entire bowl of rice to the woman. 'Atithi devo bhava' they say. You know, right?" We nodded, agreeing.

"The woman took the rice gratefully and looked up at Appa. Tai Dempo had arrived by Appas side by then. The woman's eyes met Tais. Tai turned around and walked back quietly into the house. She ran to the backdoor, into the back yard and jumped into the well. Tai had ended her life."

"What ??" We looked at each other. Everyone had a puzzled expression, I felt a chill down my spine.

"Meanwhile, the beggar woman came into the house. She walked into the inner room , in measured steps and without uttering a word, locked herself in." Mama paused, we weren't sure if it was for effect or an upcoming burp.

"You see", he continued. "The beggar woman at the door was Lakshmi - the goddess of wealth. Pleased with Appa's generosity, she decided to be in their house forever. That is why she locked herself in. And the Dempo family was never poor again. Even now they say, the Dempo mansion is built around that very room, which has never been opened in the last fifty years. Dempo is afraid Lakshmi might leave if the room is opened."

"What about Tai Dempo?"
"Well, Tai recognized Lakshmi for who she was. You know the woman of the house is the griha-lakshmi. And there can be only one Lakshmi in the house. So Tai knew she had to leave the Earth for the sake of her family. "

"They say though, if you are ever hungry and happen to peer into a well,you can see Tai beckoning you in the reflection…."

No one wanted to go for a night-walk that night.