Jambavati

She looked at the glowing amber gem in her hand and back up at the doe-eyed man standing at the gate of their settlement. He looked tired but determined. His yellow robes were spattered in the dirt. Still, his face spelled relief. With an arm outstretched, he took a step forward. Instinctively, she backed towards the wall. The gem slipped from her hand, and he picked it up. As he stood examining the gem, Jambavati examined him. 

He was tall and dark. He wore no crown, unlike the other hunters she had seen who had come close to their village. A few peacock feathers were braided into his long curled locks. Going against her better judgment, she drew closer to the man, running her fingers over the silky feathers. As she let her palm slip down to touch his fingers, she felt an ornate ring adorning his index finger. The sign of the moon, she recognized it from her father's trophy collection. The same motif she had seen on the ring that her father had brought home alongside the sparkling gem. A chill went down her spine. Had he come to avenge his friend? However, he seemed satisfied with having just acquired the gem and was now staring intently at her face. His demeanour seemed more curious than vengeful. Jambavati could've sworn that there was also a hint of longing in those ocean-deep eyes of his. Would he leave now? Why did he have to come at all, and make her so vulnerable, only to leave so soon?! She thought, her mouth dry. Suddenly, the booming voice of her father, the King of the village, startled them both. They both hurriedly stepped away from each other even as their eyes still begged to remain latched on to each other.

She watched in apprehension as King Jambavan, her father, rushed between the two of them, pushing her back and clutching the hand of her crying little brother. “Who are you? How dare you infiltrate my kingdom?!” 

The man smiled. “You do not recognize me, do you?” His eyes twinkled. The gem was still hidden in his palm. It sparkled through his fingers. They no longer were separate. Jambavati rubbed her eyes in disbelief. The mysterious ever-glowing gem seemed to have lost its uniqueness as a brighter aura emanated from him!

“Well,” he said, breaking the chain of her thoughts, “I must take your leave now, Sir. I need to get back to my place with this Syamantaka gem. It has wreaked enough havoc in my life, I just want to get it back to its owner.” Jambavan snatched the gem from his hand and threw it to Jambavati who held it close to herself, hiding it under the loose end of her cloth. Well, now you can't leave.

He slowly shook his head, still smiling. “This gem belongs to Srimanta Satrajit of Dwarika. He had lent this to his brother Prasanta, who was killed by a lion in the forest which took the gem with it. I’m assuming you are the one who killed the lion and brought the gem back here. I thank you for safeguarding it, but I must take it back now.”

Jambavan’s face contorted in rage. “Finders keepers, young man. This is the last chance that I am giving you to escape. Be gone from my land and never be seen again!” Jambavati thought to protest but looking at her father's blazing eyes, she controlled herself. Her father wasn't himself when he flew off the deep end. It had been an endless source of conflict between him and her mother, till the very day she had passed away from a rare disease. Since then, Jambavati had taken great care to not enrage her father, going as far as to hide her brothers' wrongdoings from him. After all, no one but their mother had ever been able to calm the King down when he lost his cool.

The man sighed, “Fine. At least lend me the gem for a week, so that I may show it to my countrymen and then bring it back?”

“I have no interest in this gem! It’s a gimmick for you foolish humans! However, it is my property now and I have given it to my children to play with. I will not snatch my child’s toy for a mere human! You will have to fight me if you want it.” Her father growled.

The man’s face hardened, “So be it.“  Jambavati's heart beat so loudly against her chest, for a moment she thought it was audible to him. Go, she wanted to scream at him, no one has ever defeated my father in battle!

---

Jambavan was the son of Brahma, the creator. He had spent aeons roaming the earth. They said there wasn't a single corner of the globe that he hadn't seen. He had made many friends and a lot more enemies. In the previous yuga, he had, upon the request of Surya, the sun god, taken up residence at the court of the Vanara brothers Vali and Sugreeva. He had then met Rama, the prince of Ayodhya, and travelled to Lanka to rescue his abducted wife. Jambavati often made him recount in great detail, the places he had seen and the people he had met while travelling across the land of Bharata. Of all the people Jambavan talked of, very few stood out to her. Hanuman, the magical monkey, was one of them. She had hardly been able to believe her eyes, when one day, the mischievous super-monkey from the realms of her father's stories had pranced into the village court.

Jambavan had rushed down from his throne to embrace him and kissed his forehead affectionately. "It feels like it was only yesterday that you were that green intern at Sugreeva's court. Look how far you've come, a regular superhero!" At dinner that night, he had introduced him to Jambavati. At ten years of age, Jambavati had not yet learned the art of subtlety. "Shouldn't you be dead already?" She had blurted out. Hanuman had laughed with such intensity, it had woken up a family of bats hanging from the huge banyan tree nearby. Then her father had explained how the goddess-princess Seeta had blessed him with immortality and immunity from fire. Turning to her father he had said, "See, as a fellow immortal, I have very few people I can be myself with!"

Later, he had demonstrated all his magic tricks to the children. Jambavati, along with her brothers, had taken great pleasure in flying into the night sky on his shoulders, and watching as he walked in and out of the fireplace, unscathed. Later, Jambavati had overheard him conversing with her father over late-night snacks. "Why didn't you help the kids? They needed more than a vague blessing from across the mountains!" Her father had asked their guest.

"Well, why didn't you?" Hanuman had retorted.

"I was depressed." Her father had replied.

"Well, so was I!"

"It was deeply unfair, what happened to them. For a while, I couldn't get that image out of my head. Even today, I see it so clearly in my mind! Seeta, with her eyes blazing and strands of matted hair flying in all directions, all while the ground swallowed her up! I couldn't sleep for so many months after that!" Her father had rubbed his temple. She shivered at the very thought of it. She had often tried to imagine herself in that goddess's place, but could never really relate to her.

Hanuman had nodded solemnly, "Yes, that. I had vowed to never return to Ayodhya when he exiled her! Even then, I had hung around the forests where she was, keeping an eye on the kids, but I couldn't resist when my Rama called me back for his yajna! And then his sons defeated and tied me up. Oh, how mother Seeta had laughed upon seeing me all trussed up. We both had such nasty flashbacks! It was the last time I saw her! Then, she set me free, with a bunch of snacks tied to my belt!" Hanuman laughed sadly, "Then she left, and then he did too. I had promised to take care of his people, anyone who loved and trusted him, but I couldn't! I lost my best friend, and I ran! I ran to the other corner of the world, drowning myself in penance, focusing my entire being on remembering what he was, so I didn't have to remember that he was gone!"

Jambavan had sighed, "So, what brings you back now, after a yuga?"

"I don't know, something in my heart said it's time." Hanuman had stared off into the direction of their house. Jambavati knew he was just drifting off, but somehow she felt he was looking straight at her through the crack in the door.

---

Jambavati watched, the gem still clutched to her heart, as her father duelled the dark-skinned man. Before she realized it, night fell. Both warriors paused their battle to pay obeisance to the Gods of the evening. As she fetched holy water for her father to perform his rites, he instructed her to bring some for the young man as well. As she offered the pail to him, he held on to her palm. For a little too long.

Twenty-eight days and twenty-eight nights passed by as Jambavati watched in amazement. The two men continued to fight. She was a little afraid as well. She had never seen her father unsure on a battlefield but this time, he clearly struggled. The young man used techniques that she hadn't even heard of. From the looks of it, neither had her father. Still, though barely, he kept up.

Every night, after midnight both warriors would retire for a few hours to rest. While Jambavan returned to his chambers, the man was allotted a room that could only be called a glorified dungeon. The first time that he had been escorted to the room by a handful of guards, he had laughed in their faces. "He really doesn't know who I am!" He had roared with laughter. Even then he had never openly complained about his prisoner-like treatment. Every night Jambavati would serve him the simple diet her father had ordained, while secretly bringing him delicacies that she saved from her own portions. Her father was annoyed at her insistence to wait on the stranger herself, but he did not object. After all, he seemed at least a man of honour.

Jambavati had discovered that once you got through the envelope of stoicism he had built around himself, the man really loved to talk! He had told her his name: Krishna Vasudeva. He told her about his wife, Rukmini, the one who had bravely orchestrated her own kidnapping to escape a forced marriage. "Do you think you can help me pass a message to her? Just to let her know I'm alive?" He had asked her one day, "I don't think your father will let me write any letters home!" He had smiled sadly. Jambavati had begged all her male friends that night, but no one had agreed to disobey their King. Jambavati had cried while delivering the bad news to him. To her surprise, he had smiled, even though his eyes were disappointed. Taking her palms in his hands, he had consoled her!

He would tell her stories about his island country, Dwarika, their homeland Mathura, and the fields of Vrindavan where he had grown up. Jambavati couldn't imagine this royal prince, elegance dripping from every cell of his strong body, running around chasing rogue cows, frolicking in a river, and stealing food from people's homes. In return, she would tell him the stories she had heard from her father. He seemed especially interested in Hanuman, asking hundreds of inconsequential questions. "Tell him to drop by Dwarika sometime if you see him, will you?" He said.

"Do you know him from before or something?" Jambavati had finally asked, tired of answering the same questions for the fifth time, "You sound like you want to catch up with him, but you need all the details first!" 

"Never seen him in this life!" He had laughed.

---

Finally, on the twenty-ninth day, Krishna had Jambavan, the King of all bears, laid on his back. Bewildered, Jambavati saw a strange recognition flash across her father’s face as a blinding light filled their little coven! She couldn’t discern the figure that was outlined under the light beam or the lilting words that rang but she clutched the wretched gem closer to her heart, praying. Suddenly, she found herself on an unknown seashore. Her father was hovering over her, his hands cupping her face. But, he looked way younger than she remembered. In her ears, her father's voice rang, "Oh, how I wish I had a daughter like you!" Turning back, she saw a dark-skinned man walk up to them. With a jolt she recognized, it was him: Krishna! However, he looked a little different, cautious and more guarded. He smiled briefly as Jambavam exclaimed, "I would like to marry my daughter to you, Rama!"

Jambavati gasped. But, it was Krishna, wasn't it? Or...? The man smiled indulgently, "Be careful what you say Brahma-putra," He put an arm around Jambavati, "This one's my one and only." She heard herself laughing. It was a different laugh, laced with a strange grief. "Also, you don't have a daughter!" She felt herself wrapping her arm around Rama's waist...or Krishna's? Her father scratched his head, embarrassed. Then, pointing at her, he spoke with renewed enthusiasm, "She's like my daughter only, let me perform a marriage for you two again! A vow-renewal? I would be forever blessed."

Jambavati wondered, if this man standing with an arm around her shoulder, leaning slightly on her, was Rama, then who did that make her? One and only? How could she be Rama's one and only? Wasn't that...her trail of thought was broken by Rama speaking kindly, "That's a lovely offer, but we must begin our journey immediately. My people await me! Maybe next time."

Jambavan suddenly grasped Jambavati's palms, nearly scaring her, "You must promise then, you will become my daughter at least once, if not in this life then surely the next! I promise I will spoil you rotten!" Jambavati again heard her own voice speaking of its own volition, "I will promise, on the condition, that you find yourself a pretty wife!"

In a blink, Jambavati found herself collapsed on the ground in the dark coven in their village. Her father had fallen on Krishna's feet, sobbing uncontrollably. As much as she was rooting for Krishna's victory, she became tearful looking at the state of her father. Though she dared not say a word, she beseeched him with her eyes. Krishna looked at her briefly, before sitting down beside her father with a smile on his lips.

A wave of relief washed over her as she saw Krishna gently lift her father up as he weakly beckoned to her. Quickly she went up close to them. Jambavan gently took her hand and placed it in the man’s palm along with the Syamantaka gem. “This, my dear, is Prince Krishna of Dwarika. Give him the same honour in your heart as you do our Lord Sri Rama! You are the most precious gem in my treasury and you also bear his Syamantaka. I hope I have your consent in offering your hand to him?” Turning to Krishna he said, "Consider this a promise fulfilled. I hope you take better care of her because I am not Janaka!" Jambavati looked to and fro between the men. They seemed to be conversing on a level beyond her comprehension. Still, she was elated to see Krishna solemnly nod his head in assent.

A wave of emotions swept over her. She felt her eyes welling up, her knees shaking as the prince looked at her shyly. Nodding her assent coyly, she slowly removed a pearl necklace and tied it around his slender neck, ready to follow him to his golden city.

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