Mela-Malla

2 months ago

proteeti

@sambhavami

The day of the festival of Jara dawned brightly at last. A mist of cheer hung over the city as the citizens all flocked the streets in their best clothes, visiting the variety of fairs and other entertainment that had been amassed to mark the occasion. Although the celebrations were carefully measured due to the recent widowhood of the two princesses, the citizens still endeavoured to make the best of it. In any case, the brahmins had never truly approved of it, especially given Jara, born a rakshasi, was uplifted to goddesshood only by the Emperor's obstinacy. He had after all threatened to cut off the priests' salaries if they didn't give their blessings. Despite this initial hiccup and the well-to-do citizens' subsequent scepticism, this festival had soon been adoringly adopted, especially by the people who had little else to celebrate. Now, even the wealthier sections of the society flocked to these fairs, participating enthusiastically, hoping to win the Emperor's favour.

The city had still dressed up to greet its king in splendour. Every decorated column had been rigorously polished and repainted, and flower garlands hung over the streets like canopies. Every family had been asked to buy and spread perfumes on the street in front of their houses, so that the royal officials stumbling this way were not embarrassed. Dedicated troupes dressed bright, coordinated dresses performed fast-paced folk dances, supported by enthusiastic drummers who whipped up a storm of melodies on their painted drums, a feat that seemed impossible unless one were to hear it themselves.

The fragrance of various local delicacies floated over the city, driving the children crazy as the mothers struggled to keep them from swiping at the roadside stalls. Most of them couldn't afford to buy from them anyway. The pedestrians also surreptitiously eyed the large vats of liquors lined up in the corners of each neighbourhood, ready to flow at sundown. That, and the offerings to Mother Jara at her homely temples were the only things that were available for the taking without an exorbitant price tag attached to them.

Radha had dragged Krishna out at the crack of dawn, despite the latter's protests on account of this being one of the only days that he could sleep in. However, once they had reached the fair even Krishna had cheered up considerably, especially after Radha had bought them a plateful of sweets to share. They had then run into Ramu. The boy had been eyeing a brightly-coloured lion-face mask, which Radha bought him, on the condition that Krishna too agreed to wear one. The rest of the morning the two lion-faced boys chased each other in the narrow streets, annoying the stall-owners to no end, as Radha stood in a corner, doubled over with laughter. They ran into the chief's family too, wherein the chief's wife proudly showed off the new dresses that she had bought, and her daughter-in-law beamed and blushed as she stood twirling the the hanging, silver nose-ring which her husband had quietly gifted. The chief's daughter too smiled at them shyly, even as the pile of things that her mother handed her to hold grew taller and taller.

However, they had to return soon. The arms factory was still open for half of the day, and Radha had to work. Also, the Emperor had ordered for a wrestling competition to be held in every neighbourhood in the afternoon, the winners of which would be awarded with positions in the expanding army. Participation was mandatory, except for the old and the sick.

"Must you go today?" Krishna complained, as Radha massaged oil on his arms and back, as per the customs of such matches.

"You know I have to," Radha pressed her palms into his arm, making him flinch, "War hardly stops for festivals!" The Emperor had declared war on Mathura the previous month. Weapons were flying off of the factory shelves at record speed and all hands were needed on deck to supply as per the demand. The government of Mathura, though weak at it's inception seemed to hold its own against Magadh's wide army, increasing the latter's desperation and fanning a wild array of tense rumours that pilfered through this joyous occasion.

The army of Mathura was led by a host of Gods!

Prince Balarama defeated armies just farming equipments!

Commander Satyaki had wings!

Commander Kritavarma had four arms!

Krishna couldn't help but laugh at some of the 'news' he overheard. Obviously, he would never say it aloud before these citizens, but internally he was bursting with pride for his brother and cousins. Expressing any positive emotions seemed impolite since very few soldiers returned, and none without lasting damage. He could hardly brag about his family when his neighbours were spending sleepless nights terrified of the impending marching orders that were surely heading for their own families. It was becoming clear even to the usually clueless farmers and cowherds that this was a dangerous mission. Radha was almost embarrassed to face the neighbourhood women who were living with reduced rations when he herself was earning exponentially more. She went out of her way to hide the fact that she had recently been promoted to a supervisory role (the only woman to be given the chance!) from everyone except Krishna. The two of them now went out of their way to still eat only boiled rice with pickle and sleep under a leaking roof so as to not offend their neighbours.

"Come on, now! You have to reach the grounds before the officers get here!" Radha chided, as she tied Krishna's curly locks into a tight bun, "Also, don't fight too hard! Remember, part of the first prize is also to meet the Emperor! Remember, we do not want that!"

Krishna nodded obediently as he stood behind Radha while she locked the door of their cottage even as she fired off more instructions.

When they reached the large hall, they saw that the centre of the community hall had been refilled with sand, and the men stood all around it, some warming up along the sidelines and some just stood staring at the empty ring. Krishna dropped his neatly packed tiffin-bag at a corner, and then lifted up and tied his amber dhoti at knee-level, tying his uttariya around his head for good measure too. He turned around shyly to see Radha silently giggling. "Shh," He pleaded, "Now, you're embarrassing me!" He added with a sly little smile as Radha raised an eyebrow.

Then, pulling him scandalously by his arm, "And Krishna," she whispered, "Don't lose the first round!"

With that, Radha floated out of the arena like a fairy, leaving Krishna grinning like an idiot.

---

The fights were at first determined by lottery, as multiple duels were organised in different parts of the same arena. Krishna's first round ended up being with Gandhavardhana, the lanky son of the local oil-merchant. He allowed the young lad to throw the first few punches even as he weaved through them, dodging each one. Krishna even let a couple punches hit his arm and chest. The crowd oohed and gasped with each blow and dodge. Once enough people were invested, screaming either his name or the young boy's, Krishna effortlessly lifted up the kid and threw him on the ground, gently holding him there until he conceded the fight. "Sorry!" Krishna whispered even as the boy retreated to his father, now sniffling, baulking at the defeat.

In the second round, a well-built man from the Emperor's garrison was paired with Krishna. He slapped his thighs menacingly, even as Krishna folded his hands politely. He had destroyed his previous opponents, sending them off in stretchers. When the bell rang to start the fight, his opponent immediately swiped at Krishna, aiming for his hair, which had come near undone in the previous fight itself. Blocking that blow with one hand, Krishna caught a hold of the man's belt in the other, easily lifting him above his head, before throwing him onto the ground with one graceful swoop. The audience, contrarily hissed at him, disappointed to not have such an anticlimactic end to the run of the candidate most of them were supporting. Some of the people who had placed various bets on the man's continued success, launched into jeers and shouts as the man ran, tail between his legs.

In the third round, Krishna was faced against Deviraaja, the chief's son. The quiet man, a little older than Krishna pulled up, sweaty from his previous duels. They both saluted each other as they circled the designated area. Having watched their performances, the two guests of honour, among the foremost commanders of the royal army, Hamsa and Dimbhaka straightened up in their thrones, whispering to each other.

Running at each other, Krishna and Deviraaja took a hold of the other's palms, locked in stance, digging in their heels in the sand, they both tried to push the other backward. Krishna smirked to himself: finally, a worthy opponent! Deviraaja loosened his hold for a split second, only to turn Krishna by his elbow at lightning speed, holding him in a choke-hold. Krishna too, grabbing his belt in one grasp and the hand around his own neck with another, turned his opponent across his shoulder and onto the sand with a satisfied grunt. Deviraaja however rose quickly, and slipping under Krishna's hostile embrace, took a hold of the latter's waist, attempting to push him off the arena. Krishna however, even in that stance, took a hold of the man's shoulders and began to push him in the opposite direction.

Even as he did so, through the corner of his eye, he spotted the twin generals, and he readjusted his bearings. Letting go suddenly, albeit with a turn he let himself fall dis-balancing them both, Deviraaja tumbling with him, onto a stray rock hear the edge of the arena.

---

Radha rushed towards their little cottage, adjusting her dress and veil, running behind Ramu, who had turned up at the factory, out of breath and belligerent.

Upon entering the hut, she found what looked like half the neighbourhood already gathered inside. Pushing through the crowd, she entered the little bedroom, where, to her horror, was lain Krishna, whimpering pitifully as the local doctor examined his leg. Deviraaja stood guiltily to the side, his face red with embarrassment despite his win.

"Your genius husband slipped and broke his leg!" The chief's wife piped up from somewhere. Radha sucked her teeth as, ignoring the crowd, she rushed to Krishna's side, softly cradling his head as she wiped off the sweat off his brow shushing at him even as the doctor worked on bandaging his right knee.

"I really don't know how this happened, dehi," Deviraaja launched into an rapid explanation, even as Radha tried desperately to stop him. He, in fact, stopped only once Krishna himself sat up with difficultly, forgiving his assumed transgression in flowery language. The oil-merchant had still started, "So, what happens to the play tonight-" He too backed off once he spotted Radha's glare almost boring a hole in his head.

When Radha managed to finally shoo off all their neighbours and lock the door of their house, she sat down beside Krishna and hit him in the arm as hard as she could.

Krishna sighed exasperatedly, "I thought this is what you wanted?"

"I wanted you to get out of the competition and avoid seeing the Emperor; not break your leg and sit at home!" Radha cried.

"Trust me, Radhe, this was the only surefire way to achieve that," Krishna said with a pained smile, "Besides, it's not that bad. You heard the doc: this will heal in a few months!"

"And what about how bad you made Devi feel? He was almost tripping over himself to apologise even when it was you who caused this in the first place! What do you have to say about that?"

"He was a good opponent, and he has been trying to impress his wife for so long, that introverted idiot! I thought he deserved the win!" Krishna cooed, "At least his wife will truly enjoy the play tonight!"

Radha shoved him again, but this time more playfully. Krishna though shook his head. Ignoring all of Radha's half-angry protestations he announced, "Fetch me those crutches they left by the door now, please! I have an orchestra to conduct!"

"This doesn't make less angry," Radha complained, and yet she did as Krishna wished. She could hardly ever stop him, once Krishna had decided on a path to take. It was the same way when he had left Vrindavana, it was the same way when he came back, and it was the same way now.