Chapter 213

Chapter 296: The Foreshadow of a Fable

When it was nearly dusk, the moment of the Ceremony had arrived and the invitations, which had been sent all over Arhasia, flocked multitudes to the Raizada hilltop.

The Gupta family had arrived early in the afternoon to spend more time with their daughter and help in the final arrangements. Master Happy had offered to take Mistress Madhumati to the North Village from where they fetched Master Shashi and Mistress Garima along with them to their thrilled destination.

Payal, Ram and Kushi were overjoyed to receive them so early and soon, as the sky turned a golden hue of pink, the festivities commenced in euphoric eminence.

Baby Anarkali took an enthusiastic interest in the happy commotion of her massive home. Besides, she was having a privileged moment, being carried about and teased by everyone around her.

The General alone detached himself from the jubilation. Even when the guests from the villages arrived and everyone thronged within the festively-decorated ballroom, the General stomped about, sulking in the living room. Since it was not a masquerade ball, he had no disguise to camouflage or conceal himself from being noticed by Mistress Madhumati who was still not privy to the looks of him and would retaliate in recognition.

It was amazing how long he had dissuaded her sight and fortuitously contained his secret, but he knew the day was not far when some accident or fateful turn would bring her to find his true shades and reveal it to the world.

This he couldn't tempt to transpire and so abstained himself from all joyous encounters within the Castle.

But when the candles were dimmed in the ballroom, in commencement of the play, the General was comforted by the darkness which helped avoid contact with the audience. Thus self-assured, he stepped into the ballroom and stood by the shadowy door, the vantage from where he could glimpse both the platform and the sea of heads seated around the ballroom in anticipation of the play.

The Orchestra commenced on a slow, solemn tune and the stage revealed an aged man lying vacuously on his bed.

Some random actor provided narration, "There was an old man, who had not lived a rich life, and could leave his three sons no home or land as valuable inheritance. However, when he was on his death bed and knew his time had come to bid farewell to life, he called his three sons to his side."

Three moderately-dressed younger actors appeared on the platform, moving closer to the bed in the centre and all three came to stand by the farthest edge of the bed, so that the audience could glimpse them clearly.

As the three men looked down on their ailing father-figure, the old man lifted his unsteady hand and gave each son a tiny wooden box.

The narration continued, "He handed them a tiny box each and told them those contained what he wanted each of his sons to have. But he asked them to open their boxes only after he had died."

The three men on the stage held their boxes and forlornly gazed at their aged father as the light dimmed on the stage. The narration continued, "Before long, the old man died. When the fourteen days of mourning were over, the sons took it upon themselves to open their respective boxes. The first son opened his wooden box and found in it a single seed."

The light brightened and the stage was revealed to have a solitary man in the centre, holding a tiny box open and looking dismally into it.

"He was certainly disappointed by the find but valuing his father's last gift to him, he sowed the seed."

The man was shown dropping the seed into a pot and pouring water over it.

"Remembering his kind father, he took good care of it until, one day, it grew into a tiny sapling and then into a tree."

The light dimmed and, in an instant, it brightened again, revealing on the stage, in place of the empty pot, a massive tree with golden fruits that glistened in the light of the stage.

"A tree that bore fruits, so rich in taste and healing if consumed, unlike any fruit that was to be found on earth."

Lots of other sundry actors appeared on the stage, dancing around the tree, plucking the fruits and some paying the first son gold coins in return for the fruit.

Then the light dimmed again and when it was illuminated again, the stage was empty except for a single actor on the stage, who was opening the box in his hand.

"The second son opened his wooden box and found in it a metal chisel."

The actor, enacting the second son, took the narrated chisel out of the box and held it up as though to look at it but, it was understandably intended for prospect of the audience. The metal chisel was almost silver, glinting white in the light of the stage.

Then the light dimmed and when it returned, the second son was shown to use this chisel on a beautiful statue.

"Respecting his father's wishes, he became an apprentice to an accomplished artist and made such fine sculptures that kings would pay him promisingly just to be chiselled on stone by his heavenly craft."

A richly-attired actor, with a fake potbelly and a crown on his head, appeared on the stage and dropped golden coins in the second son's hand as both gazed in marvel at the statue.

The stage dimmed again and when the light came back, there was the third son on the stage, scowling into his tiny box that stood opened.

"The third son, the most ill-thinking of the three, opened his box and found a pebble in it."

The actor on the stage picked the said object from inside the box and held it before him, skilled anger rising on his face.

"Distasteful of his father's parting gift to him, he pocketed it and never spared it another look."

The third son, on the stage, threw aside the box in his hand and thrust the pebble into his pocket, his annoyed look turning to one of conceit.

The General, who stood in the shadow watching the enactment, frowned at this scene.

The stage had darkened as the narration continued, "Enraged that his father had given his brothers gifts that found them fortune while he was deprived of it, he wished ill for his brothers and sought to bring disaster."

At this juncture, the orchestra played a sweeping, haunting music. The light on the stage returned for a flash just to show the third son axing the tree of golden fruits and then the stage turned dark, before igniting again to show the third son stealing the sacred chisel.

The music rose in trepidation and the audience gasped as they watched in aesthetic alarm, the third son running across the platform, chisel in hand, and the dim background revealing the painting of a forest.

He was running across the stage when he tripped midway, falling face forward on the floor.

The narrator continued in a stirring voice, "As he fled in the dark with the chisel in hand, he tripped on a log and fell to the ground. The chisel that slipped from his hold as he fell, flew down and the sharp edge of the blade landed in his heart, wounding him deep."

The fallen actor turned to lay on his back and the audience gasped on sighting the protruding chisel handle, the blade of which seemed to be stuck deep into his chest. Red liquid oozed out from the chest of the actor as he lay writhing in sublime pain.

Slowly he turned his head in the direction of the audience. The General gulped.

"In his last moments, he looked sidewards and saw the forgotten pebble from his pocket, rolling across the ground and into a tiny puddle."

Enacting this on the stage, the pebble rolled out, not from the actor's pocket but from his hand, and the grey pebble careered across the platform, watched by a million rapt eyes, until it landed in a little pool of water at the other end of the stage.

The music turned mellow for a moment and then rose in thrilling tenor as the audience watched the pebble transform in the water.

"There, as he watched in horrific dismay, the grey tinge of the pebble faded away and in its place was a tiny globe of gold which was the last sight he beheld."

The audience watched in hushed horror as the tiny sphere of gold shone in the stage light amidst the glistening grey-stained water in which it lay, and the actor's eyes began to roll and his eyelids closed as the lights dimmed slowly, lingering on the faint silhouette of the chisel sticking out from his chest.

There was a hush in the crowd as the darkness of the stage settled on them with the pathos of the moralistic plot but the General stood scowling in the aftermath of the unveiled plot. A shadow appeared behind him.

"I hope you liked the play," whispered the shadow behind him in a threatening tone.

The General's hands fisted. The hair on the back of his neck crawling at the thought that his enemy was standing right behind him. The ballroom was still in pitch darkness. No one would notice if he were to turn around and punch him right in the face.

Just then the lights appeared on the stage and the entire medley of actors appeared on the dais, smiling and waving. Then, together, they held hands and bowed to the audience who greeted them with agreeable applause.

Overjoyed by the audience's appreciation, the actor who was in the appearance of the old man, pulled off his white beard and hair and threw it in the air, revealing a charming young actor.

The audience apparently loved this little antic of the actor and roared with greater applause for the whole company's performance.

Disgruntled by the whole thing, the General swept out of the ballroom that was being illuminated again. As he strode across the hallway to the living room, he was halted by the voice of his enemy, "I know what you're up to."

The General turned around, his vain eyes glinting evilly, "Really? What do you know?"

The challenging tone of the General only enraged Lord Arnav more as he stepped towards him, closing the calculative distance between them.

"You're trying to escape," confirmed Lord Arnav in a contemptuous whisper, as he frowned at the indignant man before him.

"What makes you think that?" the General asked casually, unperturbed by the First Lord.

Thinking it wise not to reveal his knowledge about the surreptitious ship (for the First Lord had intentions of catching him red-handed in that matter), Lord Arnav gave him a slicing look and said, "I've interpreted it by the hints. Of course, you know well that I'd love to see you disappear from the face of the earth for all eternity. But I will NOT allow it at the expense of destroying the ones I care about."

In retort, General Jha produced a cunning sneer but, within, he worried distrustfully if Lord Arnav truly DID know about his plan.

The men would have proceeded with this verbal confrontation, which had the potential of turning into a physical one, if a certain someone had not appeared out of the ballroom seeking her husband.

"Arnavji?"

Lord Arnav turned around to find his wife there, dressed in that bewitching red gown he'd bought for her with diamonds in her hair.

How beautiful she looked, immaculate in every sense!

Suddenly, he remembered the General and he looked over his shoulder to scowl at him for ogling at his wife, but found that he was not there.

Frowning, Lord Arnav scanned the hallway but found no sign of his departing form.

Kushi appeared before him, her arms circling around his neck as she lovingly looked up at him, "I must say, at first I despised the whole idea of that play but the actors and orchestra did a fine job of elevating your lousy plot."

Lord Arnav smirked smartly at her, "Are you admitting you liked it?"

"No," Kushi said importantly, "You are still the worst playwright alive on this planet but you are the most thoughtful host of this wonderful occasion. The guests loved your surprise and, for that, I love you."

Venerated, Lord Arnav leaned down and kissed his wife on her lips, and he held her in that savoury union for a long time, drinking deep and encouraging her to delay, as her fingers ran through his hair and pleaded him to continue his loving, all the while being watched by a heart that was embittered and darkened with envy by the sight that was far from beautiful to him.