Our former crown prince of Hastinapur trotted leisurely through the sun-bathed woods, breathing in the intoxicating scents of sandalwood and neem with half-closed eyes. The idyllic land of Jambudvipa was truly the manifestation of every pure heart’s desire; Yudhishthira’s face held a contented smile as he enjoyed the tranquility around him. Though aware of his activities in the Dwapara Yuga, he had happily settled into his new life, the enchantment of Jambudvipa making all else seem a distant dream.
His retinue walked some way behind him, exchanging news in whispers as they did not want to disturb their sedate prince. For Yudhishthira had been again reborn into royalty, a familiar state that matched his current calibre and attainments. With habituated ease, he ignored the mindless albeit entertaining gossip and switched to a fast trot. He wanted to reach the village before sunset so that he could spend some quiet time exploring its haunts, and hopefully, do some writing. Provided he first finished his princely duties, of course. Of course, thought Yudhishthira to himself with a rueful smile. As always, work first, fun later.
Soon, the group left the woods behind and wound their way past a hill, going more slowly now to avoid muddy patches. Enjoying the scenery unfold in a lush, cool, sun-speckled expanse around them, it was no surprise that a song soon graced their ears.
O koi aayega, aayega, aayega…..
Yudhishthira’s head whipped upwards as a lilting voice entered his ears.
Hamare Gaon Koi Aayega
Pyaar Ki Dor Se Bandh Jayega
Hamare Gaon Koi Aayega……
A smile crossed the prince’s features as he heard the words. Shading his eyes with his hand, he spied a group of girls dancing in a circle on the hilltop. As he watched, one of them broke away from the group and skipped down the slopes, tripping lightly to the drum beats. Her hands flew in the air as she gracefully swayed to the music; her white dupatta a shimmering mist of wind and sunshine against the azure skies.
The rest of the retinue watched as well, most of them merrily bobbing their heads to the peppy beats, some women even breaking into a few dance moves. Yudhishthira, well and truly caught by Kamadeva’s arrow, didn’t notice, and wouldn’t have objected if he had. Not a great dancer himself, he welcomed every opportunity to watch people who had mastered the cherished art of the Gandharvas. But what caught and held his attention was the voice (he picked up on one particular voice in the chorus that made his skin prickle pleasantly) that seemed to belong to the girl in white. He wished he could see her face; all he saw now was a whirl of coloured dupattas fluttering dizzyingly in the breeze.
Impulsively, he spurred his horse into a gallop. The song was over and the girls had scattered over the hillside. He might just catch a glimpse of that girl as she came through the fields.
“Why is the prince riding so fast?” asked a bemused courtier, watching in amazement as the prince swiftly rode down the country lane. His friend shrugged with a smile. “Well, it happens, you know,” he told his friend apologetically, “it’s that time of the year.”
“What time of the year?” asked his confused friend.
“Oh, come on, I’ll tell you later!” his friend pulled him forward, trying to keep the vanishing Yudhishthira in sight.
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Savitra rushed down the hill in a little jog. She could tell by the afternoon sun that it would soon be time to go to dance class. And she couldn’t be late. Besides, she still needed to have lunch.
Keeping her eyes on the ground so as not to trip, she entered the fields and raced through them. Expertly vaulting the stile, she landed with an undignified thud on the grass. She slowly straightened up, shoving stray curls away from her eyes, and stared at the object that had suddenly appeared before her. To be precise, the object was a young man on a horse. The horse was cute with a swishing snowy mane, but its rider…. Savitra’s thought processes screeched to a halt as their eyes locked; she blinked in bewilderment. Only once because she then continued staring, unable to break away from the soft, twinkly, auburn-tinted pools that were Yudhishthira’s eyes.
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Yudhishthira galloped as fast as he could, darting piercing gazes around him. He didn’t want to miss catching a closer look at whoever she was. Such a hopeless romantic, his mind shook its head, retreating into the saner parts of Yudhishthira’s soul.
Since he was busy talking to himself, Yudhishthira missed the flying figure in the fields; luckily, he caught sight of a blur near the stile and quickly reined in his horse, afraid that the blur would crash into his path.
Thankfully, the blur rolled on the grass and came to a stop. As it got up gingerly, Yudhishthira halted. He sat very still, his heart beating just a wee faster than normal.
As expected (’cause Kamadeva never does things by halves), he forgot himself completely when he looked into her eyes – black dancing swirls cascading into a luminous fountain of laughter. Continuing the staring fest with alacrity, his eyes glimmered with a smile as he watched the swirls slow down in ferocity, and turn into a spark of wonder.
Both Yudhishthira and Savitra’s cheeks blushed an interesting shade of crimson as they drank in each other’s eyes and figures. So beautiful, thought Yudhishthira dreamily, his lips curving into a smile, so sweet and slender and lovely and adorable; he ran out of adjectives at this point as a scrambling noise behind him indicated that the rest of his party had caught up with his swift pace.
Savitra’s eyes turned to the mass of people emerging from the trees and her big eyes turned even bigger. Yudhishthira didn’t think that was possible but loved the way her long lashes and thick eyebrows complemented her shapely eyes.
So this is the famous Yuvraj, whose exploits alongside those of his four brothers had set Bharata-varsha reverberating through the ages, Savitra told herself, looking mechanically at the lavish chariots, gifts, horses, bags of food and trunks of jewellery. She switched her gaze to the luxurious clothing and ornaments worn by the people, the impressive cavalry of soldiers and decorated elephants. It slowly dawned in her befuddled mind that she looked like she hadn’t had a shower in days: her hair clinging to the beads of sweat on her forehead, and her white salwar muddy from all the dancing. And being the chieftain’s eldest daughter made it no better. Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the group, pretending to be vastly interested in the banyan tree beside her.
Yudhishthira frowned a little, wondering why she had turned away; he looked towards his group again. Perhaps it was a bit overwhelming, all this magnificence. He had got used to it, but, obviously, not everyone was going to feel the same. Particularly, commoners. Still he was refreshed by the picture she presented; she seemed far more beautiful and sensible than his general acquaintance (she certainly looks sensible, he argued with himself); he loved her simplicity in face and clothing, he could see that she was tastefully dressed, without excessive jewellery. Quite a change from the usual jingle-shingle that adorned the rajkumaris.
“Hello,” Yudhishthira ventured hesitatingly. This sort of thing was usually a cake walk for him, but he had never before tried to talk to someone whose presence sent his heart whirling like a banshee.
Savitra looked up, raising her eyebrows a little at the prince. “Hello,” she replied, encouraged by Yudhishthira’s serene (or so she thought) manner and quickly scrutinising him. He seems sweet, and nice, she thought, possibly quite intellectual, even-tempered, has a soft, pleasant voice; slim and tall; not too muscly like the usual gang of kshatriya warriors; a sloping jawline and twinkly eyes; not gorgeously handsome but definitely adorable. She could see strength in the hands that held the reins so casually, and approved of the spear tucked inside a fold.
Yudhishthira’s heart flipped as he heard her voice; that’s the voice, he told himself exultantly. He opened his mouth to ask her name when his ever-faithful courtiers took over. “Is there something you want, little girl?” asked one of them, stepping towards Savitra.
“Little girl?” Savitra turned an astonished gaze at him. She was not a little girl!
Yudhishthira tried to intervene but another courtier butted in.
“This is Yuvraj Yudhishthira of Northern Jambudvipa. We are on our way to the village of Panchamrita. State your business, otherwise we will proceed.”
“No business,” replied Savitra calmly, although her insides were tossing in a heady current. “What business would I have with the Crown Prince of the northern lands?” she muttered the last under her breath but Yudhishthira heard it.
“What is your name?” he finally asked as the group started walking forward.
“Savitra,” she responded, resisting the urge to give her complete name and title.
Yudhishthira inclined his head slightly. “Nice meeting you, Savitra,” he gave her a last smiling look and signalled his horse forward.
“Technically, we haven’t met,” growled Savitra, now glaring at the retreating back of the prince.
As if he had heard her, Yudhishthira looked back again, and saw Savitra cross her arms and fling her plait over her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose at him and flounced down another path. Great, she’s annoyed. He sighed and looked away. What a great way to meet someone. He would probably never see her again.
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While eating lunch, Savitra thought about her encounter with the prince. By now the entire village was buzzing with news about his arrival. Every second some busybody would pop their heads through the door and give her the same piece of information. Which was why she was now sitting inside her room, with the door closed, and finishing the rest of her lunch in peace. The prince didn’t know that she was from this village, and Savitra intended on keeping it that way. Although that was a tall order, given that her father loved enrolling her into his public events as an impromptu event manager.
Yudhishthira, she rolled the syllables on her tongue, appreciating the sound of his name. Sighing, she tiptoed to the kitchen to wash her plate. Afterwards, she grabbed her bag, locked the house door and walked across the street to her dance class.
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In the lavish cottage allotted for the duration of his stay, Yudhishthira stood in front of the full-length mirror with his head tilted to the side. He rarely bothered about his looks; he left that sort of thing to Nakula. Naturally, the reflection almost seemed a stranger. Definitely not handsome, he grimaced, but then his face softened as he thought about Savitra. Maybe she wouldn’t mind, he thought hopefully. Wait till she sees your brothers, his mind chuckled gleefully, and he shushed it, annoyed, because he knew it was true.
He left the mirror with a sigh and started unpacking his trunk, neatly folding his clothes in the cupboards. Recollecting that he had some free time before dinner, he decided to explore the gardens behind the cottage. Stuffing a book and quill into a bag, Yudhishthira changed into his walking clothes, shut the door and went out of the gate into the fields beyond.
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“That was a wonderful demonstration. Has something eventful happened to you today?” her dance teacher quizzed her, secretly chuckling at Savitra’s attempts to mask her emotions.
“Nothing at all,” Savitra replied evasively. Luckily for her, her teacher soon called it a day and shooed all the shishyas out of the class.
Walking home after saying goodbye to her classmates, Savitra smiled over the incident for the millionth time. It was a lovely first meeting, out of the blue and extremely filmy. Pity that he had to go away so soon. He’s staying in the village, you know, her mind told her, all you have to do is go and knock on his door.
Ha! Savitra told herself. And say what? At this point, she tripped over her feet and fell with a whoosh on the pavement. You’d better watch where you’re going, her mind chuckled gleefully, there’s no prince waiting to catch you in his arms when you fall.
You are such a great comfort in my life, thought Savitra sarcastically and slipped into her shoes again. Breathing in the warm glow of the evening sunset and the relative silence around her, she crossed the road and entered her house, where she could see her mother lighting the evening lamps and her father noisily cooking dinner in the kitchen.
……………………………………………
The prince slipped his book into a convenient pocket and decided to gaze at the setting sun for a while. It was nearly dinner time; the village chiefs had promised some sort of entertainment on his first night. He wondered what it would be.
Back at the cottage, he leisurely changed into the resplendent clothes that would be expected of him as a prince. Encasing his feet in jewelled slippers, he trotted behind his escort through the narrow lanes to the big courtyard near the barns.
A flurry of activity greeted him when he arrived. He amusedly watched the cooks and helpers rushing around the open kitchens to make sure the food was ready; tiny children hiding behind the barns, staring curiously at him; men and women alike rushing forward to pay their respects. Quite used to these otherwise embarrassing formalities, Yudhishthira greeted everyone with his customary sweet smile, enquired after their well-being, and sat down on the carpeted seat specially reserved for him.
After dinner (and Yudhishthira could point out that it was a scrumptious one; he was so full that he would probably fall asleep in a few seconds), Yudhishthira sat beside the village heads and chatted about state matters for a while.
Meanwhile, in a barn not far away, a group of twenty dancers and musicians were preparing themselves for the concert. Everyone was excited but nervous too. This was their big night and they wanted to be perfect.
“You never told me why this concert was preponed,” hissed Savitra to her friend, a smouldering look in her eyes.
Her friend shrugged. “Guruji said that the heads thought it would be nice to have the dance tonight instead of tomorrow.”
“And you also never told me that this concert was for the prince!” Savitra accused her friend, frantically tying the jewelled waistband around her skirt.
“I thought you knew,” remarked her friend slyly, laughing at Savitra’s disgruntled face.
“No, I didn’t,” muttered Savitra, safe in the knowledge that no one could hear her in the din. “Otherwise, I would have given some excuse and not come!”
In case you are wondering why Savitra was in a barn at dinner time, let’s rewind a bit. Our reluctant heroine had finished her dinner and was washing up when a hammering on the door announced her friend-cum-neighbour. With the information that their concert had been preponed to that very night. Guruji had asked everyone to bring their costumes to the barns. Savitra, who had been looking forward to a peaceful night surrounded by dreams of a certain prince, was annoyed and flustered.
Her annoyance grew tenfold upon learning that the reason behind everyone’s sparkling excitement was the crown prince. She rolled her eyes and prayed to be whisked away to a faraway world. Since the gods wilfully decided not to pay attention, she was now stuck into dancing for the prince.
So much for avoiding him. Of course, he might not recognise her, but Savitra didn’t place much hope in that. She was sure he would and she was even more sure that her heart would flutter dramatically if she were to peep for even a millisecond into his bewitching eyes.
“Come on, the musicians have started playing!” hissed her friend, yanking her to the doorway. Savitra briefly closed her eyes to take in deep, soothing breaths. Here goes, she thought wryly, as she followed the other girls in an entry formation out of the barn.
………………………………………….
Yudhishthira smiled within himself as the music started; he loved watching dances. As he raptly watched them form concentric circles, his thoughts flew back to Savitra. For a moment, his eyes flickered with an unutterable emotion. There was no chance that she would be here.
He somewhat morosely watched a slender pair of ankled feet hop about the floor and whirl in impossibly giddy turns. If those feet swirl any faster, the dancer is going to break a toe, decided Yudhishthira, his eyes unconsciously leaping to the face attached to those feet. He caught a glimpse of an oval face with bright, laughing eyes before it vanished behind the pillars used as props. Forgetting to be morose, he craned his neck to find the elusive dancer. After a few minutes, he spotted her dancing on his right. A few more steps and she would be near enough for him to see her face, just a few more, closer now, closer…. right… finally….
…………………………………………
Savitra eyed the front of the ‘stage’ with misgiving as she twirled in the same spot thrice before following the line at the back. The dance had been quite good so far; she had soon lost herself in the beauty of the song and was now dancing rather recklessly, if the number of giddy turns was anything to judge by.
She mentally rehearsed the next few steps and automatically slowed down her tempo. It would take her to the front of the clearing: in fact, right under Yudhishthira’s nose. And as every dancer was trained to look straight ahead at the audience, she knew that there was a very high probability of her looking directly into twinkly brown pools.
Wheeee, her mind shouted in delight, finally some action…
……………………………………….
Yudhishthira triumphantly grinned as his eyes locked with the no-longer elusive dancer’s. One in a million chance, and yet, here she was; he couldn’t believe it; this must be a conspiracy pitched in heaven. Involuntarily, he chuckled, quite appreciative of fate’s twisted ways.
Savitra smiled back, unable to do anything else (such as grimace or glare) in front of the village heads, who were staring between her and the prince with undisguised curiosity.
Quickly floating to the prince’s left, she deftly pirouetted to stop right at the back. Bowing with the others in response to the deafening applause, she sneaked one last look at the prince before scurrying into the good ol’ barn.
Yudhishthira clapped enthusiastically, his eyes straining to see Savitra who was attempting to hide behind the crowd. “I’d like to be introduced to the dancers and musicians, if I may,” he said to the one of the chiefs sitting next to him.
“Of course,” the man agreed, a sly twinkle in his eyes. Not much escaped the village heads; they had seen the prince’s courteous attention switch to pure delight when one particular girl was in front of him. Oh, the entertainment to spice things up in this village, thought the chiefs happily, drowning their coffees and teas with one gulp, standing up as one man to lead Yudhishthira to the barn.
…………………………………………..
Savitra carefully wiped her glistening forehead, trying not to smudge the thick kajal framing her eyes. A quick scrutiny at the mirror assured her that all was well; she swept her accessories into a kit and bent to remove her anklets.
“Guruji says everyone assemble in the front barn now,” a head popped in.
Savitra looked up at Pritam, the flute player in the music group, and raised an eyebrow.
“Leave those on,” he insisted and Savitra hurriedly retied them. She followed him outside, wondering what on earth Guruji wanted now.
“Yikes,” she muttered under her breath as she drank in the scene before her.
All the performers stood in a straight line facing their guru, the village chiefs, and of course, the royal addition to their family party.
The crown prince was congratulating each performer. He praised the musicians for their sublime compositions, all the while sensing that Savitra was skulking at the back.
A shiny bead of sweat shimmered down Savitra’s face and landed on the tip of her nose. She cutely wrinkled her nose just as Yudhishthira swept into her sight; sighing, she fidgeted about for a handkerchief.
“Allow me,” said the chivalrous Yuvraj and fished out a kerchief from his dhoti (which conveniently had side pockets), stepping closer to her.
“Thank you,” muttered Savitra not daring to make eye contact with the prince. But Yudhishthira ignored her outstretched hand and took it upon himself to carefully dab her nose and eyelids with the kerchief.
Everyone smirked as they watched the byplay, the ones in front craning their necks to see what on earth was going on in the corner of the yard. All except the head chief, who lifted his eyes to the heavens in mock horror.
“That was a lovely performance,” said Yudhishthira softly and Savitra smiled, inclining her head slightly. Later, it occurred to her that she should have curtseyed like the others had. But at the moment, her head was whirling too fast to take note of this deviation from social norms.
“Ahem,” coughed the head chief, signalling Yudhishthira towards the door. The prince threw a last smile at the group, his eyes lingering on Savitra’s for a split second before he turned away and followed the chiefs out of the barn.
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Savitra rushed to her room, slammed the door and threw herself on the couch. What a day!, she closed her eyes in exhaustion. Her friends had all laughingly teased her and hinted at wedding bells. Huff. She got up and pondered her face in the mirror, only to find a reflection of the crown prince smiling at her. Her hands playfully swept across the mirror but the reflection dodged, and vanished with a cheeky smile. Great, now she was obsessed with him. An hour later, she leisurely changed into her comfy pyjamas and jumped into bed.
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Meanwhile…. Yudhishthira prowled in the woodland behind his cottage, wondering when it would be appropriate to go and visit Savitra. He had already discovered her address (from a reluctant head chief), and was mentally reviewing his entry speech to her parents. He decided to go around noon the next day; having reached this momentous conclusion, the crown prince quickly made his way back through the silvery shadows of the summer moon.
…………………………………….
“I’m back! What’s for lunch?” Savitra called out to an empty drawing room, dumping the five shopping bags on the floor. She removed her slippers, gingerly balancing on one leg. When no reply issued from the nether regions of the house, she clicked her tongue impatiently.
“Um… hello?” Savitra’s stomach growled a little grumpily, it was half past noon and it wanted its nourishment quickly.
Savitra swooped to the inner door and pushed it open. “Why isn’t….” her voice trailed off as her gaze swept past her smiling parents to a tall figure rising from the divan. “Yuvraj,” she said blankly. It was unnerving to see Yudhishthira at ease on her favourite divan, and to all appearances, chatting calmly with her parents.
“Bow, Savitra,” hissed her mother, throwing a shatteringly apologetic smile at Yudhishthira who twinkled back in amusement.
“What?” Savitra frowned at her mother. “Oh, yes,” she dipped into a half-hearted curtsy, almost tumbling over the carpet in her haste. Yudhishthira stifled a chuckle, but Savitra heard and threw a glare in his direction.
“Savitra, the Crown Prince has expressed a wish to be acquainted with you,” said her father (who turned out to be, much to Yudhishthira’s surprise, the head chief) – in resigned tones. He knew exactly where this was going and wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Has he!?” Savitra’s voice was laced with heavy sarcasm as she turned an astonished face towards the prince, who merely twitched his lips in laughter.
“Such an honour, I’m sure,” Savitra turned to her mother without giving Yudhishthira a chance to acknowledge the sarcastic compliment. “I’m sort of…. hungry,” she raised a pleading eyebrow at her parent.
“Shhh. We have a guest. First attend to him and then you can think about food,” her mother threw her an admonishing look before going straight out of the room, dragging Savitra’s father with her.
“But… wait… hello?” Savitra followed her parents only to have the door shut in her face.
Savitra stared at the wooden frame for a couple of seconds before turning to face Yudhishthira. “Can you believe that?” she exclaimed, gesturing towards the noise of vessels resounding from the kitchen. “I’m hungry!”
Yudhishthira now openly laughed, a sort of rippling gurgle that made tiny dimples spring out of his lean cheeks. “Let’s go have lunch somewhere, shall we?” he said.
“Where? We can’t barge into someone’s house!”
“No need for any barging. We’ll take a packed lunch. Leave it to me”. Without waiting for a reply, Yudhishthira went into the kitchens and soon emerged with two full baskets that made Savitra’s stomach rumble even louder.
“Shall we?” Yudhishthira gracefully gestured towards the door, and Savitra could do nothing but wrinkle her nose at him as they went out together into the beckoning sunshine.
To be continued…………………………………
A/N: Song lyrics: Sourced from the movie Professor (1962), song titled Hamare gaon koi aayega.
Savitra – OC. She joins our Mahabharata friends in the land of Jambudvipa (current age), where they embark on a new set of adventures (completely fictional) in their life’s journey.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to me, the author. Based on original sources. No copyright intended. Creative thoughts. No insult, harm, disparagement etc. meant to any person, living being, thought, or non-living entity. Completely fictional. No offence is meant to the actual story, authors or characters or any others who hold the text sacred and possess different views. This is merely a creative, personal take on the real story. All copyright of content belongs to the owner of this blog and cannot be reproduced or distributed without my permission.
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