Devdutt Pattanaik

The sight of a Ashoka tree in full bloom excited him. ‘Nature is so beautiful. So alive.’ Shilavati wanted to ask questions. He would stop her. ‘Don’t. Just enjoy the sight. Feel the bird flying. Don’t reason with it. Experience it. This is life as it should be, Bharya.’

She loved that he addressed her as Bharya. Bharya. Wife. Vishnu’s Lakshmi. Shiva’s Shakti.

Prasenajit asked her once, ‘Do you know why Ileshwar becomes Ileshwari every new moon night?’

‘No,’ said Shilavati.

‘I think because he loves his wife so much they merge into each other with the waxing and waning of the moon. They are not two, but one, as man and wife should be. As you and I will be.’

Once, while wandering in the woods, they came upon the carcass of a wild buffalo teeming with maggots. ‘How disgusting,’ cringed Shilavati.

‘I don’t think the maggots will agree with you,’ said Prasenajit. Shilavati realized the wisdom in her husband’s simple words. The human way is not the only way in this world.

Prasenajit encouraged Shilavati to use his bow. ‘Women are not allowed,’ she said.

‘Rules are made for the city. In the jungle, desire reigns supreme. You get what you want, if you are willing to fight for it,’ said Prasenajit, showing her how to place the arrow and draw the string.

Shilavati remembered her great joy when she shot her first arrow. The sense of achievement. He picked her up, placed her on his shoulder and ran along the river bank, announcing her victory to the uninterested birds of the forest.

Order is dharma and dharma is Vishnu. Vishnu holds in his hands not only the conch-shell trumpet of war but also the lotus of diplomacy. Diplomacy has served us well. It may not have brought glory but it has brought stability.

Draupadi had apparently told Kunti that if she wanted her to be woman enough to satisfy her five sons, her five sons had to be men enough to make her queen of their rightful inheritance.

When you cross the gates of the city, the king of Udra will look out of his window and tell his queen, “There comes the crown prince of Vallabhi. If our daughter chooses him, she will be his chief queen and we will have a king as our son-in-law. Krishna is no king. Shikhandi not even a man. Arjuna shares his kingdom and his wife with his brothers. And the Kauravas? Their father clings to a crown that is rightfully Pandu’s. Let us encourage our daughter to select Yuvanashva instead.”’ Shilavati paused. She saw her son’s eyes gleaming with excitement. ‘Sometimes Gandharvas have to be clever to get the Apsara,’ she said.

‘And for the bridal gift, I will give her a game of dice painted on cloth,’ said Yuvanashva.

‘What? A game of dice!’ asked Shilavati, taken by surprise. Then she smiled indulgently, realizing how little her son knew about women. ‘I think she would prefer a necklace of pearls or gem-studded armlets.’

Yuvanashva looked into his mother’s eyes. ‘No mother. No woman really wants that. A woman wants to know she is loved and appreciated and honoured. There is no greater sorrow for a woman, or for a man, to sit bejewelled knowing that nobody loves them or cares for them or appreciates them or honors them. A string of pearls or a gem-studded nose-ring will indicate my current fortune. But fortune does not last forever. Tomorrow, I may lose my kingdom, as Nala lost his, as Rama lost his, as Harishchandra lost his. My wife must continue to walk beside me, on my left side, close to my heart, whether I sit on the throne or walk in the forest. I want the princess of Udra to know that I invite her to reside in my heart and enjoy with me the game of life. What better way to express it than with a game of dice, each throw of the die filled with the uncertainty of Yama’s account book, each movement of the coin brimming with the assurance of Kama’s arrow.’

‘Where did you learn all this?’ said Shilavati, feeling proud of her son.

‘I hear everything you say, mother, when I sit behind you in the audience chamber. The bards whisper that you married my father to rule Vallabhi but I know you married him because you loved him. I watch you gaze at the bow he gave you. That look, mother, is what I would like my wife to have when she looks upon me.’

Shilavati felt a lump in her throat. She saw her husband smiling on the other side of the Vaitarni. Before him was the game of dice rolled out. He was waiting for her to make the next move.

‘Some would call it a miracle. Careful of the word unnatural. It reeks of arrogance. You are assuming you know the boundaries of nature. You don’t. There is more to life than your eyes can see. More than you can ever imagine. Nature comes from the mind of God. It is infinite. The finite human mind can never fathom it in totality.’