MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) by Ashok K. Banker Page B
Authors: Ashok K. Banker
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face and those rock-like shoulders and arms that had been the first things she had seen after the days and nights trapped in the darkness of the well and to her eyes, Yayati was no less than a celestial being descended from heaven to rescue her. It’s my saviour! The handsome young king who saved me from the well!
Yayati froze at the sight of so many women. He had not expected to see this desolate neck of the woods bustling with hundreds of young attractive women. His first thought was that he had blundered into some queen’s entourage and he turned the head of his horse, intending to ride away. His destination had been the river and he could find another route to reach it. He glimpsed a richly dressed young woman seated on luxuriant blankets, getting her feet massaged by a maid and assumed that to be the queen or princess. Rather than risk causing offense by his intrusion, he started to ride away.
To his surprise, a voice called out. ‘Yuvraj! Yuvraj Yayati! I beg you, please wait!’
He turned around again, surprised at hearing his name called out. He saw the princess or queen who had been having her feet massaged rise and come towards him, her maid accompanying her. It took him a moment or two to recognize the mud-encrusted half-wasted vision he had found at the bottom of the well in this plump, painted and preening princess.
‘Yuvraj Yayati,’ she said, laughing as she caught hold of the reins of his horse. ‘Do you not recognize me? It is I, Devayani daughter of Maharish Kavya Ushanas whom you rescued from that very well! Pray, dismount and speak with me awhile.’ She snapped off instructions to her maids to make suitable seating arrangements for the king, letting the sharp edge of her temper show without restraint.
Yayati was conscious of the enormous crowd of curious ogling young girls surrounding them on all sides. From the manner in which they all deferred to Devayani and obeyed her commands, they all appeared to be maids to Devayani. There appeared to be hundreds of them. He knew queens who had fewer maids! Had she not said she was the daughter of a Maharishi? And she lived in a simple forest hermitage. How had she come by so many maids? And who was that particular maid, the one who had been massaging Devayani’s feet when he rode up, the young girl with the coy, arch look and svelte body. The way she had been bent over as she massaged her mistress’s feet, a woman amongst women and therefore unconcerned with her appearance, she had revealed more than a little of her exquisite physique and even after she saw that a man was approaching, she had been in no haste to conceal her finer points. He found her powerfully attractive. In contrast, the vision he had rescued from the well had turned into an overfed spoiled and over-decorated princess somehow. He was intrigued by the maid in appearance and by the story of the mistress now. It was the only reason he decided to linger awhile.
After pleasantries had been exchanged and suitable decorum shown to the visiting royal, Yayati asked the question that was pressing him. ‘How many maids do you have, Devayani? And how did you come by them and by all this luxury? It is not usual for a rishi’s daughter, is it?’
She smiled proudly. Her every word and mannerism reeked with the self-indulgent officiousness of the recently enriched or ennobled and was offputting in the extreme. He had seen many merchants and lower class individuals change and put on such airs overnight when struck by a sudden windfall, inheritance or change of circumstances. He had always found it unsavoury. In Devayani’s case, he found it even more unpalatable because he had been so besotted with the vision in the well, and that vulnerable, intense young wraith he had rescued had suddenly changed into this self-indulgent pompous ass! Almost every word out of Devayani’s mouth seemed to be about herself or expressed her views on various things.
She told him briefly that she had
Yayati froze at the sight of so many women. He had not expected to see this desolate neck of the woods bustling with hundreds of young attractive women. His first thought was that he had blundered into some queen’s entourage and he turned the head of his horse, intending to ride away. His destination had been the river and he could find another route to reach it. He glimpsed a richly dressed young woman seated on luxuriant blankets, getting her feet massaged by a maid and assumed that to be the queen or princess. Rather than risk causing offense by his intrusion, he started to ride away.
To his surprise, a voice called out. ‘Yuvraj! Yuvraj Yayati! I beg you, please wait!’
He turned around again, surprised at hearing his name called out. He saw the princess or queen who had been having her feet massaged rise and come towards him, her maid accompanying her. It took him a moment or two to recognize the mud-encrusted half-wasted vision he had found at the bottom of the well in this plump, painted and preening princess.
‘Yuvraj Yayati,’ she said, laughing as she caught hold of the reins of his horse. ‘Do you not recognize me? It is I, Devayani daughter of Maharish Kavya Ushanas whom you rescued from that very well! Pray, dismount and speak with me awhile.’ She snapped off instructions to her maids to make suitable seating arrangements for the king, letting the sharp edge of her temper show without restraint.
Yayati was conscious of the enormous crowd of curious ogling young girls surrounding them on all sides. From the manner in which they all deferred to Devayani and obeyed her commands, they all appeared to be maids to Devayani. There appeared to be hundreds of them. He knew queens who had fewer maids! Had she not said she was the daughter of a Maharishi? And she lived in a simple forest hermitage. How had she come by so many maids? And who was that particular maid, the one who had been massaging Devayani’s feet when he rode up, the young girl with the coy, arch look and svelte body. The way she had been bent over as she massaged her mistress’s feet, a woman amongst women and therefore unconcerned with her appearance, she had revealed more than a little of her exquisite physique and even after she saw that a man was approaching, she had been in no haste to conceal her finer points. He found her powerfully attractive. In contrast, the vision he had rescued from the well had turned into an overfed spoiled and over-decorated princess somehow. He was intrigued by the maid in appearance and by the story of the mistress now. It was the only reason he decided to linger awhile.
After pleasantries had been exchanged and suitable decorum shown to the visiting royal, Yayati asked the question that was pressing him. ‘How many maids do you have, Devayani? And how did you come by them and by all this luxury? It is not usual for a rishi’s daughter, is it?’
She smiled proudly. Her every word and mannerism reeked with the self-indulgent officiousness of the recently enriched or ennobled and was offputting in the extreme. He had seen many merchants and lower class individuals change and put on such airs overnight when struck by a sudden windfall, inheritance or change of circumstances. He had always found it unsavoury. In Devayani’s case, he found it even more unpalatable because he had been so besotted with the vision in the well, and that vulnerable, intense young wraith he had rescued had suddenly changed into this self-indulgent pompous ass! Almost every word out of Devayani’s mouth seemed to be about herself or expressed her views on various things.
She told him briefly that she had
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