Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
I have no chance to question Romasha, whom I barely see outside of my lessons, and whom I don’t know well enough. I cannot be obvious with Anirudh, whom I do see all the time and have come to know, because how would I truly begin? I cannot simply spring it in conversation, asking them to divulge the secrets they are undoubtedly keeping for Kaushika. The sage himself does not return to the hermitage, and I feel his absence like a hole carved into my side. My eyes search for him constantly, at the morning practice, at my lessons, even drifting again to his cottage where no candles glimmer in the night.
The conversation I overheard at the lake plays in my mind over and over again. I reassemble the picture of Kaushika incessantly while the Initiation Ceremony looms closer. A part of me blubbers in anxiety at how I am making no progress in my mission nor in the mortal magic I pretend to do. Week after week passes, and everyone but me already knows what they will demonstrate for Kaushika during the test.
Kalyani delves into her breath for physical strength and speed. From one blink to another, she can now circle twice around the hermitage. Anirudh’s own skill is even more impressive. When I drop a book, he raises my arm to pick it up. That he can use his magic to influence other people’s limbs … Even Indra cannot do so—only influence through his potency.
Each yogi is similar in some way, performing astounding feats of magic. While lessons are still conducted, several people no longer attend, focused instead on their personal learning. I am one of the few who is asked to attend every class, my inability to form runes now common knowledge. My capacity to hold great magic has become irrelevant. Even though I tell myself I am not here to learn mortal tricks, the prick of humiliation stings me when the other students give me looks. No one is awed by me anymore. They agree with Anirudh; I came too late. They agree with Kaushika; I will be gone by the end of the month.
That end stares at me unblinkingly as the days trickle by. Panic bubbles within my chest with the rush of a waterfall, and I do my best to ignore it. I recall Kaushika saying to the guru how he will ensure unworthy students will leave. I am simultaneously impatient to see him, to carry on with my mission, and terrified he will ask me to go when he learns of my failures. When nearly a month has passed with nothing to show for it, I grow desperate enough to become blunt.
“Doesn’t Kaushika do this himself?” I ask.
I am with Anirudh and Kalyani, the three of us on a rare break from our many practices and chores. We are within the pillared pavilion, kneeling in the center by the simple cylindrical shaft of Shiva’s altar, the lingam. Outside, rain has finally begun pattering after weeks of mockery, and I stare at it longingly, wishing to run into it, dance within it with abandon. Instead, I tear my gaze away and glance at my mortal companions.
Anirudh nods. “Ordinarily, yes. But he has not been in the camp for days now. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”
Air ripples around him as he chants, a slow, melodious hum that cascades in waves, lifting with the breeze. The lingam, made of black marble, glows with the mantra. Sparkles radiate off it, and I feel its bare power washing over me, settling in my stomach with heat.
I take a few wildflowers from the basket in my hand and arrange them artistically around the lingam. The flowers were my idea; I had to ask Anirudh’s permission to be allowed to leave the hermitage to gather them from the forest. I have no great devotion to Shiva beyond what is expected from me as a celestial, but if Anirudh is to report to Kaushika on everyone’s devotion to the Destroyer, this act will only help me.
As it is, the flowers are the only ornamentation by the cylindrical lingam. Ascetic as these people are, they deny beauty itself. An unadorned flame burns in front of the altar, held within an earthen lamp and powered by tapasya. Representing the devotion of the hermitage toward Shiva, the flame must never go out. Anirudh closes his eyes, and the mantra becomes a murmur. His magic whistles through the pavilion as the flame rises into a tall, slim pillar of fire. Next to us Kalyani joins her hands and releases her breath in a deep exhale at the same time. Flowers meander up from my basket, swirling around the pillar of flame, then settling on the floor when the flame subsides. She raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say, This is how you do it. She has tried to make me use runes for every chore, hoping I will learn, but I have never been less interested in a magic that is not mine.
“It seems so hard to keep the flame burning with your power constantly,” I say, still focused on Kaushika. “Does it not tire you?”
Anirudh leans back, satisfied and relieved by the consecration. “Romasha and I take turns in Kaushika’s absence, though I admit it will be a relief when he is back.”
I make a sympathetic sound in my throat. As casually as I can, I say, “Where did he go?”
Anirudh’s tone is as casual as mine. “Why do you want to know?”
I shrug. Reveal your lust , I whisper in my mind, and a shape forms behind my eyes, the same one each time I have looked into Anirudh’s desires. An image of him, kneeling at Kaushika’s feet, asking to be blessed.
The first time I saw it, I was startled. Were Anirudh and Kaushika lovers? Is that why Anirudh followed him from their kingdom? Can it be that Kaushika is not interested in women at all? It would hardly matter to my seduction; instead of showing him my own form, my illusion would simply have taken the presentation of me as a man. It is something I’ve done many times before with marks.
But I now know it is not lust for Kaushika that guides Anirudh. It is a desire to make Kaushika proud. On my arrival to the hermitage, I mistakenly thought that the revelation of my power would turn the other disciples against me and make me a target. I have learned since then that such competition is hardly something the yogis care about, an antithesis to how matters occur within Amaravati among the apsaras. The yogis here want me to succeed in my magic. They want to raise Kaushika’s prestige and that of the hermitage. As strange as this way of thinking is, it is something I can use.
“I want to please Kaushika,” I say. “If he is back soon, I can show him how I wish to serve the hermitage. Just like the rest of you.”
“Pleasing him should not be your concern,” Anirudh says, surprising me. “I understand the desire—he is a forceful man, his own power calling to all of us like moths to his flame. But that is not why you are here, is it?”
“I am here to train. I haven’t been able to create a single rune, but if he teaches me—”
“If he has not helped you so far, he won’t now either, no matter how much you ask him.”
“But why?” I drop my pretense as my anguish becomes apparent. “What have I done?”
“Nothing. He is entitled to his decision, however. Do not concern yourself with what he’s doing or where he is going, Meneka. He travels often on personal business. He’ll return when he wants to. We do not keep track of him, and his rules are his own.”
“He is being unreasonable,” Kalyani snaps. She turns away from adorning the flowers around the altar, and puts an arm around me. “Why allow her in and then leave her untrained?”
“She isn’t untrained,” Anirudh replies. “She goes to lessons. She meditates. Kaushika created this hermitage, he brought us together, but he cannot train us personally, not by tradition. He is not allowed to do so according to the dictates of the Mahasabha and the agreement with the other sages. He is only allowed to share secrets he knows to those who are worthy, and the Initiation Ceremony will determine who is worthy. Until then he must follow the path of withdrawal, of only observing and not interfering, of guiding and suggesting, but not training. Why do you think he only challenges us instead of providing answers even when we argue philosophy? We are meant to come to an understanding of our own power and path without interference. That is why he does not train any of us yet, not even me or Romasha.”
“But Meneka is clearly struggling,” Kalyani protests vehemently. “His withdrawal right now amounts to watching an innocent creature drown simply for the sake of noninterference. It is cruel and heartless.”
“It is the ascetic method,” Anirudh says gently. “What he is doing with her is no different from your own training, Kalyani.”
Kalyani scowls deeply. Though the both of them have been helping me, she has gone above and beyond, trying to teach me specific breathing practices. She has shown up at my door late at night, using the power of her own tapasya to facilitate my focus. In the beginning, she was reluctant to disrespect Anirudh by disagreeing with him, but the closer she and I have become, the more she has voiced her displeasure at how I am being treated.
I press her hand in gratitude, knowing that her frustration has to do with me as well as Kaushika. Several times, I have almost let slip in my own aggravation how she cannot teach me no matter how much she tries. Only picturing Rambha has helped me hold my tongue. I told Rambha I would return. She said we would make promises to each other. Anirudh’s allegiances are clear, but even if Kalyani knows nothing about Kaushika and his secrets, she is a sage in training. No matter her kindness, she is loyal to Kaushika. It is why any of these people are helping me . I cannot forget that.
Sudden tears flood my eyes. Four weeks. Four weeks have passed since I arrived, and I have nothing to show for it. I’ve barely exchanged two conversations with my mark, his own intention hidden. With any other mark, I would have already been halfway to seducing them, yet Kaushika has already proven too challenging. There is a darkness within him, shadowing his true intents, lurking a nail-scratch away. I can sense it, but I haven’t even faced his magic, and he has already thwarted me.
If Kaushika asks me to leave due to my failure at the Initiation Ceremony, I might never get another chance to return to the hermitage to seduce him. I would be in exile until I finished my mission. I can see the events unfolding already. How I would throw caution to the wind, driven by urgency. How I would accost this sage somehow, a vision of blunt surprise, giving myself away instantly instead of completing my mission in a delicate manner.
Were my sisters trapped by desperation as well? Did Nanda begin dancing in the vain hope that Kaushika would simply be seduced by her beauty? Did Sundari create an illusion that worked before, never getting past Kaushika’s shields but hoping anxiously that her best entrapments would? Was Magadhi dazzling, her beautiful smile brittle, when she twisted her wrists into mudras?
I can’t let myself fall to the same fate. Rambha kissed me. We hoped to make promises to each other. All of that will become irrelevant if I am made to leave the hermitage.
Anirudh notices my distressed expression and sighs. “Your problem is that you are not allowing yourself to access the prana that you hold. You are blocking yourself.”
I shake my head. Of course that is not my problem. These mortals do not understand. The magic Kaushika revealed to everyone that was stored within me was Amaravati’s magic. It was prana, but it was given to me by Indra’s grace. I cannot simply perform tapasya like the mortals and access the power that the lord himself does. I have tried. To do such magic is not in my nature. If it were possible, some other celestial would have traveled the path to it by now.
Kalyani’s face grows concerned. “What is going through your mind when you meditate?”
My hopelessness rests on my neck like a heavy rope. “I miss home,” I whisper.
I know I shouldn’t say this, a sure sign of my unsuitability to be here, but I cannot help it. The pattering of the rain, a sound I have sorely missed as a sign of Amaravati, only serves to remind me of how alone I am.
Anirudh and Kalyani exchange another look. Anirudh’s face softens. “What we do here is not easy. I am sorry.”
“It is not that. I left people behind. Sisters. Friends. A lover.” I close my eyes and I can almost believe I am in Rambha’s arms again. The honey spice of her lips. The softness of her skin. Come back , her voice whispers to me in memory. I open my eyes to see the mortals watching me in sympathy.
Clearing my throat, I nod to the other students. “Does no one here have lovers? Is no one married?”
Kalyani points to two men deep in discussion about the feat of magic they would perform for the Initiation Ceremony. “Shailesh and Daksh are married. They share a home within the hermitage.”
My eyebrows rise. “Kaushika allows them the same quarters? Despite his commitment to the ascetic path? Then it means the two men share a bed … they … they …”
I trail off, unsure how to word my question, but Anirudh smiles a small smile. “It is all right to ask, Meneka. It is not an unnatural question. Daksh and Shailesh are only two of the many married people here within the hermitage. Naren and Abhay, Advik and Sharmisha, all of these people were once lovers, and many of them share a home now. But they transcended the need for sex with their meditation. Now they redirect their sexual energy to a deeper power, Shiva himself. All yogis here have withdrawn from the evanescence of desire. By yoking our desire—even sexual—to true knowledge of ourselves, we feed the process of tapasya and are thus able to access our own magic. Shiva is the Lord of Asceticism. Our own pursuit of it is the greatest form of worship to him.”
“Loving one another’s body is an act of worship too,” I whisper. “Denying it to these people … is this Kaushika’s decree?”
“He has made no such proclamations, but all of us here follow the ascetic path. It presupposes celibacy.” Anirudh frowns. “Kaushika should have warned you about what it means before he allowed you in. It is unlike him to forget something so foundational.”
“Could this be why you are magically blocked?” Kalyani ventures. “Homesick for your lover, therefore you stop yourself from accessing your full power?”
“It is possible.” Anirudh studies me, tilting his head.
A wrenching tightness cords through my chest. I have no words for them. Who are these people, so austere as to deny themselves the pleasures of the flesh? They are the antithesis of an apsara—passive stillness, when apsaras are sexual movement. Meditative and cold, when apsaras rely on expression and life. Beings of tapasvin fire, when apsaras are creatures of Indra’s water. Kaushika is a contradiction to me in every way, an unmoving hermit while I remain an everchanging nymph. How am I to seduce this man? How deeply will I lose myself in this impossible mission?
I raise my chin to heaven, tears blurring my eyes. I swallow, seeking guidance from Indra, trying to capture the image of his resplendence. Rain patters on the roof and I pretend it touches my skin. This place, this mission—never have I been so vulnerable, so powerless.
Anirudh clears his throat. “If you are finding the path of asceticism hard, I think you need more inspiration than we can give you here.”
He utters a chant, and the air above him sparkles into a gleaming, translucent map. The hermitage is a cluster of dots. A dark mass represents the woods I arrived in, and a winding silvery ribbon beyond the forest glistens in the shape of the River Alaknanda.
Anirudh points to a structure away from the river and the forest, leading toward the closest knot of villages. “See this triangle? It is Shiva’s temple, the closest one to the hermitage. I want you to go there after your duties here are done this evening. Maybe being closer to the Great Lord will guide you back to his path.”
Kalyani arches a brow and waves her hand to the lingam Anirudh just consecrated. “This cannot be done here?”
“The temple is consecrated not through yogis alone but through the devotion of many others. Such a thing has its own potential, one Meneka might respond to.” Anirudh makes a balancing motion with his hand. “I wouldn’t ordinarily suggest it, but it is worth a try. Everything else has failed.”
I stare at him. My voice is cautious. “I thought we were supposed to keep to the hermitage and the forest, our separation from the outside world complete.”
“If Kaushika finds out, I will take responsibility,” Anirudh answers. “You are not going outside the hermitage to engage in worldly matters. You are going so you may detach even further.”
“Keep your heart true,” Kalyani urges. “Keep your mind pure.”
Misery seeps its tentacles into me, wrapping itself around my body. I understand their words and the risk Anirudh is taking for what they are—a last chance and a desperate attempt to connect with a magic I do not possess. Prayer to Shiva won’t help me, but I cannot refuse this instruction. It would be as good as giving up. Perhaps leaving the hermitage briefly will ignite other ideas. Silently, I listen as Anirudh provides me directions to the temple.