Poonkuzhali..

It was the wedding of the century . After all it is not everyday that the favored  prince of the kingdom married his sweet heart , a woman of grace , beauty and royal background.

There was revelry on the streets : At every corner of the street the town heralds were shouting out what was happening at the wedding ceremony. The traders were offering their wares at a hefty discount and the koothu dancers were making merry and were pulling in innocent bystanders to join the fun. The women of the street were decked in finery , and were rejoicing as if it was their son who was getting married.

The houses were freshly painted and decorated with numerous festoons, the streets filled with eager citizens , who wanted to have a glimpse of the newly wedded couple. The Othuvar’s voice could be heard from the temple , where he was singing praises to the Lord Shiva – for having brought this young couple together. It seemed to one that the royal palace was decked like a new bride – a new bride who was waiting for her husband to come and claim her hand.

Amidst all this revelry , very few people noticed that the queen who was supposed to host the celebrations was currently not in the palace , a palace for which she was the sole mistress ; a palace where her enlightened and softhearted husband ruled as the king.

As a kid , kuzhali had always wanted to become a queen one day. To the amusement of her father , she would demand that the family address her as the future queen – a queen who would be adored by her husband , a queen who would be toasted by the nation and a queen who would have a say in the governance of the nation. Her parents had brushed off her ambitions as an innocent kid’s irrational dream and had assumed that kuzhali would reconcile herself to the reality , once she grew out of childhood.

Sadly , it was not to happen. The more her parents wanted her to realize the reality – the more entrenched she was in her dreams. She believed from the bottom of her heart that one fine day she’d meet a handsome prince , who’d whisk her away from her house into the high seas , marry her and give her all the happiness unlike the docile , timid  Amuthan- her cousin who liked her and whom her parents wanted to marry her off to.

When the matchmaking process between her and Amuthan had reached its zenith , she had taken a vow at the Shiva temple , that she would marry a prince or die a spinster , but would never marry a common man . Call her arrogant , but at that point , she strongly believed that Lord Shiva would listen to her pleas and help her achieve her dream. Little did she know that she’d achieve her dream by paying a huge price- her love.

The first time she met him was still fresh in her mind. He was looking for a means of transport to Eezham and she had volunteered to row him across – This prince , who was the apple of his sister’s eye , the pride of the Chola nation and the son of Ponni – who was called Arulmozhi.

She had a tough time rowing that day – The seas were rough ; the wind was hard and the night was dark – yet she did not feel fatigue , as she was gazing into those brown eyes , which seemed to have thousand questions for her – questions which she answered with glances of her own.

By the end of the journey , she was so captivated with Arul , that she had taken on the name that he’d bestowed on her ;  Samudra Kumari – The lady of the high seas ; and had refused to answer to Kuzhali. He had made promises that day – promises not to forget her and she had assumed that this God of hers in a human form , will not forgo his vow. How wrong she had been.

Months passed while she had irrevocably fallen in love with this man , who was fighting a war ; a war with a rival country and a war with his scheming relatives who wanted to usurp the throne from the rightful inheritors. She waited and watched – for news about her hero , for news about her God , who would claim her as his victory prize , once he was done slaying the demons.

Little did she know that her demon slayer would be captured by another – she did not know that demon slayers were not captivated by strong women . They preferred damsels in distress, who had a tendency to faint seeing their own shadow. The truth was driven into her like a nail , brutally and painfully , when she’d seen her prince and the kodumbaloor lady talk – when she heard that her God wanted to marry the Kodumbaloor chit , despite the fact that vanathi had made a vow , not to be crowned as a queen – a vow which she had goaded vanathi into taking.

Samudra Kumari had died that very day – murdered by the very man who’d given her the nom de plume. She burned – with jealousy , anger and helplessness. She burned seeing Vanathi charm her prince into submission. She burned as she controlled her urge to go and push Vanathi back – back into oblivion where she deserved a place. She burned , until her anger died and until what was left of kuzhali was a broken woman – a broken woman with her dreams shattered by the very man who helped shape them.

She had given in to Amuthan then – the timid , docile Amuthan , who worshiped the ground her feet tread , who treated her like a crown jewel, who turned out to be the son of a Chola King , and a worthy successor of the crown.

She became the Queen of the priced Chola throne , a queen who was worshiped by her king , feted by her subjects and lauded by her ministers – yet she burned. As she stood on the banks of cauvery , in the wee hours of the day Arul was getting married – Kuzhali the queen burned , burned with jealousy for the Kodumbaloor lady who had managed to capture her God’s heart.
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PS : I am huge fan of Ponniyin Selvan and like a few crazy PS fans , I would have loved it if poonkuzhali had married prince Arulmozhi. This is a small take of what I think PoonKuzhali would have felt seeing Arul getting married to Vanathi

PPS : I do not intend to demean Kalki or Ponniyin selvan with this work This work has been fleshed out from my imagination and I hope I’ve not offended loyal Ponniyin Selvan fans on the blogspace.

PPS : Do share your thoughts and Comments on this piece

 

Mahabharata Chronicles I

It was with great pleasure that she tied her hair into an intricate knot and secured it with an ivory comb. she twirled before the mirror checking her attire - the white silk saree with the golden zari work , befitting her status as the reigning queen and highlighting her dark complexion - she was named for her complexion after all. It was another thing , that she was hardly referred to by her birth name - a name she loved.

Turning back to the mirror , she couldn't help but notice the wisps of Grey that escaped from her elegant hairdo - a fact that she attributed to age and her husband attributed to stress. When he'd tied her hair nearly 8 months ago , he had jocularly remarked that she had become a buddhi and he was trying to die it red . "Nityayuvani" , he had called out in a booming voice - you'll remain young and beautiful to me ,  despite the wrinkles and gray hair. However today's kids are impudent and I want to ensure that the little one , who is to come - will not call his dadu a liar and they had laughed over this - a booming  laughter that had disturbed the eerie silence of the palace which was shrouded in gloom.

Shaking her head at the memory , she reached for the pair of baby anklets that were stored away in a draw - they belonged to her favorite son Soma , who had a penchant from finding trouble , and who had a tendency to shadow her through her day. She hoped that the person to whom she was gifting these , will bring joy to his mother and hopefully meet a better end than his father and uncles , a better end , after a long and boring life.

As she wrapped the anklets with a silk hanky , she couldn't help but spare a thought about her daughter- in- law ; the child woman who had been married at fourteen , widowed by fifteen and who had spent the last year grieving over her dead husband ; existing  for the sake of her unborn child ; A woman who lived in the past , burdened by the barren present and terrified about the unknown future- a future which might bring prosperity and happiness to the Kuru Clan again along with an heir for the Hastinapur throne.

As she walked towards the labor room , she could sense the urgency in the air . It was as if Hastinapur was awakening from a long hibernation - the citadel of widows was opening her eyes , little by little to a new future - a future where happiness and prosperity would grace the kingdom and peace would reign for eternity and she knew from instinct , that she will have a huge role in shaping it - It was her duty to do so and it was her desire to do so.

She opened the heavy teak wood doors silently - and ventured in , only to see the doors to the nursery still closed with the six tall men pacing around the hall , muttering about how tardy their grandson was and how he should have arrived by now . Wasn't it just like men to assume things she thought ; and suppressed a giggle when she heard her best friend remark that the expected arrival could be of a grand daughter - which made four of the men frown and one of them laugh - the same booming laugh that she had come to adore decades ago .

A grand daughter would be a nice thing to happen she thought - Hastinapur would have a queen on her throne ; a queen who would court peace and loathe war ; a young girl who'd be the apple of her grandmother's eye ; a girl who would not be separated from her mother at a tender age and taught hate ; a girl who would respect women and not use them as pawns in dice games ... her thoughts were interrupted by the wails of a young woman. The heir would arrive soon.

Being the contrary woman she was , she wished that the babe would be a girl , just to see the expression on the faces of her husbands . She could almost picture Yudishtra frown - Yudishtra of the fair complexion , Yudishtra the righteous , Yudishtra the chauvinist - the one who viewed women as a commodity ; the one who never thought twice before wagering his wife away in a game of dice. Yudishtra would be disappointed if the babe was a girl .

Her thoughts then traveled to Nakul and Sahadev ; the Gemini - They would love a little girl to bits ; however they would turn her into a horse lover - of that she was sure . Nakul would put her on a horse by the time she could crawl and Sahadev would teach her to fight - with swords and words . She shuddered as she pictured a young princess fighting with her grandfathers over horseflesh - exchanging curses and placing wagers - A young princess whose way of showing respect and affection would be through trading insults.
Her thoughts then turned to Arjun - Arjun the warrior ; Arjun the heartless ; Arjun the Lothario - he wouldn't think twice before marrying of his only grandchild to gain a kingdom . He would view her as an asset ; as a pet may be - He will indulge her when he needed some amusement and discard her away when he was bored.

And Bhim - Bhim would love the kid to bits . Her favorite husband , who'd make sure that the kid was pampered yet disciplined ; was fun loving yet dutiful . Her contrary husband would also teach her that women were equal to men in every aspect of life.

If the babe was indeed a girl , she knew that she would not lack for love and affection from the menfolk of the house - at least the men who mattered. Yet sometimes she yearned for a grandson - a grandson in whose face , she could catch the resemblances of her sons - sons who died for their birthright to rule. She wanted a grandson who'd shun war , who'd question the chauvinistic beliefs of the society , who'd bring pleasure to his widowed mother and grandmothers and who'd grow up to be the light of their life.

A loud wail interrupted her thoughts followed by the mewling sound of a new born baby. From the corner of her eye , she saw the daima come out with the baby. She saw the men tense and then smile as they heard the daima proclaim that the child was indeed a boy. She saw the men rejoice and toast their good fortune and she saw the nurse coming to her with the baby.

As she held her grandson , she made a vow , a vow to mold the new heir of Hastinapur into a world conqueror; enlightened scholar and a lovely prince . She saw the herald turn to her husbands , to inquire about the name of the new prince. She saw Arjun , turn to Krsna ; waiting for him to name the prince and being the contrary woman she was - she shouted out "Parikshit! Parikshit will be the name of my grandchild".

Before the outraged Arjun could interrupt , She replied " It was agreed that Krsna would name the child- and I am Krsna too ". The booming laughter of Bhim accompanied her proclamation followed by the childish gurgles of her grandson - It seemed to her that the two most important men of her life approved her decision and the future looked dazzling all of a sudden.
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PS : I do not mean to insult or demean any of the mythological characters associated with the Mahabharata through my posts. The Mahabharata Chronicles is an endeavor on my part to retell the epic from my viewpoint. :)