Page 21 of The Legend of Meneka
I can’t let myself fall to the same fate. Rambhakissedme. 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 mortalsdo 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 hisresplendence. 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 theyare—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.
CHAPTER 9
The rain has become a downpour by the time I reach the small temple a few miles away from the hermitage. My kurta and pajamas stick to me, and my skin is soaked. I shiver, drenched, but I am not truly bothered. Anirudh offered to spin me a shield, but Indra commands the rains. This is but my lord’s blessing.
I breathe in the richness of moist earth, the distant sizzle of lightning, the fresh bloom of wild roses.Home, I think, and Amaravati shimmers for a second in front of me, golden and magnificent, an undulating mirage. An ache seizes me, a hand clasping my heart. I shake my head, knowing there is no return until I finish with Kaushika.
