The Story of a Princess 1.6

It was a blistering summer day and I was cooling my feet in a small garden stream when the normally calm palace shook its feathers and started preening itself. Maids rushed down the corridors cleaning and screaming and gardeners went about the flower-beds inspecting and pruning and sweeping.

"What's all the fuss about?"

"Haven't you heard? The new king of Lanka is coming to Mithila on a State visit."

"What's a state visit?"

"It's when kings meet and discuss important matters?"

"What sort of important matters?"

"How would I know what kings discuss, my girl? I am just a maid. Why don't you ask your father, the king himself?"

"Okay. I will. When is the king of Lanka coming?"

"In a week."

I hopped off to see father.

-----

"Father, what will you discuss with the king of Lanka?"

Father laughed. "If you want to know, you'd better hang around with us."

"Can't be interesting, the way you are trying to get me to stay."

Father laughed again. "The talks may be boring. But I am sure that you will find the king of Lanka himself quite interesting."

"Why?"

"Well, he is a new king. Up until two years ago he wasn't even a prince.  He comes from a very common background. The talk is that he hasn't had any formal education. Everything that he knows or does, everything that he is, has been bitterly won."

"You like him."

"I admire him for fighting life the way he has fought. If talks are to be believed, he is far from perfect. He snatched Lanka from his own cousin, something that is not ethical. But enough gossip! For now, let's prepare for our guest's arrival."

------

The king of Lanka was indeed interesting. He was huge, for one, almost two heads taller than father. He about as wide as I was tall, with  black and curly hair that reached his shoulders. He was fair with really thick eyebrows that curled at the tips. His headgear was made of metal and had a pair of bull-horns attached to it.

Hanging on his chest was a metal mask. It depicted the most horrible face I had ever seen. The king's face was not so bad. His eyes were big and expressive, almost like a dancer's. He must have had a long nose once, which was now crooked, possibly as a result of a fight. I respected him for it. Injuries give texture to a warrior's story.

"You haven't introduced me to you lovely daughter, King Janak." He broke through my inspection of him. Knowing that I had been caught staring, I quickly hid behind father.

Father pushed me forward. "Dear King, meet my daughter and the princess of Mithila, Sita. Sita, meet the king of Lanka, our guest, King Raavan."

I folded my hands into a namaskar and said,"Welcome to out home, King Raavan.' 

Shreeman had made me repeat the words so many times that I could now welcome a state guest in my sleep!

"Thank you, Princess Sita." King Raavan also did a namaskar. Then he said,"She is a pretty child, King Janak. Someday she will grow into a beautiful queen."

"I hope not too soon! She is growing so fast I sometimes wish I could stop time and make her stay a child forever!"

King Raavan laughed. "I can understand. I also have a son, Meghnad, about the same age as princess Sita. Sometimes I also feel that he is growing faster than other kids."

The two kings laughed. Seeing a gap in the conversation, I decided to put in the question that had been zipping through my head the past five minutes. Now or never, Sita.

"King Raavan, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear Princess. Anything."

"Why do you wear that mask?"

"Ohh, this! This is to scare my opponent in battle." He put the mask on and knelt down in front of me. Now he looked really scary, with that horrible mask and those terrible horns, right in my face. "The mask also makes my battle cry louder, princess." His voice was already booming, like those monsters in my nightmares. It was all I could do not to fall or faint.

He removed the mask. "See, now I am not as scary, am I?"

"No." I smiled.

"It is called psychological warfare, Sita. When you are afraid of your opponent, your strikes are not as accurate or powerful. It is like your friend in the archery practice. Till you were afraid of him, you weren't doing so well. The moment you got over your fear, though, you were brilliant. On the other hand, if you manage to scare your opponent, you gain the advantage in battle."

King Raavan had risen up by now. "Well explained, King Janak. It is heartening to know that the old ways still live on in your kingdom. I had thought that with Devi Durga and her troops of female warriors retiring to Kailash and the Manu school gaining importance, the days of women warriors were numbered. But perhaps this is just a lull, and the next generation of women warriors is just preparing to take Devi Durga's place."

"I hope so too, King Janak. But even in Mithila, there are a lot of followers of the Manu school. Your friend from archery practice, for example, Sita."

"Who is this person you keep referring to, King Janak?"

"Sita, why don't you tell the story? Don't reveal the poor guy's name though. Let's give him another chance, shall we?"

"I'll call him Devdas, then." Apt, considering his job description. I was proud of myself.

So I told King Raavan the entire story, starting from my first day at archery practice, to the point where I had given up, to father's pep talk, to the hours of practice I had put in everyday, to the day when I could finally stare down my opponent.

King Raavan was solemn as he heard me. He smiled when I got to the part where I shot those arrows straight to the center of the target, one after another. He bent down and took my small hands in his giant ones. I showed him the calluses I had got from the practice.

"I am sorry, dear princess Sita. I have misjudged you. You are not just beautiful, you are an extremely brave and determined girl. And King Janak, you are indeed a wise king and father, as I had heard. I have come to the right place after such a long search."