Lotus amidst the Mud [Completed]

The Revival

The soldier has become a regular these days.   As usual, he doesn't touch me.   He stealthily brought me food, improved my malnourishment and made me sleep peacefully.

I used Dance Bhavas to convey myself and he would draw to express himself.   I recognized the artist hiding within him when he showed me his sketches one day.     The artist within us brought us closer.

We spent our time teaching each other's mother tongue.

On a No-Moon night, some Indian soldiers escaped from the Camp.   While the Britishers were so engrossed in their search, he quickly dressed me in a military soldier's attire and made me join him in the search.   Once we were inside the forest, he hid me in a safe spot. He sent a man on a bullock cart next day, to collect grass for his horse.   The man hid me inside the grass and took me to the soldier's house safely.   The bodies of other prostitutes were found in the marshy lands on the other side of the Military Regiment..   Britishers assumed that I also died in the soft marshlands.   They closed my records.

I was curious why he saved me and what he wanted from me.   He looked into my eyes with empathy and said "I am a soldier; a fighter. Its unfortunate that I am fighting for the britishers. But I always feel an Indian at heart.   I know I can't win freedom for this whole nation single-handedly.   But I am strong enough to win at least your freedom.     By saving you, I have not only protected a life, but also saved this country's best art form. I have protected dance, poetry, literature and many more skills - all preserved in one person.   I am very honoured to save you".

"But You Devadasis are too conspicuous, because of beauty, colourful attire and appearance, very knowledgeable, and brave.   What I am about to suggest is against your upbringing, lifestyle and beliefs. You may not like it, but it will save you..."

He fidgeted and stammered to continue his thoughts further.     I listened silently, while silently admiring his concern for this poor soul.

I tonsured my head, wore a white saree without ornaments and covered my face always with my saree pallu.      Devdasis are "Nitya Sumangali" as they are married to God.   New brides take our Mangalsutra beads as Shubh Shagun... and I had to become a widow to avoid becoming a prey to the predators.   As a widow, I never left the kitchen and I wasn't needed anywhere else.

I cared for his young son in his absence and we bonded well.   It was his innocent idea one day, that made me  re-look at my life's options.   "So what If the society doesn't allow widows to sing or dance? You can re-live those colourful days by writing about it, right?" he asked.   That's when it struck me.

The soldier did save me to preserve the art within me, right?    I had performed for the Lord as his wife; in front of the Public as an artist; in bed as a physical entertainer; and now I'll share all about the performances on paper !!

Writing gave me a window of opportunities to vent out my thoughts and the thirst to share all that I know with the world.   I started writing all types of Indian Recipes into a Book.    Then branched into Songs and Poetries.    I wrote about the different types of garlands that were made by Devadasis, the kind of flowers chosen for each occasion, the combination of fragrance that would suit each occasions etc.    I wrote a book on different mudras of Sadir, the elegance and significance of the dance form etc.

********************

The calling bell sound brought me back to senses. "You're late..." I complained after opening the door.

My soldier, my British husband Allen Martin walked in with a trophy, with our son and grandson in tow. He gently gave a peck on my cheeks.   "You know how I hate to collect awards and trophies as an author, while You write everything in my name" he sighed.

"Its my way of showing gratitude towards what you did for me and my country" I responded. Our son joined us at the table.   "Mom, things have changed for better now.   May be its time to tell the world who you were and who you are now.   Its time we all go back to India. I want to see you both get married again, the traditional Indian way".

I looked at my savior and he smiled at me proudly.     It was this Man-God's  humanity that saved me from the clutches of those monsters;   not his weapon or Godliness.     He sure was the lotus amongst the mud.  

Its a dream of every devdasi for someone to rescue her and revive her lost popularity and respect.     Would you give a try?