Samsāra

Chapter Sixteen

Yuvuraju Amarendra Bahubali was positively brimming with mischievous energy, his face, hair and clothes were streaked with colours, blue red yellow green, all as a result of various attacks from different people. The men with him were in the same boat, including the stoic Kattapa who opposed to carrying a music instrument unlike the other men Bahu had coerced into performing this rendition. He wore his usual shirt of mail, sword and plain dhoti, not one part of him was stained with colours.

Bahu hefted the dholak higher on his shoulder by the tooled leather strap. He let his fingers caress the sheesham shell of the drum and the cotton rope lacing. He had been practising with the men for a week now and while they were not spectacular, they were enough. Together with Kattapa they numbered twelve and all except Kattapa were eager to perform.

Before they knocked, Bahu looked back and asked Kattapa one last time. 'Māmayya, are you sure you won't like to play the Bansuri? Or even the pungi? Chimta? Veena? No?'

Kattapa opened his mouth to sound one last rebuke but the door's opening put a pause to his objection. Mekhala appeared in the portal, stained from head to toe with assorted colours. She giggled at the sight of them, raising a hand to muffle the sound and sketched a hasty bow for Bahu. Still smiling, she beckoned them in, closing the door after the men had strode in.

'Mekhala?' Ajiona's voice floated out to them from the balcony. 'Who was that?' She drifted into view, thoroughly and utterly stained with colour, her plain white clothes bore almost artful splotches and splashs of colours.

'Yuvuraju?' She said, her eyes taking in their instruments, a confused frown set between her brows. Bahu ignored her and instructed the men to set up. 'What's going on?'

That was the cue. Prashad began with the gethuvadyam, gently tapping on the strings with two bamboo sticks, then the Bansuri rose, and the Tampas and ektārā, and on until Bahu began beating his dholak. And then he sang:

'Nēnu oka am'māyitō prēmalō unnānu
lillī vale svacchamaina carmaṁ
Amsuka vaṇṭi nunupaina
āme mukhaṁ lōṭas vaṇṭi terucukuṇṭundi
āme navvu veyyi yud'dhālu cēyagaladu
āme pēru, āme pēru kaḷātmakaṅgā nōru kaṭṭivēstundi
āme navvu, āme navvu gaṇṭalu gaṇṭalu vaṇṭi dhvanulu
āme ṭac, āme ṭac nāku dvārā pulakarintalu pamputundi

Nēnu oka aphāsartō prēmalō unnānu
niṣid'dha kōrikalu okaṭi
sīkreṭ kōrikalu
āme juṭṭu, āme juṭṭu ḍaun paḍipōvaḍaṁ jalapātaṁ vaṇṭidi
āme vāyis āme vāyis tēne tō kavar drākṣa pēlavaccu vaṇṭidi
āme nrtyaṁ āme oka nāgupāmu seḍakṭiv ṭvin nrtyaṁ
āme naḍustunna nadilā kadilistundi
āme līpiṅg ḍū lāgā naḍavaḍaṁ naḍustundi.

Nēnu oka mahiḷatō prēmalō unnānu
dhrḍamaina mariyu oka marri ceṭṭu vaṇṭi cuṭṭumuṭṭi
prēma kaligi, nannu kappivēstundi
āme guṇḍe, āme guṇḍe balamaina ukku
āme padālu āme padālu oka īṭe vaṇṭi guccutundi
āme kaḷḷu āme kaḷḷu guṇḍe dvārā cūḍavaccu
āme kōsaṁ nā prēma nilakaḍalēnidi, samayaṁ vaṇṭi niluvarin̄calēnidi
āme kōsaṁ nā kōrika maidānaṁ, parvataṁ vaṇṭidi

Nēnu oka am'māyi, oka bālikatō prēmalō unnānu
ō apōsarātō nēnu prēmalō unnānu. Apsara
nēnu oka mahiḷa, oka strītō prēmalō unnānu
ēdainā kākuṇḍā...'

The song was a slow and steady one, relying on his vocal capability to take on high notes and trebling lows and Bahu was up to the task. The instruments added colour and flavour to the lyrics, painting a vivid picture. Ajiona took her seat, smiling and clapping along, her attendants sat around her laughing. Ajiona dipped her head to talk to Pragya and the girl rose and soon returned with her mistress' veena. Soon, she began playing along with them and her voice rose clear as water.