Even before sunrise the next day, Arulmozhi Varmar, Azhvarkadiyaan and Vandiyadevan were on their way to Anuradhapuram. They walked along the forest path for a while and then reached the main road, the Rajpath. It surprised Vandiyadevan that the prince had chosen not to bring along an escort of his soldiers for protection.
Vandiyadevan had never in his life experienced anything like this journey. To walk on the broad avenue, bordered by trees on either side, in the cool morning air, was a joy in itself. He was thrilled with himself at having successfully completed the task which the princess had assigned to him in Pazhaiyarai.
Was that all? He had yearned for years to meet the golden boy, beloved of everyone in Chozha Naadu, and that wish had now been realised. He had actually met the prince to whose courage and courteousness people sang paeans.
And what a meeting it had been! He could now vouch that Arulmozhi Varmar was indeed cut from a different cloth. The way the prince had stunned him by suddenly turning the horse around and attacking him! This must be the secret of his successes on the battlefield. His modus operandi was to catch the enemy unawares, at a time and place where they were least expecting an assault. But that could not be the only reason for his numerous victories. He charmed everyone with his affability and humility. The way he spoke to the soldiers, the respect he accorded the commanders … the prince was truly unique.
And it wasn’t only the soldiers he charmed. The people of the very land he had conquered were taken with him. They were free to walk the streets as before, and there was barely any sign of the country having witnessed a violent war. Villagers went about their business as if it were peacetime, with no sign of anxiety or sorrow on their faces. Why, the laughter of women and children could be heard every so often. How bizarre this was!
Vandiyadevan thought back to the anger the prince’s insistence that the conquered land not be plundered and that food and provisions be sent from Chozha Naadu for the army had evoked in the Pazhuvettaraiyar brothers, and how they had complained to the emperor. He couldn’t help comparing Aditya Karikalar’s barbaric warmongering with Arulmozhi Varmar’s considerate conquest. He could never have imagined that he would ever find fault with his leader and commander Aditya Karikalar. However, the contentment on the faces of the people who lived along the Rajpath and the happy sounds of everyday life prompted him to question the methods the crown prince employed. Ammamma! Could one imagine such a scene in the kingdoms on which Aditya Karikalar marched? All one heard were screams of terror and wails of grief.
Vandiyadevan’s heart ached to speak to the younger prince at length, so that he could ask his opinion on various subjects to do with conquest and governance. But where was the time and space for conversation when they were rushing along on horseback? Well, an opportunity did arise.
When they had almost reached Anuradhapuram, Vandiyadevan noticed a gigantic statue of the Buddha by the roadside. He had seen many such statues, and would not normally have thought anything of it. But Ponniyin Selvar reined in his horse as they approached the statue, and so Vandiyadevan was forced to follow suit. Azhvarkadiyaan, who was leading the way, saw that the two of them had stopped by the statue and turned his horse around to join them.
Ponniyin Selvar studied the imposing statue keenly for some time.
“Adada! What an incredible statue this is!” he said.
“I find nothing incredible about this,” Vandiyadevan said. “You can’t find a single street in this entire kingdom that doesn’t have the shadow of a Buddha statue falling over it. Whatever purpose do these serve?”
The prince smiled at Vandiyadevan. “You speak your mind. There is no filter and no hesitation. I like that,” he said.
“Ilavarase! Vandiyadevar has only just adopted the habit of speaking the truth,” Tirumalai said. “Today is the first day of this new lifestyle.”
“Vaishnavare! This is known as ‘sagavaasa dosham’ – one is influenced by the company one keeps. Ever since I met you in Veeranarayanapuram, there has been a constant kalpana thandavam on my tongue – everything I spoke was fuelled by imagination, exaggeration and distortion. Since I met the prince, though, my tongue has turned honest,” Vandiyadevan said.
Their war of words was lost on the prince, who was staring at the statue as if mesmerised.
“There are only two figures in the world that lend themselves fully to the skill of the sculptor. One is Nataraja. And the other is the Buddha,” he said.
“But why is it that we don’t have Nataraja statues of such mammoth proportions back in Chozha Naadu?”
“The ancient kings of Lanka were truly great men. The swathe of territory over which they ruled might have been small, but their hearts were large and their faith was all-encompassing. They built these enormous statues and stupas and viharas as a mark of their belief in and surrender to the Buddha. When I see such imposing manifestations of religious fervour here and compare them to the little Shiva temples in Chozha Naadu, I feel embarrassed,” Ponniyin Selvar said.
With that statement, he slid off his horse and approached the statue. He looked at the feet of the statue and at the lotus buds that had been offered in prayer. He then bowed low, touched the feet of the statue, prayed and returned to his horse.
The horses now ambled along towards Anuradhapuram.
“What’s going on? It appears the prince is all set to convert to Buddhism?” Vandiyadevan whispered to Tirumalai.
The prince heard him and looked at the two of them. He then said, “There’s a reason for my faith in the Buddha. The feet of the statue had an important message for me!”
“Aha! Neither of us heard this message!”
“It was conveyed to me in silence.”
“What is the message? May we know?”
“The flowers at the lord’s feet told me that tonight, at the twelfth naazhigai, I must be near the Simhadhara lake,” Ponniyin Selvar said.
Excerpted with permission from Wind Storm, Kalki, translated from the Tamil by Nandini Krishnan, Eka/Westland.
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