ELEVEN
Softly, Matali flew down into a vast courtyard, outside the palace of the king of the Devas. As Arjuna alighted from the vimana, he saw the sadhyas, the viswas, the maruts, the Aswin twins and mighty brahmarishis. Indra came slowly down the marble steps of his palace. Around his ankles, five white leopards padded. His arms opened wide and his face wreathed in a smile, Indra came to greet his son.
"Welcome!" cried the Lord of Devaloka. He embraced Arjuna and sniffed the top of his head like any father.
The others were struck by the likeness between father and son and by how splendid the kshatriya of the earth was. Here, Arjuna seemed every bit a Deva himself. After the Pandava stepped out of the vimana, the world around him seemed less exotic than it had while they flew. Even the luminescence of Devaloka was now a quieter thing, unobtrusive. But he still felt he could float away at any moment, out of himself, on any of the numinous legends that lurked just beneath the surface of this world: the dreams of which all this world was made.
Gandharvas and apsaras had come with Indra and they went singing up the wide stairway into the palace. This was an exceptional day in Amravati: when Indra's son had come to his father's house for the first time. And what a welcome he had from the immortals of Devaloka.
A little dazed, Arjuna allowed Indra to lead him into the sabha of Amravati, the stunning Sudharma. Arjuna had thought he would come to this place as a humble mortal summoned here by a lofty God. Instead, he found himself feeling at home. Best of all, he was not being treated like an outsider, an inferior, but a prince of heaven, as Indra's son: which, only now Arjuna began to realize, was who he was!
Indra led him to the throne that is worshipped by Devas and rishis, the Lokapalas and all the immortal races: siddhas, gandharvas and apsaras, charanas and kimpurushas. It was carved from a single blood-red ruby, fringed in gold and crystal. Indra sat on that huge throne, the leopards at his feet and called Arjuna to sit beside him. The Pandava knew Indra would never ask him to sit upon that sacred throne, unless it was his rightful place. Arjuna took his place.
Now the gandharvas set up a song. Arjuna had never heard anything like it before, so hauntingly sad, yet full of joy. The tall gandharvas played on flutes and plucked on sonorous vinas and their voices were so exquisite he wanted to cry. And since the great Elves sang in a tongue of heaven he did not understand, he whispered to Indra, "What are they singing, what does it mean?"
With a smile, Indra replied, "It is a song about a father and a son who have been separated for many years. The father yearns for the boy, but they cannot meet for reasons of destiny beyond their control. The song tells of how, at last, they meet briefly and are parted again almost at once."
Something in the Deva's voice brought Arjuna up sharply. When he glanced at his face, he saw tears in Indra's eyes: tears of sorrow and joy just like in the gandharvas' song. The song ended and everyone in the sabha applauded. The five musicians who had sung and the five who had played with them stood up, solemn and beautiful; they bowed.
Indra made a sign that they should approach his throne and opening a box of precious trinkets beside him, he rewarded each one, telling them "I was moved by your song."
Those Elves bowed deeply and one of them said, "Today it seems there are two Indras in Amravati!"
Another song took up in the Sudharma, now entirely festive and the apsaras of Devaloka, choros nympharum, shimmered in on feet light as wishes. Their dance was unutterably graceful and later, swift past the scope of the eye: so they would appear to be in more places than one or two at the same time. Though only ten apsaras came to dance for their king and his son, at the climactic sections of the performance it seemed they were a hundred1.
Arjuna sat hardly breathing; how would he describe this to his brothers when he returned to them? At times, the Pandava felt he could see the music with his eyes and at others he felt he strangely 'heard' the dancers' bodies: that their movements actually became the song they danced to.
And those apsaras were so beautiful. Not Draupadi or Subhadra could match these women; their beauty was of another ilk. Indra pointed out Menaka, who once enchanted Viswamitra. Dusky Ram
1. Ganguli's text says thousands of apsaras danced. He names Ghritachi, Menaka, Rambha, Purvachitti, Swayamprabha, Urvashi, Mishrakesi, Dandagauri, Varunthini, Gopali, Sahajanya, Kumbhayoni and Madhuraswana.
bha danced for Arjuna and his father today, peerless Tilottama and Urvashi, who was perhaps the most seductive of all the nymphs.
When Urvashi saw the kshatriya of the earth, her eyes never left him. Indra did not fail to notice this. He saw that Arjuna, also, stared at this apsara more than at any other dancer. Indra gave no sign that he was aware of the attraction between the two, one of heaven and the other of the earth.
The performance was over and the apsaras danced their way out of the sabha, anklets murmuring at the hushed end of the gandharva's song. Again, the leader of the musicians, the tall one, came forward to acknowledge the applause of the Deva king.
Indra said, "Arjuna, this is Chitrasena. I think you both shall be friends."
Arjuna rose and Chitrasena took his hand and then embraced him with a laugh, crying, "We shall!"
Indra said, "Chitrasena, however gifted they may be, human warriors do not learn singing and dancing. It seems they consider it a slur on their manliness."
"The gandharvas are the finest warriors on heaven and earth. Yet, most of all, we are musicians. Song is what we live for!"
Indra said, "Arjuna, I want you to learn music and dancing from Chitrasena. You will not find a better master anywhere. What do you say, Gandharva? Will you teach my son?"
"It will be an honor! I watched him while we sang. There is music in him, my Lord, he will make a fine pupil."
A deep gong sounded. Indra rose and took Arjuna's hand.
"We don't want you going hungry, after your long journey. Come."
The great dining-hall was full of illustrious guests today; the banquet was to welcome Indra's son to Amravati. Dark and bright folk sat at Indra's feast. There were gandharvas, of course, for Devaloka is always full of these blithe ones. Then there were apsaras, kimpurusha centaurs, some of whom had flown here from Earth's lofty mountains, where they love to be and kinnara fauns. There were serpent lords, nagas with emerald skins; and a host of other extraordinary beings, who put Arjuna in mind that humankind was, indeed, a very small part of creation, whatever men themselves may think. And history was much vaster than we imagine, with our petty concerns and conflicts.
Every face in Indra's dining-hall had deep tales etched on them by time, softening them, making them wise and strong. Arjuna could not begin to think what the experiences of that gathering might have been. Indeed, he could not calculate how old most of those present were. He told himself one could not judge Amravati by the earth's norms, not even remotely. Yet, they were all warm and affectionate.
Arjuna sat beside his father at the head of the high table. The food arrived and its aromas were divine. It seemed countless courses came, each superbly finished and served up on crystal salvers. They were all, truly, works of art.
Arjuna could not have guessed what many of the delicacies he tasted that day were, nor did he much want to. Suddenly he found he was ravenous. After all, it was the first real meal he was eating since he set off on his quest from the Kamyaka vana. The Pandava did justice, with Indra watching over his son, taking the dishes from the servitors and serving Arjuna himself.
There were succulent fruit and rice with longer grains than the Pandava had ever seen and some delectable fish. And, falling to, the kshatriya was reminded of the aphorism of a legendary philosopher, whom Bheema never tired of quoting: that eating was the first of all pleasures!
Wine flowed, poured in tiny goblets that held no more than a mouthful each. Nine or ten different kinds were served and none more than once. Arjuna thought he saw flashes of silver or gold dust, or starlight, in some of them. They were heady despite the minute quantities in which they were poured, many times as strong as the wines of the earth. And they were delicious, full of all sorts of fine fires and streams.
The wine focused his mind and, when he had drunk a few glasses, Arjuna felt exhilarated. He was actually here in Amravati, sitting beside his natural father who was the king of the Devas! When the meal was over, a deep languor came over the Pandava. He remembered that he had not slept since his encounter with Siva.
Indra rose and said gently, "I fear we have worn you out in our excitement at seeing you. You need to sleep. Come, I will show you to your apartment."
Indra led Arjuna out of the dining-hall, down an airy passage and through a courtyard full of flowers. At the end of that courtyard were the finest apartments in the palace. He kept them for his most special visitors, the ones nearest his heart. The door opened at the Deva's touch and inside were the most luxurious rooms. When he saw the huge soft bed in the second room from the door, the Pandava said wryly, "I could sleep for a day and a night."
Indra seemed overcome again that his son was with him. He embraced Arjuna, kissed him on both cheeks and the top of his head. The Deva said, "Sleep for as long as you can, my son and may your dreams be full of peace."
Indra left him and the Pandava fell on the bed and was asleep at once. His dreams were indeed full of light and peace.