The Dancing Goddess

C H A P T E R -3

Sixteen years have passed by. The baby Sharvani, Nrityagram's goddess, is now a lovely sixteen-year-old maiden. She sits in the open courtyard under the evening sky, coloured in shades of pink and purple, a dreamy sight to behold. Her large, doe-like eyes, like the women painted and carved on temple walls, move around, catching the sights of different clouds that roam around the dreamy sky. Her long fingers gently lie on her round cheek as a joyful smile enhances her pleasant countenance, and her anklet-adorned feet jingle to a mysterious tune of their own.

The celebrations of her first menstrual cycle, which marks the end of her girlhood, and the beginning of her womanhood finished in the afternoon. The sweaty, sultry heat of the afternoon had annoyed Sharvani a lot, but now the soft, peaceful breeze of the evening soothes her body and surroundings.

"What are you thinking about so joyfully, my child?" asks Vama, Ivati's grandmother.

Vama, the old matriarch of the dancers of Nrityagram, now lives in a humble cottage on the outskirts of the village. The old lady was once a part of the respectable era of the temple dancers and has also witnessed their downfall. With the fall of these artists, she left her temple service and decided to teach all her art to a few young women and girls. To support her daily rations, a little wealth came to her house through the land grant she had, once gifted by the king of the city.

What use will a lot of jewels, money, and gold have for an old woman like her who eagerly awaits the steps to heaven?

Safekeeping it all for her daughter-like Sharvani, she spends each day with her in hopes that Sharvani will be the saviour goddess that her birthmother has thought to be.

'Amma, I saw the goddess in my dreams. She said that I would birth a goddess, and my womb would nourish her. She will save us, I know now. I can die in peace.'

Crossing her ankles, Sharvani turns towards Vama and answers, "Nothing much. I just feel different now; happy as a newfound realisation of my womanhood, but still a little strange."

Vama places her hand behind her back and slowly sits down, carefully folding her knees. "And why strange?"

Sharvani, keeping her cheek on her knees, answers, "You say I am a goddess, and my Amma also thought so. I don't feel anything like a goddess even now. At first, I used to think that I would feel like a goddess once I turned into a woman, but all of it still feels the same." Moving her eyes to the sky, she continues, "Yet, there is a nervous heartbeat fluttering in my chest. This feels like a new beginning, as if a new change is coming by, and I have to quickly conform to it."

Vama smiles in understanding at her. She gently ruffles Sharvani's hair. A goddess inside a woman's body would take time to realise her godhood. Awareness of one's power comes in times of difficult adversity, for tales of magic and miracles exist to entertain the audience and to establish a god's identity in the grandest way possible in their minds, but tales aren't always the reality.

Be a god or a powerful human; one's power, strength, and skills need to be found on their own; they need to be learned and then polished. For goddesses, often their powers and forms are seen as soft and gentle, to provide beauty, prosperity, and material wealth, but their divine powers and their truest strength are only seen in the final battles, where all hopes are lost, even from their male counterparts. After all, the divine feminine holds the powers of creation, preservation, and dissolution in whole.

As a goddess in a mortal frame, she needs to be reminded of her own powers, of her own destiny, of her own story that she needs to live, and for a grand story to unfurl, there has to be wars, sometimes with an enemy and sometimes with the mind; there must be a tale of despair, so hope shall arise in the hearts of the listeners, that if the goddess can experience and break from the ugly shades of life, so can they.

"You are thinking about your journey to the temple tomorrow, isn't it?" asks Vama.

Sharvani swiftly turns towards her grandmother. "True. I am excited, but also scared. You and Achutya always tell me how they are awaiting my presence, but what if..."

The grandmother, wisdom shining in her eyes, looks at her grown-up girl. "Wherever you go, one will always find admirers and haters. It happens to everyone. Think about the best only, my girl."

"And what is troubling my little sister?" asks Achutya, carrying a few sweets in a leaf-stitched bowl covered with a red cloth. Achutya, now a young man of twenty-five, is slightly tanned under the harsh summers of the village but still looks as blissfully peaceful as ever, like the God he has been named after.

With beaming eyes, Sharvani runs to hug Achutya and snatches the sweets from him, causing the old grandmother to giggle at her antics. Her eyes turn slightly to tears at the lovely bond between the two.

'It seems only yesterday that this boy carried her to me, this little girl, to my arms,' Vama thinks to herself as a wistful smile takes over her now thin lips. 'And now my darling will fly away to a place that will craft her destiny. She cannot be my little girl anymore but must realise the goddess breathing in her.'

Achutya, who was poking his fingers at Sharvani, giggled and rained playful blows at him, then stopped and asked her in a concerned tone. "All ready for tomorrow?"

A huffing Sharvani breathes deeply, patting her flushed cheeks from the laughter she had just moments prior, her eyes gazing faraway at the trees in the vicinity. "Yes, I have packed all my belongings. You will come to take me, right?"

Achutya nods at her, his lips going silent, as he thinks about Sharvani's future ahead. "Wake up early and get ready by dawn."

Sharvani presses her lips into a thin line and nods in agreement. Achutya turns towards Vama, and in four long strides, he sits beside her, leaving Sharvani in contemplation about tomorrow.

"Have you told her about Niradhara?" He asks Vama.

"I don't want to strike fear and apprehension in her heart, and we can't prepare her for everything beforehand."

Both of them look at Sharvani, who began fiddling with the ends of her saree. Her fingers twirl the rough strands of the underskirt, while her eyes hover around at the little weeds growing on the soft soil.

"She is a goddess second, and my sister first. I am scared for her because the world outside this cottage will be harsh for her."

"We are women; we learn to steer through all odds with a smile." Gazing at Sharavni, Vama added, "And she is a goddess, more powerful than us; she will counter the world's harshness with her strength."

"But she isn't aware of her strengths. How do you?"

"Hanuman, too, did not know his strengths. He was made aware of it by Jambavan. Your sister will find her Jambavan, or she herself will discover it through the fiery trials of fate."

Achutya, about to counter, opens his mouth, but Vama beats him to it by raising her hand and saying, No more.

"Have faith in the gods, Achutya."

"You all are the wives of the gods, yet you are cursed with a life like this. How do I invest my trust in them?"

Vama goes quiet. Her eyes move towards the skies, uttering a silent prayer to the deities above whom they all serve so devotedly. She closes her eyes and breathes with a sigh.

'My life's breath is a mere thread resting in your hands,

O Lord, as fair as camphor, where do I seek solace if not at your feet?

They say I am tainted, but if your companionship maligns me,

then I no longer seek their illusionary purity.' 

***

Word count: 1330 

I have fever, and wrote this. I hope this chapter is good to read.

She hit her periods at 16, and I knowingly made it this way.