Narabali

Chapter 14. Matangi's Nectar of Words, a Promise of Love

The subconscious is a curious place to be in. Lust and love live in there, an ironical harmony. So does pride and humility. Knowledge and ignorance. Suffering and bliss.

This is where one finds the answers. The seer knows it, and thus, is wary of going deep. Somewhere, he knows his ego is coming in place of his spirituality.

Nandini has had enough of this denial. If she can't make them choose each other, the Goddess herself will.

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Maya and Hrishav passed through the same dirty lanes, decorated with blindingly bright neon lights and the chime of glass bangles sounding from each corner. But after reaching a strange fork in the road, Argha spun around to give them a wink, and chose the left path.

Left, Hrishav wondered. Vama.

"Shouldn't we have gone right?" Maya asked.

Hrishav knew Argha since a long time. He had reached a comfort with her(or him) that he didn't share with even his family members. This transgender prostitute, shunned by society and labelled a disgrace, had vast knowledge of tantra. Hrishav was shocked to know one day that Argha was initiated in the path by an Aghori. Indeed, a normal ascetic would never look at this anomaly of nature which Argha was. He had visited that man, that red-clad Agori, later. Those class of tantrics were something that even his stone-hearted soul shook upon beholding.

But the Aghori accepted him in, and Hrishav was glad to take his help in matters currently a secret. Without him, he would have failed in many of the tasks that were assigned to him by the Divine. Yet, despite his interactions– although limited– with the matted hermit, he often felt a shiver when those blackened orbs floated in his vision.

Argha, on the other hand, didn't get frightened at all. He casually sat along with the Aghori as if he were her friend. The few times he saw them together, it felt like an odd couple. Yes, a couple. How peculiar. Was it even allowed? Hrishav stood at a distance, watching them from behind a string of bushes. Argha would play the role of the female and enjoy in his talks of philosophy and the other world. She would feed him too. Hrishav never dared to look at what he ate.

All in all, Argha was far ahead than where he was in life. If someone, in Hrishav's mortal perspective, was truly wise, that human was Argha.

"Boro Babu?" Maya gently placed a hand on his back. "Should we follow Argha?"

He jerked out of his reverie. His eyes glistening under the pale yellow light of the lamp posts. "Yes. Follow her."

"Is it a shortcut?"

"I don't know. But we should follow her." He stared into the distance. Argha waited with a frown. "I don't want to displease her. Let us do what she wants."

Maya's eyes widened. It never registered in her mind how a man who looked down upon a woman like her, just because she was poor and didn't have a proper education, could respect a transgender so much. He was a mystery. Perhaps his thought process was as complex as the rituals of Maa.

Together they walked behind Argha. The more they closed the proximity with the transgender, the more she increased her pace, her giggles causing the inhabitants of the Mukherjee palace to have a racing heart. And then, Argha merged with the darkness. Hrishav held on to the faith, expecting this to be another lesson. Around them was thick foliage flowing into a dense forest. The barking of vixens made Maya shudder. She never liked that call; it always scared her since childhood. It was too eerie to be the sound of any animal. Could Brahma not make it less sinister?