Free Yayati: A Classic Tale of Lust by V S Khandekar

my arrogance I thought I could take Indra’s wife as a concubine. She accepted me on one condition ... that I should go to her in a unique conveyance. My palanquin, bedecked with heavenly jewels was carried by some of the great rishis. I was impatient and in order that the bearers might go a little faster, I kicked one of them on the head. That happened to be Rishi Agastya and he pronounced a curse.’ With the last words, Father was gasping. Those words were indistinct and blurred.
    He could speak no more. He pointed to the jar of wine and as I could not bear the agony in his face, I poured a little more wine in the cup and put it to his mouth.
    The wine cheered him up. His lips moved in an effort to speak when I said, ‘Father, you should rest now. We can talk tomorrow.’
    ‘Tomorrow?’ he said, with all the pathos in the world.
    He was introspective for a minute. He then said quietly, ‘Yayu, I, Nahusha and my children will never be happy! That was the curse! Both the good and the sins of the parents are visited on the children. That is a universal maxim. Yayu, your father is in the wrong, forgive him! Remember always, never transgress the decencies of life. I did and ...’
    Father closed his eyes and his face was haggard. He was muttering to himself. I bent low to hear him — I heard the words — curse — Yati, death. I could not contain myself and said, ‘Father, Yati is alive.’
    His hoarse voice said, ‘Where?’
    ‘I met him when I was escorting the victory horse.’ He was trembling all over. He said, ‘And you kept it from me so long? You feared he would succeed to the throne after me and you ...’
    He could not speak anymore and he looked so queer that I screamed, ‘Mother!’
    Mother rushed in, followed by the physician, the minister and the maids. The physician put a few drops of syrup into his mouth, which seemed to revive him. He whispered to the minister, ‘My life is now uncertain. Show me once the signet of my victory over Indra. Let me die looking at it. One should die in the halo of victory!’
    Mother was upset at his words and was wiping her eyes. I did not know how to console her. The Prime Minister brought the signet.
    Father said, ‘Give it to me.’ He turned it over and round and round and asked, ‘Where is the symbol of my prowess on this ... the bow and the arrow ... my bow ... my arrow ...?’
    Father stared at it, and called to me. He asked, ‘Yayu, is there any engraving on it?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What does it say?’
    ‘Victory, Victory be to King Nahusha!’
    ‘Why can’t I alone see the engraving? Has it also conspired against me?’
    Tears were streaming down his eyes and he sobbed, ‘No, I cannot see! Victory to Nahusha! No, all that is not true. He has been defeated today. Death has vanquished him. Death? I cannot see anything ... I ... I!’
    He fell back lifeless. Mother was trying to control herself, but she broke down! The physician with the help of a maid was putting drops of syrup into his mouth.
    Stealthily death had entered. None saw it but its oppressive shadow was evident in all faces.
    I could stand it no longer and came out, covering the face with my hands. I wanted to cry but could not.
    A little later, the physician and the Prince Minister came out. The physician put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Prince, at the moment he is feeling a little better and there is no cause for anxiety. But there is no certainty now and we must depend on God. You should go and rest in Ashokavan for a little while. If there is a change for the worse, the Prime Minister will immediately send word.’
    I was going down the main road. Crowds were gathered everywhere — some cheerful, others humming tunes to themselves and yet others sauntering as on a picnic in cool moonlight. Their gaiety only added to my misery.
    Mukulika was standing at the door all dressed up when I returned to Ashokavan. I went in without a word to her. She came forward to help me to change. I