Free MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) by Ashok K. Banker Page A

so, pressing her body against Yayati. He felt a stir of arousal when she did so, and had to force himself to keep his mind on the line of discussion. ‘I knew you were teasing! Yes, of course I mean us. You were the one who said you wished to ask my father for my hand in marriage, silly man.’ 
    ‘I did not,’ he began, then thought back through their talk. ‘I only meant that I would be honoured to meet such a learned man!’ 
    ‘And to marry his equally learned daughter?’ Devayani asked innocently. ‘That is what you implied, did you not? I accepted your proposal of marriage at once, but of course you must meet my father to seal the scroll.’ 
    Yayati began feeling as if he had been manipulated and outmaneuvered by an opponent shrewder than any enemy general. He turned away, gazing out at the late morning sunlight drifting in through the eaves. ‘Devayani, I cannot marry you. It is quite impossible. Surely you know that!’
    Devayani cried out as if someone had pricked her heart with a dagger. ‘How can you say such a thing? After holding my hand and pulling me from the well, your body so close to my own? No man has ever caught hold of my hand in such a way before, nor given me such a strong indication of his feelings towards me.’ She was not telling the whole truth of course, although it was true that even her erstwhile paramour Kacha had never had actual physical contact with her. Kacha had been rigid in his vows to the end. But even Yayati could not deny that he had caught hold of her hand. How else could he have helped her out of that damp dungeon of a well?
    ‘I know that in our culture, when a man takes hold of a woman’s hand, it indicates his desire to marry her. But in my case, I had no such desire,’ he said firmly. ‘I was merely saving your life. In any case, we can never marry. You are a brahmin’s daughter and I a raj-kshatriya. It is forbidden for us to cross castes in marriage or childbirth!’ 
    ‘Not forbidden,’ she said evasively, ‘merely frowned upon. Besides, you are no ordinary kshatriya, you are a raj-kshatriya of great Vedic learning. Which makes you no less than a brahmin yourself!’ 
    Yayati shook his head, chuckling. ‘You would argue that the sun was the moon if it suited your purpose, Devayani. But no amount of learning alone makes a kshatriya a brahmin. There are other conditions and modalities of behaviour. I cannot take the rigid vows of a brahmin. I am a king. I must hunt and kill and do what is necessary to protect my people and kingdom, expand my territories and spread my power. These are things forbidden to any brahmin. If you marry someone like me, your children would become outcastes! They would be shunned by both our people – brahmins would never accept them as brahmins, and kshatriyas would doubt their valour and willingness to take up arms. It would be impossible for me to sire a suitable heir to the throne and as king, it is my dharma to make an heir suitable to ascend in my stead. No, Devayani, you must give up this foolish notion. We can never marry. It would be against your dharma as well as my own.’
    But Devayani was not easily dissuaded once she had made up her mind. When sweet words and persuasion had no effect, she began to lose her temper and revealed her sour, bitter side. In no time at all, she was lashing out at him with the blade of her tongue. ‘I have deemed it to be appropriate. Therefore there is no point arguing further. You shall ask my father for my hand in marriage and we shall be wed. I am a proud and honourable daughter. Once a man has caught my hand and then later wooed me as you have these past days, I can never touch another man on pain of death. You have made it impossible for me to marry any other man now. Dharma clearly says that once a man touches a maiden’s hand, he is obliged to marry her. Therefore, by the dharma of the touching hand, you are now obliged to marry me to save me from falling into ignonimy!’ 
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