Bereft of the dream that she had built for last two spell of summer, Padma spent the entire night trying to listen to the silent lament of the Grosbeak and Thrush. They were silent like her heart, devoid of any will to live. Wrapping the warmest fur around her bare skin, Padma stood at the window, looking towards the far horizon. Dawn would break soon. There was just enough light to mark out the outline of majestic mountains covered in snow, standing tall and proud from eternity to eternity. Padma stood there watching the morning eat away the last trace of the night. If only morning could erase the pains of previous night, world would be a much happier place. Life cannot be a slate that could be wiped clean without any marks lingering in some corner. She pulled her fur closer to her body. The morning had brought chill wind from North. Her burning hot body was shivering. Her ears were hot, eyes puffy, smeared with melting kohl, and her hair disheveled. Her inquietude mind and angry heart was revolting against her sealed fate.

Padma no longer knew what she wanted. All she needed was few moments when her mind would be silent. Her ears caught giggling in the corridors. It seemed every soul in the palace was happy at her distress. Was there no one in the kingdom who would rise to safeguard her rights? When the King, her father had cruelly snatched away her rights, who would she turn to? She moved around the palace like a figurine in trance.

Pundits had consulted their horoscope and had arrived on the most auspicious day to mark the beginning of the ceremonies that would ensure Garvpundir a worthy heir from Padma. The day was eight cycles of moon away. Messengers were sent on the fastest horses available in the kingdom. The royal household of Garvpundir was taking no chances. There were arrangements everywhere. Padma was needed everywhere. Like a resolve-less rag doll, she complied.

Padma summoned by the King to model for painters. The Swaymvar hall had to be adored with a beautiful painting of the princess which would be unveiled on the Welcome Day. The contest would begin after three days from the Welcome Day. Most of the princes and Kings would be travelling for days to reach Garvpundir. They would need some rest to give their best. For three days, the participating prince and kings would be provided with anything they would require to rest and relax to remove the tiredness after a tedious journey. Traditions dictate that, the princess would not meet any of the suitors till the contest is over. Padma’s parent thought it was a blessing. They could not risk Padma eloping with any charming prince of a lesser kingdom. They were ensuring the outcome of the Swaymvar. Padma could change the outcome if she lost her heart to any prince. She was to be kept away from the young and good looking suitors at all cost.

The guests would need to be given few incentives to win the contest. That would increase the social and political standing of Garvpundir. A painting of Padma would be an inventive enough. The painting had to be such that each and every king and prince present would lose their heart to her. For the next few days, the suitors would be incapable of thinking about anybody else, except Padma. The painting should ensure that the princess and kings would not and should not rest till they win the contest to be the one on her nuptial bed. Some two hundred painters from far and near arrived for the job. Padma had to sit as a model for a group of five for first round. Only one of the painters who could paint the soulful beauty of Padma would be given the job of painting a larger than life portrait of the princess.

A set of physician were also examining princess Padma every day. Every day, they would make her drink some black, some green and some orange portions. Some of them were viscous and others diluted, few tasted bland like saliva while others were as bitter as poison. Princess endured it all. Garvpundir was making sure that on the day of Swaymvar and the nigh of bedding, the Princess would be in perfect health and beauty to bear a son. Padma was supposed to steal the heart of her king on the same night, their night of their conjugal life. She had to make sure that the king would be her slave once and forever.

Beautician from distant lands like China and the united empire of Claudius came to Garvpundir to offer their service. It was the first time a Swaymvar of such magnitude was taking place in a remote kingdom in the mountains which called for the valor of princes and kings. None of the kingdoms wanted to lose the opportunity to humble not so friendly and friendly kingdoms in a peaceful manner. Any kingdom refusing to participate would look weak willed. It was a strategy that worked. In no time, Garvpundir was on every body’s tongue. Its importance soared. Nobody wanted to miss out the event of the decade if not the century. 

Princess Padmakishori’s days were occupied by painter, physician, beauticians, and last but not the least, religious experts. Religious expert from the kingdom would counsel her on sanctity and the importance of marriage, the place of husband as per the scripture, her duties and what was expected of her.

At night the royal courtesans and concubines would visit Padma’s chamber to train her, the still withheld art of allurement and seduction. The windows would be covered by heavy draperies, and fire would be lit in the fire bowls around the bed to provide warmth in the room. The room would be filled with the incense and orchids of all colors and then, the ladies of the night would begin their work. Thankfully, this training was not as strenuous as the other trainings that filled Padma’s days. One of them would be playing flute, others would be caressing her tired feet, playing with her hair, nape or face. The session both verbal and practical would go on for few hours before Padma would retire to bed.  

As days passed, the effects of the trainings were visible. Color returned to fair cheeks of Padma. Her pink lips were getting deeper shade of red. Her hair now felt softer and silkier. Every time she walked, her hips moved like a lazy serpentine rousing at sun down. Padma spoke seldom now, and when she did, silvery smoky voice would tantalize the listener. Days of training was transforming her from a girl of sixteen summers to a woman waiting to take a lover to her bed.

Only two cycles of moon remained before the Swaymvar would start. Gifts and messenger from the kingdoms invited began trickling in. Most of the kings and princess had sent their portraits and gifts for the princess. All of the gifts were arranged in private promenade, south of Padma’s bed chamber with portraits of the prospective groom and the kingdom’s name. A faint smile crossed her lips as Padma walked through the hall. Some of the gifts were really pretty and some of the princes were so handsome. If only she could choose her husband!

Cold despair gripped Padma’s heart. She did not hear her mother walking in. Attendants were dismissed. Queen Jaiwanti Devi had to share something with her daughter. Padma was already treated as a guest who was in the kingdom for few more days. Once the Swaymvar is over, Padma would go to her new home forever. If everything went as planned, Jaiwanti’s daughter would be the Queen of Jodhgargh. A runner had announced the King Uday Sangha would be arriving in the capital before the day ends. It was the time for a mother to talk her daughter about her future.  

Jaiwanti took her to portrait of an elderly man who would have seen not less than three scores of summers. It was sent from Jodhgargh with seven set of minakari[1] gold jewelry, six set of diamond bracelet, five pots of precious stones, four silk veils and a pot of silver coins.  Silver coins were to be distributed to poor by princess Padma to remove any ill effect of jealous eyes. Jaiwanti had confided the arrangement that would favor King Uday Sangha to win the Swaymvar. Still, she cautioned Padma that there may be an element of surprise that fate had hidden in the folds. Jaiwanti wanted her daughter to be prepared for any eventuality. If any prince or king managed to win a contest that was unfair to him, it meant only one thing. The fate favored him. It would be a foolish to choose anybody else over a fortunate groom and disregard signs of gods.

Jaiwanti took Padma to the veiled rock balcony to witness the arrival of King Uday. King Uday would be the first king to arrive for Swaymvar. He had received a personal note from the King Bikka inviting him for bilateral trade negotiations and a hunting trip to Himalayas prior to the Swaymvar.

The marriage cortege of King Uday Sangha was impressive. The King had to leave behind his elephants in foot of the mountains. The King Uday was in the middle of horse cavalry. The King Rawwal Bikka was at the entrance with his ministers to welcome the King. The horse riders moved, giving way for the King Uday. Uday dismounted. A drop of tear rolled down Padma’s cheek. He was a tall man who had seen more than sixty summers. However, his girth which was more than half of his height made him look rather shorter than average man. He was not dressed for the mountains. He was definitely cold, but he bravely bore it all with a smile. With a lighthearted laughter he lumbered his way to King Rawwal and embraced him. A sob caught in Padma’s throat. To an eye of a casual onlooker, it would appear, an affectionate son embracing his old father on his return after a long journey. 

Padma could no longer bear the sight of her foretold misery. She ran to her chamber. Jaiwanti did not follow her daughter. Padma needed some lonely time to accept her fate.

Section of the palace housing Padma’s chamber was made inaccessible to the guests and visiting dignitaries. Padma too was to remain confined in her section. It was not appropriate for any of the prospective grooms to look at Padma before winning the contest. Most of the attendants and handmaids were assigned to duties of visiting dignitaries. Padma’s section now had lesser number of attendants and handmaid. 

Padma sent her attendants away. She tore down all the flower decoration in her chamber and then snatched away all the jewelry she wore. She pulled down the drapes to block the midday sun. Today, Padma hated the sight of bright and warm sun in a day when water was freezing. Her future was dark, bleak and melancholic. There was no Sun in her future. She was getting accustomed to the darkness that was filling up her existence.

The Sun was about to cross the winter sky when one of the attendants brought the painter, Avikam whose painting of Padma was judged the best. In one cycle of the moon, he had to complete a larger than life size painting of Padma which would adore the Swaymvar hall. It was Padma’s first sitting. Padma had to pose for Avikam every day, starting from the next day. Today was the official introduction.  Very professionally and confidently, Avikam moved to the windows and removed all the draping. He lit few diya[2] and arranged it on the stand near the bed, rotated the huge bronze mirror to reflect the light of the diya to one of the cathedra, then stood in front of Padma, palm folded in posture of ‘Namaste’ and eye fixed on floor.

In a smooth husky voice, the artiste addressed Padma,

“I am told to replicate your beauty on to a canvas. It would be a blasphemy on my part if I claim that I can do that. Your beauty cannot be sketched. Please look around, the room is lighted by the diya I lit; still, it cannot be compared to the light of setting Sun. My painting is but light of diya, they may light up the room, but not the world. Your beauty is like the rays of the Sun; they light up the world. Men should not try recreating those handiworks of gods whose purpose is to fill men with inspiration to carve an offering from a part of their soul. Princess, you are handiwork of God, I am inspired to offer you my soul in form of the portrait that I am to paint.”

Padma was in a foul mood. Without a word, she asked the attendant and Avikam to leave. Tomorrow onwards, she would not be able to do it, when he would be beginning the painting. On introduction day, she was supposed to be introduced to the painter which she obliged. She needed to be left alone.

Next afternoon the artist was scheduled to arrive in Padma’s chamber after the midday meal. Every day, he would start painting from midday till evening. A cathedra was placed near the west window of the room. The rays of afternoon Sun would light up the room and fall strongly on right side of Padma’s face, creating a nice play of light and shadow. The canvas and paints were all set. Just after midday meal, a tanned man of average height dressed in white spotless dhoti[3] entered. His hair fell on his shoulder like thick waves. He had sharp eyes and hawkish nose with pencil thin lips. Greeting the princess, he stood behind the canvas, waiting for princess to settle in. It was his domain. He was radiating confidence.

Soon Padma could hear charcoal being rubbed on the canvas. Smooth sound of rubbing charcoal on wood at regular interval was lulling her to sleep. Padma’s eye felt heavy, she was drifting in and out of slumber land. When she opened her eyes, the artiste was holding the pillow to support her head during her forty winks. Abashed Padma adjusted her posture and asked,

“Thanks, did I nod off for long?”

Smiling, Avikam returned to his canvas, “Just for a moment”.

Padma looked out of the window. Sun had traveled a lot. The artiste was lying. It was a chivalrous act from most unexpected person. Sun was about to set. He was wrapping up for the day. His spotless white loincloth was smeared with charcoal. She walked to the canvas; there was a vague outline on it.

“How long would the portrait take?” Padma inquired

“I have to complete it soon, Princess. Tomorrow, you would be able to see the form and after couple of days, will add color to it. It will be ready before Swaymvar.”

Smile that was playing on Padma’s face disappeared.

All this for Swaymvar! A regal portrait of a pin and proper princess – Huh!

She dismissed all her attendants. There was a question that she wanted to ask the artiste, which should not fall into ears of the King or Queen or any member of the royal family.

“Is it true that Artiste can see the soul of the person they paint?”

“It may not be my place to speak, Princess. The answer may offend any blue blood. I should remain silent.”

“Speak without fear. I want to know.”

“Eye of an artist sees the Will of God. A person may be heedless of his or her true nature, but it rarely remains hidden from an artist’s eye. His hands would always find the same form that was used to shape him or her in Gods’ furnace. His eyes always look at the true form – the pristine mold underneath the visible persona.”

“Can you paint my underived cast?”

“Princess, would you call me in your new kingdom for the painting?”

“No, starting from tomorrow, you can paint my true form for few days and then resume your original work. Can you finish this royal façade in half of the time given to you? Do not worry you would be handsomely rewarded.”

“It would be my honor to paint your pristine mold. But Princess, it may so happen I would lose my head for it. I would face terrible retribution if Princess finds it offending.”

“I give you my word upon my honor. May the Sun God be the witness; you would not be punished for your work. Feel free to paint my underived cast without any hesitation.”

“I trust my Princess. Surely, Princess cannot stop so many princes and her family, should they take an offense. If they take it as assault on their honor, I would be subjected to mortification and severe chastisement.”

“We would have complete privacy. Nobody, but I would know that you would paint two portraits instead of one and my trusted handmaids.”

“I am honored Princess. However, I have one condition. You would not gaze upon the painting of your true form until it is completed.”

“Agreed.”

The next afternoon, all of the attendants were dismissed till Sun down. Two of her most trusted handmaids were stationed in front of the door, watchful of any intruder. Avikam started on his master piece. He would keep on smiling as his brush stroked the canvas. It would kindle Padma’s inquisitiveness, but Avikam was unyielding. He would not let the princess have a glance. The dreary session slowly became interesting. Avikam replied to usual questions of the Princess with wits and real life incidents from far-flung lands. Avikam had traveled to lands across the mountains and sea. He has seen strange lands and stranger customs. Padma’s eyes were open in bewilderment. Padma’s life was confined to the palace, save occasional trips to temples through the forest and mountains. She listened to the tales with curiosity of a child.

The days passed, on the fourth day, Avikam had completed his clandestine assignment. The true form of Padma was covered by white softest translucent silk. Padma was standing in front of her true form which would be unveiled in couple of moments. Avikam stepped beside the true form and said, “Princess Padma, meet your true form – Anala Madhavilata, a Fiery Flowering Creeper.”

Padma froze in preconception. Something told her that she was stepping into a precarious terrain. Artiste’s eyes were fixed on her. He had one hand on one end of the silk, ready to pull it. He was taking his time, savoring each moment of her held breath.

The silk started moving. Padma apperceived it moving on her bare silhouette. Inch by inch, the silk moved, Padma could see Anala’s drowsy eyes and tousled hair. Silk slid down further, Anala’s neck was arched, and face lifted upward, moist lips halfway open, laden with thirst. She was leaning on a stone pillar. Silk dropped a little more. The string that held the garland of white Madan Mogra[4], was broken in couple of places. Buds looked ashen - tired, and some blossomed florets were crushed. Sun fell on bare shoulder of Anala; Padma could feel its heat.

Avikam with his eyes peeled on Padma, pulled the cloth in hand. The silk slithered, exposing Anala’s voluptuous breast. A translucent white piece of cloth was covering just a meager portion of flesh; above and below her haughty nipples. Padma’s cheek turned red, seeing the tussore wet with sweat. A knot was hastily tied on the cleavage. Moist cloth could hardly conceal Anala’s sybaritic teats. Her garland disappeared just below the knot. Padma could feel her fragrance of the crushed flowers radiating from her. Avikam’s fixed eyes and Anala’s fleshly life were drifting in front of her eyes.

The white silk glissaded little more. Anala’s bare flat stomach and deep naval could be Padma’s. Her fair skin was glistening with drops of sweat. Padma was breathing hard; she could feel Anala rising in her. Avikam’s eyes were educing Anala in her. As he kept on unclothing the figurine, Padma felt being disrobed. His eyes were stripping her at a leisurely pace. The cloth had slipped inches below her naval. Anala’s waist was bare, and so was the half of her hips. Her senses told her to stop this madness, but there was a relief in this nism. Padma’s lips were trembling. Avikam pulled away the silk and threw it on ground. Anala’s full form was now exposed. One of her legs was pulled up and was resting on the pillar another seeking comfort of soft lush verdure.

A rectangular translucent white cloth was tied with a knot on left hip. Anala’s left leg was almost uncovered save the knot. There wayward air was pushing the moist fabric in the faint cleft line. Anala’s pubic mound was swollen with excitement of her salacious encounter, few moments earlier. Anala’s exhaustion was propelling Padma to a wanton behavior. Padma tried to avert her eyes from Anala’s swollen labia, but her gaze was fixed at the faint wetness. Avikam kept gaping at Padma, there was a fire in his eyes. His eyes were skimming Padma’s jewelry, her fur and the yards of silk that covered her. Padma’s ears and cheeks were blazing. Her breath was fast, heart pumping as never before. She was burning hot, she felt like throwing away the fur. Drop of sweat was trickling down her back. However, she was not sure, if what was trickling her thighs was sweat. It seemed thicker than it and definitely sweater. A sultry voice of Alana’s voice was replying to Padma’s confusion.

Let him have his moment. Don’t stop his gaze. After all, has he not seen you the way you are? There is nothing that you can hide by draping in cloth. He has felt you, when he touched me. I have felt his finger touching every inch of my body as they created it. I know the surging passions; let yourself loose, in it is fire. Feel the magic of his gaze. Feel it, feel it touching your skin, stripping you, kissing every bit of it with fervent libidinous.

Padma was not aware of anything that happened. Avikam had veiled Anala before moving to the portrait he was assigned to paint. Both Padma and he resumed their work. Padma sat through the evening vaguely aware of the approaching cinereal evening. Her mind was meandering in obscured nameless lanes of unexplored arousal. Being deprived of her only reverie, her mind was pushing her to vagaries. When Avikam sought permission to leave for the day, she called for a tote bag. With a faint smile - silently, she handed the bag full of gold coins to Avikam like person in a deep dream.

It must have been the first phase of the night, when Padmakishori’s handmaid, Kavita knocked at the inn room where Avikam was staying. Princess had expressed the desire to meet the painter. Avikam, if surprised at being summoned at such an odd time, did not show it. Kavita led him towards the forest. Quietly, they walked through frore night. After covering half way, she blind folded him. It was necessary for security reasons. Kavita was taking Avikam to meet Padma through a secret passage. The palace had innumerable such secret passage opening in different locations. Under the ground, these secret passages formed a labyrinth. That was second level of security. Only the members of royal family, and a few trusted maids, slaves and servants knew the path out of the maze. If by any chance, any enemy enters the passage, he would starve himself to death.

Kavita was seven summers older to Padma. She had been assigned to Padma’s service since Padma was only two. Kavita was Padma’s closest handmaid, and also a confidante. Kavita knew that a whisper of Avikam’s visit to Princess Chamber at the night would invite either an execution or a war. She was very careful in planning. The innermost gate was always attended by Princesses’ handmaids in peace time. All the regular guards and maids were assigned in first and second gate. These guards and maids assigned in the second and first gate were unaware of this visit. They were given strict orders not to let anybody enter. The princess wanted a night of undisturbed sleep to sooth her headache.

Padma and her four closest aides knew the guards in first and second gate would not be able to stop any member of royal family from entering. Any of such visits should be known from the first gate to avoid any surprises. Priyanka, who was the fastest runner would be loitering near the first gate and run back to Padma at the sign of any unwanted visitor. Smriti would be near the second gate and the talkative Mani would stall the visitor with sweet formalities and Kavita would sneak in and hide Padma’s special guest in the secret passage, spruce up Padma and her chamber before any royal family member enters.

Next Chapter: CHAPTER 3: THE TRUE FORM