Chapter 9
Maitreyi and Katyayani had been busy since morning. Royal emissaries from Videha had camped in the hermitage for the last three days and they were to leave for Videha today with Yajnyawalkya and a few of his chosen disciples. The king had sent his special envoy to bring Yajnyawalkya to Videha. It was an honor bestowed only on the chosen few. Tomorrow by this time in the morning, Yajnyawalkya was to set off on his journey. Everyone knew that Yajnyawalkya was being looked upon as the indubitable philosopher king of Janaka.'s court ever since his victory in the philosophical debate at Videha.
Katyayani and Maitreyi were on their way back to the cottage from the river. Maitrey suddenly broke forth.
“Katya, do you think Yajnyawalkya knows why he is invited to Videha by Janaka?”
“And do you know it?”
“I apprehend, Yajnyawalkya is not his own self. He seems weary; weary of words, weary of people, and weary of his bonding with them. I am afraid, he is weary of himself.”
“Do you want to suggest that Janaka knows it?”
“I do not know what Janaka knows. But Yajnyawalkya seems to be touched by something beyond my comprehension.More than ever before he is living within himself. I fear it. I don't know why, but it does not augur well.”
Katyayani stopped and looked deep into the eyes of Maitreyi.Those eyes always filled in the blanks between her words. Katyayani could always recognize feelings in their raw, uncouth tenderness, with an uncanny female intuition. With a ruthless clarity, she flung the question unceremoniously at Maitreyi .
“Did anything happen at night?'
Maitreyi stood aghast, staring at Katyayani, and then as usual, looked away.
It was Katyayani who continued.
“I know, I know what you mean. Have I not scorched myself trying to contain the fire of an unknown origin? And that was where you came in. I trusted that torch to you because it was not within my capacity either to keep it burning or to keep it from scorching those who came near it. But you seemed so unreal that I felt, no fire could devour you!”
Katyayani sighed wearily and looked at Maitreyi with a tender concern. Then she looked at the silk-cotton trees that lined the path. Above them the bare leafless branches made an austere, irregular pattern against the background of an empty sky. But at the end of each outstretched branch, as though in a gesture of offering, was a red silken flower, painfully beautiful. Katyayani continued to gaze at it, not knowing how the pain within her assumed the shape of what she saw outside.
Maitreyi looked at her, amazed by the capacity for introspection in this seemingly uncouth woman. A gentle smile lit up the corners of her tightly held lips and charmed
away the dimly perceptible traces of anxiety. She too stared unconsciously at the silk-cotton flowers which stood as if ostracized by the rejoicing forest.
The sun had ascended higher in the sky. The two of them quickened their pace as they walked back home, barefoot.
Maitreyi and Katyayani had been busy since morning. Royal emissaries from Videha had camped in the hermitage for the last three days and they were to leave for Videha today with Yajnyawalkya and a few of his chosen disciples. The king had sent his special envoy to bring Yajnyawalkya to Videha. It was an honor bestowed only on the chosen few. Tomorrow by this time in the morning, Yajnyawalkya was to set off on his journey. Everyone knew that Yajnyawalkya was being looked upon as the indubitable philosopher king of Janaka.'s court ever since his victory in the philosophical debate at Videha.
Katyayani and Maitreyi were on their way back to the cottage from the river. Maitrey suddenly broke forth.
“Katya, do you think Yajnyawalkya knows why he is invited to Videha by Janaka?”
“And do you know it?”
“I apprehend, Yajnyawalkya is not his own self. He seems weary; weary of words, weary of people, and weary of his bonding with them. I am afraid, he is weary of himself.”
“Do you want to suggest that Janaka knows it?”
“I do not know what Janaka knows. But Yajnyawalkya seems to be touched by something beyond my comprehension.More than ever before he is living within himself. I fear it. I don't know why, but it does not augur well.”
Katyayani stopped and looked deep into the eyes of Maitreyi.Those eyes always filled in the blanks between her words. Katyayani could always recognize feelings in their raw, uncouth tenderness, with an uncanny female intuition. With a ruthless clarity, she flung the question unceremoniously at Maitreyi .
“Did anything happen at night?'
Maitreyi stood aghast, staring at Katyayani, and then as usual, looked away.
It was Katyayani who continued.
“I know, I know what you mean. Have I not scorched myself trying to contain the fire of an unknown origin? And that was where you came in. I trusted that torch to you because it was not within my capacity either to keep it burning or to keep it from scorching those who came near it. But you seemed so unreal that I felt, no fire could devour you!”
Katyayani sighed wearily and looked at Maitreyi with a tender concern. Then she looked at the silk-cotton trees that lined the path. Above them the bare leafless branches made an austere, irregular pattern against the background of an empty sky. But at the end of each outstretched branch, as though in a gesture of offering, was a red silken flower, painfully beautiful. Katyayani continued to gaze at it, not knowing how the pain within her assumed the shape of what she saw outside.
Maitreyi looked at her, amazed by the capacity for introspection in this seemingly uncouth woman. A gentle smile lit up the corners of her tightly held lips and charmed
away the dimly perceptible traces of anxiety. She too stared unconsciously at the silk-cotton flowers which stood as if ostracized by the rejoicing forest.
The sun had ascended higher in the sky. The two of them quickened their pace as they walked back home, barefoot.
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