Veerbhadra came forward, embraced Shiva affectionately and whispered, ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t be stupid. There’s no need for a “thank you“!’ said Shiva with a grin.
Veerbhadra smiled broadly.
‘And listen!’ snarled Shiva in mock anger. ‘You are going to answer to your best friend over
the next chillum we share on how you dared to love another woman for so long without even
speaking to me about it!’
Everybody laughed out loud.
‘Will a good batch of marijuana make up for it?’ asked Veerbhadra, smiling.
‘Well, I’ll think about it!’
‘Doesn’t she look tired?’ asked a concerned Ayurvati, looking at Sati.
Sati had just gotten up from the player platform as she and her mother had been excused
for this particular ceremony. This was only for the bridegroom and the father-in-law. The
pandits were preparing for the puja, which would take a few moments.
‘Well, it has been six days of almost continuous celebrations and pujas,’ said Kanakhala.
‘Though it is the custom that all this be done for a royal wedding, I can understand her being
tired.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say it has anything to do with the six days of pujas,’ said Brahaspati.
‘No?’ asked Kanakhala.
‘No,’ answered Brahaspati, mischievously. ‘I think it has to do with the five nights’
‘What?’ exclaimed Ayurvati, then blushed a deep red as the meaning of Brahaspati’s words
dawned on her.
Parvateshwar, who was sitting next to Kanakhala, glared at Brahaspati for the highly
improper remark. Brahaspati guffawed as the ladies giggled quietly. An assistant pandit turned
around in irritation. But on seeing the seniority of the Brahmins sitting behind him, he
immediately swallowed his annoyance and returned to his preparations.
Parvateshwar however had no such compunctions. ‘I can’t believe the kind of conversation I
am being forced to endure!’ He rose to walk to the back of the congregation.
This made even Kanakhala and Ayurvati to chortle. One of the senior pandits turned to
signal that the ceremony was about to begin, making them fall silent immediately.
The pandits resumed the invocations of the shlokas. Both Shiva and Daksha continued to
pour the ceremonial ghee into the sacred fire at regular intervals while saying, ‘Swaha’.
In between two successive swahas, there was enough time for Shiva and Daksha to talk
softly to each other. They spoke of Sati. And only Sati. To any neutral observer, it would have
been difficult to decide who loved the princess more. The pandit took a momentary break in his
recitation of the shlokas, the cue for Shiva and Daksha to pour some more ghee into the sacred
fire with a ‘Swaha.’ A little ghee spilled onto Daksha hands. As Shiva immediately pulled the
napkin on his side to wipe it off, he noticed the chosen-tribe amulet on Daksha’s arm. He was
stunned on seeing the animal there, but had the good sense to not make a comment. Daksha
meanwhile had also turned and noticed Shiva’s gaze.
‘It wasn’t my choice. My father chose it for me,’ said Daksha, with a warm smile, while
wiping the ghee off his hands. There was not a hint of embarrassment in his voice. If one