The Legend of Amrapali

An enchanting saga buried within the sands of time

This book is a work of fiction

To be available at a bookstore near you from January 2012*

* You can also pre-order your copies online, starting December, 2011

Anurag Anand

Speaks

Beauty is usually a boon - in my case it turned out to be a bane. Authority is normally an outcome of ambition - for me it was a result of survival instinct.

Hi, I am Amrapali, the Nagarvadhu of Vaishali And with me, you are about to embark on a fascinating journey a journey into the world I come from.

In the following pages you shall witness glimpses of a time that is yours as much as it is mine your glorious past and my enduring present. You shall meet characters imposing and mystical, who helped chart my ascent to being one of the most revered women of Aryavart.

Excerpts from the book

The jungle smelled of trampled leaves and moist woods and was clad in a deep eerie silence. Sporadically he could hear faint calls and animal cries at a distance, and more than once he thought he heard the snipping of twigs or a hustle of leaves at uncomfortably close quarters. The scene was chilling enough to cause a seizure in the weaker of hearts, but he continued unabated. He had bigger fears that needed to be conquered.

He had barely passed the first couple of trees when a sound made him halt his advancing steps. It was a child crying. There was someone other than him in the orchard, an intruder. Perhaps some of the dasis from the nearby households had found the time to be opportune for stealing some green mangoes for making pickle. 'What brazen display of audacity! Getting a child along while stealing, these people are not scared of anyone. Wait till I get my hands on her,' he thought as he tiptoed towards the origin of the sound.

Speaks

Let me begin by introducing myself My parentage is unknown. I was found under a mango tree in a garden of Vaishali by Somdutt, a humble farmer, who along with his wife fostered me showering upon me an abundance of affection that even my real parents would have struggled to match. I had not even emerged out of my adolescence when my beauty became a matter of all round engrossment. My patrons claimed that my splendor was blinding and my dancing prowess unmatched. Later, as the Nagarvadhu of Vaishali, my exquisiteness was available for all who could afford its price, to drown their sorrows and worldly worries in. But there is much more to my story than just the riches and opulence. What underlines the story of my rise to eminence? Was the title of Nagarvadhu - in effect a glorified prostitute, a matter of choice for me? In a society that remained heavily prejudiced against my gender, how did I acquire the means to ramshackle the existing hierarchy of power? Did I eventually manage to savor the sweet taste of revenge or did it continue to remain elusive?
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Excerpts from the book

At one end of the playground he spotted a group of boys shouting and cheering over something. He peered over their heads to spot three set of bodies entangled in a wrestle in a small clearing that the crowd had encircled. One of them looked vaguely familiar. He immediately rushed towards the centre, using both his hands to carve a way amid the energetic onlookers and tugged on the hand he thought was his daughter's.

History is witness that no king is bigger than his subjects, Maharaj. A reign build on thousands of unsuspecting and innocent corpses can never be a successful one. We might lose one election, but the people will know what we stand for and it will just be a matter of time before Kalki's evil ways become known to the other Rajas. We will come back to power again, retaining the faith of our people,' the Amatya almost pleaded. He was worried at the direction the discussion seemed to be heading.

Speaks

Let us now meet some people who played a pivotal role in shaping my story The Legend of Amrapali.

Acharya Narhari: The revered guru of Rajkul - the Gurukul of the Kshtriyas. Acharya was the Senapati of Vaishali in his younger years and later, one of the most regarded teachers in the whole of Aryavart. It was Guruji to whom I owe my entire knowledge of the subtleties of politics and governance.

Pushpakumar: The list of my admirers was endless - with noble princes and wealthy merchants scampering over each other to gain my attention and favor. However, the one individual whose tenderness never failed to envelop me and whose presence was enough to make my heart skip a beat was Pushp the charming prince of my world.

Excerpts from the book

As the little girl winched opened the door, Somdutt felt a gush of smoke escape into the open from the confines of the house. Amrapali was sweating profusely and the house smelled of burnt sandalwood and camphor. 'What have you been doing?' he exclaimed. 'Baba, guru ji had said that if you do a havana, the Gods are bound to listen to you. I was doing a havana for mother's well being. She will be alright now,' she responded with an accomplished smile of belief.

She could see a bunch of peacocks dawdling in the distance. As if sensing the human presence, a flock of nervous parrots emerged from one of the nearby trees, fluttering away into oblivion. She was still admiring the synchronization of the flight when a white fluffy rabbit emerged from nowhere, dashing off to a nearby bush brushing past her toes. The garden presented a scene of such immense beauty unlike any she had witnessed before and instinctively she burst out into a dance of joy whirling and spinning to soak in the panorama around her.

Speaks

Ballabh: Bhaichunk, a Xiongnu (Mongolian) warrior who, in Vaishali, had been rechristened as Ballabh for the ease of articulation. A ferocious fighter, the movement of whose sword wielding arm became visible, it was claimed, only after it had severed the heads of his adversaries. Marred by the limitations of language, he took his orders from none but me. Ballabh and his five comrades constituted my personal bodyguard unit.

Prabha: There are some bonds that are forged at the time of ones birth I had none. And out of the associations that were formed during my lifetime, one of the most selfless and treasured ones was that with Prabha my childhood friend and soul mate. Her altruistic gallantry and unrelenting support lent a whole new meaning to the word 'friendship' and but for her, the canvas of my story would have adorned a completely different shade.

Excerpts from the book

Dressed in white and without the embellishment of other adornments, she painted a picture of purity and serenity that left the crowd stunned and speechless. It was as though she in her simplicity was making a statement that her beauty was imperforate and not subjugated to extraneous ornamentation.

The hall was ablaze with light from giant silver candelabras and torches. Rugs gleaming with gold thread covered the floors while the walls were hung with richly colored brocades decorated with strings of pearls and colored glass globes. The soothing smell of frankincense from incense burners in which golden crystals of resins were smoldering created an aura that no man could resist. 'Welcome to the Mahal of Amrapali, your beloved Nagarvadhu,' muttered Amrapali, as with the pre-decided beats of the tabla, Prabha took to the stage.

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Speaks

Manudeva: The illustrious Lichchavi King whose initial years at the helm marked Vaishali's ascent into a new era one of prominence and all round prosperity. Contrastingly in his later years Manudeva corrupted by the throes of conceit and arrogance, was also responsible for bringing about widespread misery and suffering to his populace. A man who was one of my most fervent admirers and yet my staunchest adversary.

Yudhveer: The Deputy King of Vaishali and a promising member of the Lichchavi clan. An able administrator and a worthy being marred only by the unrestrained flight of his ambitions. Yudhveer was instrumental in bringing about one of the most remarkable political coups in the history of Vaishali.

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Excerpts from the book

Unperturbed by the developments, the pace of Amrapali's movements was gradually intensifying as the musicians went hard on their instruments. Prabha had slowly drifted to the background and had made a quiet exit, leaving the entire stage open for Amrapali. Her bhavas changed like the moods of the sea, her eyes communicating with every member of the audience from under the flickering arch of her brow. If indeed there were Apsaras dancing in the heavens, they would surely be laden with pangs of jealousy at the act a mere mortal was putting up on stage tonight.

Within the affluent quarters, especially the wives of those who were regular visitors to Amrapali's palace and those handful of exceptional men who had managed to refrain from the indulgences, there were hushed whispers about the palace being a center of occult arts. The hypnotic effect of the Nagarvadhu's beauty on the men who set their eyes on her was well-known and it was only convenient to attribute it to powers beyond that of mere mortals. The reasoning also helped the women with an excuse to forgive their erring husbands and refrain from seeking uncomfortable explanations from them and from their own selves. The constant chugging of the palace chimneys and the sightings of untimely entries and exits added further credence to these rumors making the palace and its residents somewhat feared and dreaded as well.
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Speaks

Now that you are familiar with the cast, let me introduce you to the battleground the glorious land where my saga unfolded

The Vajji Kingdom (or Kingdom of Vaishali), in 500 B.C. and around, was one of the sixteen prominent confederacies of the Indian Subcontinent. It spanned from the Himalayas in the north to the Gandak River to its West, occupying most of the fertile lands of the Himalayan Gangetic Plains. The axial location of its capital city, Vaishali, also made it a prominent center for inland trade. Vaishali has the distinction of being one of the first republics to have a democratically elected government.

The city of Vaishali derives its name from King Vishal whose heroic deeds are chronicled in the Hindu epic Ramayana. In my time, the city was a hotbed for religion and learning as well. The Jain Tirthankar, Lord Mahavir was born in Kuldalgrama, a village in Vaishali. Lord Buddha too traveled to the city more than once during his lifetime. He even made a stop at Vaishali on his way to Kusinara, the place of his Mahaparinirvana the final deathless state and abandonment of his earthly body.
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Excerpts from the book

As they stepped inside they were greeted by a heavy, basal voice pronouncing the harmonic words of a shloka in a melodious chant. The voice clearly belonged to the old man who sat in one corner, eyes closed and using his thumb to count the rudraksha beads of a rosary he held between his index and middle fingers. His attire, like his beard and hair, was white like snow and a mercurial glow seemed to be emanating from his unusually broad forehead. 'Pranam Guruji,' Amrapali said as she went down on her knees to touch the man's feet.

'The chakra of suffering has completed a full circle today - with the tyrant himself being exposed to the agonizing stings of torment. But unlike you, he turned out to be a gutless escapist and succumbed to the inflictions of his own debauchery. Rejoice my friend, the Nagarvadhu of Vaishali, for the demon rests slain,' Prabha said, reaching out to embrace her friend.

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Speaks

I come from a time when we used chariots and horses instead of the machination you call motor vehicles. We didn't have gadgets like mobile phones that you today use to communicate with each other and neither were we blessed with devices like the television and radio. Also, a man whose name I struggle to pronounce had not thought of what you know as 'Facebook', back then.

So, if you are indeed interested in knowing more about me and my story, you can't call me and neither can you visit my Facebook profile. The one thing you can do though is grab your copy of 'The Legend of Amrapali' from your nearest bookstore and the one thing I can promise you is a story far more compelling than the glimpses you have already witnessed.

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About the Author

Anurag Anand is a Banking Professional from the city of dreams, Mumbai. His passion for writing is an offshoot of one of his favorite pastimes cuddling up with an interesting book and embarking on a voyage of fantasy, severing all ties with the world around. His other bestselling titles under the banner of Srishti Publishers include: Reality Bites: A not to innocent love story, and The Quest for Nothing: Where love and deceit are on a collision path Anurag's past works have been widely acclaimed for their realism, clear definition of characters and ability to transport readers into the world concealed within their pages. You can reach Anurag through: contact@anuraganand.in Anurag Anand anuraganand1978 www.anuraganand.in

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