The landscapes of India are vast and diverse: tall mountain chains that stretch for hundreds of kilometers, Alpine plateaus that are so high only monks and small villagers are found there, deep and rich green forests that are blessing the people with shadow in times of heat, wide beaches full of sand the color of gold and an ocean full of opportunities, far and endless deserts that create illusions of the great kingdoms that once were, and anything in between, that subcontinent has it. A place where myth meets reality, where legends are born, where stories of past civilisations rise from the ashes of time and tell us about the traditions of a whole culture, so unique and so diverse, where religion blends with everyday life and where emotions are celebrated and expressed through metaphors, meant to be understood only by the ones who share these feelings. The forest of Chandrapal was enormous, it stretched for tens of kilometres, reaching the shore of the ocean and the outskirts of the desert, with vegetation so lush and luxurious that you could get lost without someone who knew the ways around there. Lotus flowers grew in the lakes that were spread throughout the forest, mangoes and papaya grew all around the forest, where all kinds of monkeys and apes feasted upon them and yellow mustard was grown in parcels of land where sun was more welcoming. The fauna was as rich as the vegetation, all kinds of animals inhabiting the welcoming forest, and one such animal was the pride of the kingdom, the tigers. Deep inside the forest, a sprawling city was rising it’s head, the capital of the Chandra Kingdom, the one that established ownership over the forest and its blessings.
The city wasn’t big, but it was large enough that it would be placed on the international maps, a trading centre for those brave enough to wander through one such danger and a shelter for ones who were running from oppression. It had waterfalls that graced the land and rocks that created beauties worthy of the gods themselves. The houses were modest, from stones that were decorated with intricate designs, and of course palace was made out of white and black marble, symbolising the passing of the moon, with silver details all along its walls. The courts were full of animals, from mighty tigers to regal, cocky and imposing peacocks, to nagas that were tamed and were living happily in the comfy silver boxes. The king had all kinds of connections with nearby kingdoms and even empires, since they had a lot of materials they could export and they were always peaceful, even being summoned to calm down the waters between old allies and new enemies, always managing to get them to agree on a truce, gaining the respect of great leaders. The leader and his wife were known as kind leaders, tolerant and most of all smart and close to their people. The queen sought after the economic side of the kingdom, making sure the trade routes were clear, the deals were seen through, and that everyone was paid fairly, dealing with all kinds of issues that appeared form now and then. She also made sure that all the other cities were connected with the capital, whilst the king oversaw the religious matters of the kingdom. The national religion was Shavaism, but they were extremely tolerant, accepting people from each and any faith because in Lord Shiva’s eyes, everyone was equal and deserving of a home. He also dealt with politics and the army of his region, claiming that The Destroyer will dispel any evil that he sees upon his kingdom, since no evil can brew on his watch, defending them from the possible destruction that chaos could havoc on them.
But the greatest of them all, the diamond of the capital and the pride of the leaders themselves, was the temple in the middle of the city, carefully placed right in the centre. Behind and next to it, a pond with clear water hugged the marble base, lotus flowers decorating the surface and oil lamps floating, creating the light that made it so beautiful in the night. At the front of the temple 2 grand censes laid mighty, fire burning in them, their light reflecting on the walls of the temple making it even more beautiful. White marble stairs, with blue flower details and curvy lines, climbed up to the base of the temple, where the entrance laid calmly, welcoming each and any worshipper eager enough to pray inside. It was tall, the walls a beautiful shade of white mixed with blue details in classic Indus architecture, with some silver touch-ups that made the temple gleam in the light of the sun. The roof was made up by multiple domes, 4 smaller ones and 1 bigger one, that had a serpent going around it, with the sign of the moon on top of its head. This bigger one was entirely made out of silver, while the snake was made part white, part blue with the silver enriching it through details like the contour of the scales or the fangs. The other domes only had silver highlights and some small decorations, and the pillars that added more depth were full of intricate flowers made out of black marble and small depictions of the stories that mention Lord Shiva. In the daylight, the temple was grand, it was beautiful and even the grand emperors and kings of the Indus subcontinent praised its beauty and grace, but when the moonlight came shy from the dark sky, the silver details gave the temple an ethereal look, making you feel like you were part of an unspoken event, a blessing by the gods themselves.
As one such night came along, where the full moon was gracing the temple with its pale and surreal light, the fire was burning stronger in the censes alongside magnolia flowers and sandalwood, and the oil lamps on the pond were mimicking the stars, a bunch of girls were gathered in front of the temple’s entrance, along with some men that carried instruments. Viewers of the whole capital came to the temple’s steps and looked at the spectacle in front of them, curious on what is happening there. All the girls were adorned in Bharatanatyam jewelries and costumes, with light blue blouses, black pyjama, a deep blue pallu, silver small fan and a light blue large one, and a lighter black back piece, decorated on the sides with blue details, adorned with jewelries and accessories, but one shown herself in a different costume. Her blouse and pyjama were white, a silver pallu was draped on over her chest and a silver back piece was graciously wraping itself over her figure, and the small and large fan were a mix of white material enriched with silver details such as flowers, little moons, lines that practically made no sense, but made her look like a divine being under the beautiful moon, gleaming with the same ethereal grandeur and mysticism like the temple in which she laid still. Her kajal-painted eyes were piercing, her alta stained hands and feet were making her seen from a mile, enhancing every movement of her fingers, and the most important of the whole costume, the ghungroos that clinked with every step, announcing her arrival on the scene she alongside the other girls created. Silver jhumkas with blue peacock feathers adorned her ears and a mattal that had the same design adorned her forehead, a golden nathni pierced her nose and golden malas dangled from her neck. On her hands she wore silver chudiyas and white vaankis, and the piece that completed the accessories was a Chandra hair ornament. Her hair was also nicely hung in a long ponytail, with white Gajras and jada bilalu tied along it and placed on top of her head, and on the end of her tail, silver jada kuppulus were tied, making her look like a true goddess of dance.
The men there were starting to take their places, some with tablas, some with veenas, some were sitting patiently waiting for the girls to take position. Soon the spectacle started. Music played so graciously that could be heard even from the outskirts of the capital, and soon the girls that were all sitting, started to dance. Along the rhythms of the table, their feet hit against the ground, the clink of the bells harmonizing with the chorus. Beautiful expressions blended with sharp and clear mudras, their movements telling the public stories of great devotion. The celestial dancer, sitting at the front of the group, was coordinating each and every dancer, playing the main roles in every scene they were telling, getting to grace the viewers with her moves in a solo dance moment and showing off their coordination in a number that needed all of them to dance in perfect synchronization. The stories varied, all of them dedicated to Lord Shiva, the king of the divine dance, Nataraj, this show being one of devotion for him, gracing the others and honoring his status as the greatest dancer.
The girls sought his blessings through their dance, and they were grateful for Chandramukhi, the ethereal girl that helped them with their mudras and footwork, that guided them through training, and that helped them when they needed advice, but the girls were thankful to her because it was her that made them not only complete the dance, but to also feel it. It was her way of speaking, her way of moving, her way of showing off emotions through her eyes, hands and feet that made them understand that this art is far from technical, but a much more emotional and raw from of expressing yourself, of telling a story, of living the life. You can live a much more enriching life when you get in touch with your inner emotions, with your feelings and you can better communicate them when you understand them, and that is exactly what Chandramukhi was doing and what she was teaching others. Her dancing graced the viewers with emotions, with a narrative so strong that it would drive a message even to an ignorant person, with a technique so flawless and a confidence few possessed. With each step, each arm position and each perfectly balanced pose, it seemed like Nataraj itself was controlling her, taking over her body, and when she entered the Nataraj pose, the only difference between her and the idol behind her, was the fact that she was a living, breathing being and the other was a statue made of gold. Yet with all these moves, all this wisdom, all this emotion, the only thing that remained clearly haunting was the sound of her ghungroos, the strong clinked that echoed through the temple in times when the musicians would stop for split seconds, the sound that gave life to every step and emotion, the sound of a dance that blessed the viewers, the sound of life itself surrounding to the God of Destruction.
A group of rebelling teenagers was spending time in a secluded area, where they could drink and smoke in peace, covered by the darkness of the night. The group was big enough, 8 of them in total, all of them total jerks, the so-called bullies with no remorse for others, and ironic enough, they were the daughters and sons of the most influential people in the city. They were spoiled beyond measure and they always chose their next target carefully, to torment them and make their life a living hell.
-Hey have you heard the latest news? one of the boys said.
-The one about Anjali and Raj?
-No, but I do need to know that story. It was about Ganga. She seems to be rather angry after our last stunt with her hair.
-Oh, I’m so scared, what is she going to do? Cry about it? a girl from their group said ironically.
-It seems she wants to start a petition to get us out of the school. one boy said, giggling under his breath.
-Hah! She is so funny. I think she forgets who we are and who she is, just a middle class peasant. the girl continued.
-We need to put her in her place, she may be in need of a little beating, what are you saying guys? another girl barged in.
-I can’t agree more. But what is it about Raj and Anjali? the boy that started the talk asked again, curious.
-Apparently she got pregnant with his baby, and then later had an abortion without her parents knowing. another boy continued.
-Oh, this is so good, we can totally blackmail her. one of the girls said happily.
-Add to that the fact that we can make her do all the dirty work and then make her the guilty one. another one said.
-Uggh, these drugs are so weak! a boy that hasn’t spoken yet yelled angrily.
-They are like the strongest on the market. another one pointed out.
-Still weak.
-Well, I heard about a plant that is a very strong hallucinogenic. the boy continued.
-Where is it found? And how expensive it is?
-That is the thing, it is found near the Chandra Temple.
-The haunted one? one of the girls said a little scared.
-Oh, don’t tell me you are such a pussycat? Scared of some old legend? the boy said laughing.
-I don’t know, it just seems very real… And the stories, the killer ghost, I don’t think it’s a good idea.
-Oh, shut up, do you want those plants or not?
-Hell yeah let’s go! 3 other people exclaimed.
-Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I really don’t want to go. the girl insisted.
-C’mon, you’re with us. We’ll protect you, since it seems like this ghost has all freaked you out. the boy insisted.
-Yeah, dude, you’re gonna be fine, I promise. Then we can get high and forget this outburst of sudden rule following ever happened. another boy said.
-Fine, but it’s going to end badly, I swear it is going to end badly.
It was morning outside, and Simran, Rohan, Naina and Prem were drinking coffee at a small café, talking about their next project for school, sprinkled with some gossip and adding some personal stories and latest struggles that they dealt with. The 4 were friends for a long time, and they knew themselves better than anyone else, also they kind of grew up together, so they viewed themselves more as family rather than simply friends. It was usual for them to meet at a café at least once a week and catch up face to face, since they valued this kind of quality time, and they didn’t want to grow apart just because they didn’t make enough time for one another. As they talked, the current music program was stopped and breaking news followed.
“Breaking news dear viewers: 8 slaughtered victims were found near the Chandra Temple ruins. The authorities said that the bodies were badly disfigured and the people that live near the temple claimed to have heard screams and an eerie clinket. It is said that the 8 victims were all teenagers: 5 boys and 3 girls, all of them children of public persons. It is believed that this was a planned murder, the killers wanting to send a message to the higher-ups of the city. We will keep you posted with updates about the Chandra Temple tragedy. Until then, have a nice morning.”
-God, I’m so sorry for them. Prem said, moved by the news they just saw.
-Meh, I kinda have mixed feelings, I mean, they did treat me and Simran awfully when we were kids. They would always pick on us, but thank god we switched schools and escaped them since others were much more interesting to pick on. Naina responded unfazed.
-Yeah Naina’s right, I’m with her on this. Sure, it’s sad that they died, but I won’t miss them and their relentless teasing and bullying.
-Yeah, they were shitty people, but why did they die? Rohan questioned the other 3.
-What do you mean? Prem asked curiously. They were probably killed to send a message to the snobby shits that run this city.
-Are you so sure about that?
-Rohan, what are you on about? Simran said confused.
-Well, just think a little about it. The Chandra temple was dedicated to Shiva from what I remember. And what is Lord Shiva known for?
-For destroying the evil within oneself. she continued.
-And since they were mostly bad people…
-Rohan, do you really believe such nonsense? I mean this is so far fetched. Naina questioned the boy, a little taken aback.
-Yeah I know, but just, hear me out, don’t you think it’s weird that major crimes only happen in that part of the town, only at night, and only people that are bad happen to die there?
-Well, not only bad people, Mr Rahul died when he went to that place to study some plants, and he was a good man. He was always helping struggling children and was always keen to help homeless folks. Naina pointed out.
-Yeah you are right, but I don’t know. It just seems too suspicious. Everything seems to be too coordinated and the legends match. It’s just a hunch.
-Now that you are saying that, it seems weird that this keeps happening. And why would some killers only stay there and kill people. The city is huge, yet most of the killings happen there. And the police patrols the place there frequently in search of killers’ dens and not one weapon is found, and there are no other footsteps besides the victim’s. Prem said, as the sudden realisation dawned on him.
-Add to that the fact that most people claim to hear an eerie clinket every night. It seems weird. Too weird. Rohan continued.
-What do you plan to do? Simran asked curious.
-Well, I wanted to run my own little investigation, and I was wondering if you would join me?
-Yeah, of course, count me in. Prem said.
-Yeah, why not, you managed to convince me that murderers are a very unlikeable option so, I’m intrigued. Simran happily agreed.
-Do I have a choice?
-Not really. all three said.
-Ok, count me in too, but I don’t believe this legend explanation of what happened, I like the more realistic approach of this.