A Man of His Own (part 2)

"I copied this from grandfather's sketchbook."

The little girl's eyes shined involuntarily looking at the fair faced, brown eyed hero. "This is what a barbarian looks like?" she asked curiously.

"Uh-huh…I heard he's a great hero out there in the desert. He was still young when grandfather made this portrait and only married one wife yet," going closer naughtily, the little boy asked, "Fourth sister, shall I go see if he'll take you as a wife? Having a barbarian for a husband…that should be unique…"

"You pig!" his sister shouted intensely, "Who wants to marry a barbarian!"

The little girl decisively stamped his foot, not caring that they were on precarious footing at a great elevation.

Laughing non-stop, her little brother caught her tightly and moved them up onto a more secure place even as she thrashed and complained in his arms. The wind fluttered harshly around them, flapping their light summer clothes noisily. Their hair beat across their lively faces and caught the desert sand.

"And then, after that near-death experience, grandfather still didn't come home. He went further north instead, crossing the mainland's end and entered a whole new land…" the boy gently narrated, his elder sister seated in his lap. The spot he chose was a little small this time, so they had to scooch together. The boy thought it was safer to put his small elder sister where he could protect her from the wind.

"And is this land where men and women looked alike?" she asked, breathing heavily. She had long been enraptured by her brother's narrations.

The boy nodded. "Indeed. Here, all men looked a little feminine. All women looked a…little masculine. Don't misunderstand. They were still pretty as flowers. But their bodies were a little flat. Their movements were a little rigid. Also, because the men were a little feminine, grandfather said it was often hard to distinguish the two. Only a long while later did he find out he was meant to look at the hairstyles to distinguish them apart."

"But little brother, can't he just look here?" she slapped her brother's exposed chest with her small hand.

"No, that was a cold country. Everybody wore layers upon layers. The styles were more or less similar, at least to an outsider's eye. Only the most feminine women and the most masculine men could be told apart."

Little Varunapriya knit her eyebrows tightly. "Brother, I can't imagine it," she said in the end.

"I know. I couldn't either. Grandfather said, theirs was a rage-unknown type culture, with many rigid structures strictly defining social hierarchy. So everyone follows strict etiquette. Everything down to the smallest actions is rehearsed and follows a certain pattern. That is why men and women look the same on the outset. It's because they act the same! Everyone follows the same motion…like yantras (machines)."

"And what else is notable about this rage-unknown type culture?"

"In rage-unknown type cultures, when rage and fear mixes, it gives rise to elaborate laws, rigorous and strict hierarchies and so on. When rage and confusion get together as primary emotions, they are in turn channeled into fervid curiosity to explore and experiment. The 'Voyagers' I told you about are also this type of culture. They have a systematic hierarchy among them which makes them great traders who go all across the world. What they are curious and what they are passionate to explore is the great earth itself. On the other hand, the Haki culture I just spoke about explore their own bodies!"

"Their own bodies?" the girl asked, wide-eyed.

"Indeed, the Haki culture is very systematic about their body. Sometimes, the emperor himself sends the people decrees about how they should manage their body's nutrition."

"No way, they can't be that silly!" his sister giggled.

"I'm not joking. And I think it's a great idea for a ruler to be mindful of his citizens' health."

"But not to that extent that he will tell me how many naans I must eat for breakfast!"

"True. Anyway, the Hakis are something like that. They study everything about the body…Every single thing. Grandfather says they have uncovered some great secrets that remain unfathomable to us."

"Well, there is nothing the great sages do not know…" Varunapriya was against his brother exaggerating, "It's just that they don't spread around what they know to everyone."

"Right. Because that's not our culture. But theirs is. Everyone is mindful of their bodies because the body is very widely studied. The body is worshipped in a way…" Little Vajradandaka mused, "They don't have any widespread gods as such. Just some regional ones that emerge in legend here and there."

"Well…" Varunapriya wasn't that interested in a culture with feminine looking men. "Tell me about the one with all the heroes. Is it true they travel all over the land? Will they come to Rtadhara?"

Seeing her brother laugh, she chided, "Come on, it's not for me! You know I can make Agni or big sister drool by exaggerating these stories. Then you can come and watch the fun too!"

"Shut up! Kekeke! I'm not taking part in these evil plans of yours!"

In the end, brother and sisters cooked up the tales of two heroic lads who had the strength of elephants and the elegance of jaguars. Then they made detailed charts of their heroic journeys from the southern mountain valleys which was their homeland, to the northern highlands and down again to eastern prairies and all the way to the western drylands! They also created an imaginary rumor about these imaginary heroes that these two handsome men who were without peer, have conquered all but a woman's heart. They have never found a fair maiden in all the lands who could take their breath away. Consequently, it was also the reason they have come to the drylands because they heard the princesses of this land were the fairest of all!

Giggling and chuckling to each other, the duo of brother and sister were startled when it suddenly started raining. Rain in the drylands, especially during summer, was not entirely a pleasant affair. Especially not if you're stranded on a rooftop carved ornately from stone, with not a single steady place to plant your feet. The billowing winds were stormy and unrelenting, frightening the two children, but they kept quiet nevertheless.

They did not scream, they did not cry out for help. They knew that doing so would cause an incident and all the guards will be punished. As a respectable prince and princess of Rtadhara, they could not behave in such an irresponsible way. They could only be brave and allow the storm to pass.

"Vaju, what if we fall down?" the princess moaned quietly in the chilly rain, hugging her brother tightly.

"Varu, this perch is quite stable, don't worry. I will lay down my life before I let you get hurt," the boy imitated his big brother, saying.

"Mmn." Shivering in her brother's strong arms, the little girl asked, "Vaju, next time, don't come up here, okay?"

Looking into the blurry rain, the boy didn't reply. His face was hard.

"Promise me," she whispered fearfully.

There was only silence and the sound of rain for a long while.