In the shimmering glow between sunset and moonlight, a traveller came walking along the eastern road. Seeing a huge crowd surrounding the inn, and hearing the loud clamour, he slowed down and then stopped. The dust covering his hair, face, clothes and thick on his legs up to the knees bore testimony to the fact that he had been walking the whole day long. In that deceptive light, he strained to see and hear the reason for such a large and noisy crowd. All he could hear clearly were the words of the bhikshu.

Leaving the road, he went towards the crowd that surrounded the inn. ‘Tell me, kind citizens of Sagal,’ he said addressing them, ‘has the investiture ceremony of Anshumala, the dancing girl of Mathurapuri, been performed? I have come a long way to see the ceremony. For a whole month I have been travelling as fast as I could. Kind folk, tell me, has there been any hindrance to her inauguration? I hope no harm has come to Anshumala.’

Only one person paid any attention to the traveller. ‘Uh, sculptor Marish? Which Anshumala are you talking about? … The Brahmin girl? … The great-granddaughter of the late Chief Justice?’

‘The same,’ Marish nodded his head.

‘It was Divya who desired to become the court dancer of Sagal,’ the citizen corrected Marish. ‘She has been disgraced by the caste society, and has left the town and taken shelter in this very inn. Are you …’

Not hearing the rest, the traveller went towards the door of the inn.

The bhikshu and the traveller were both trying to make their way through the crowd towards the inn gate.

‘Gentle folk, kind citizens,’ the traveller was saying, ‘allow me to go into the inn. I shall give solace to that unhappy woman. Citizens, let me pass. For her sake, I have come all the way from Shursen. I have arrived this very moment.’

The bhikshu too was saying, ‘Let me pass, citizens. I have come to take this oppressed woman into the bosom of the True Faith, so that she may know peace.’

The excited crowd was deaf to the words of the bhikshu, the traveller and also of the guard of the inn. The courtyard was so packed with people that no one was able to move. Suddenly, the sound of a gong was heard from the direction of the city gate, and a state official, standing on the rampart, shouted, ‘It is time to close the city gate. Those who have to go into the city should enter now.’

The human tide began to flow from the courtyard and through the doorway of the inn towards the city gate. Being unable to resist this stream, the traveller and the bhikshu retreated.

Just then a bugle sounded and the tumult subsided. The crowd fell silent and people stood where they were. Four torch-bearers on horseback emerged through the city gate. They were followed by a bugler on horseback. ‘Attention! Attention, citizens!’ shouted the bugler, ‘The Chairman of the Council, the Protector of the Faith, the Great Feudatory Chief, Rudradhir is arriving. Give way, citizens! Step aside!’