But the king cut him off. “Sthanu, you don’t have to say anything. Just listen to me. You see, roses have a particular smell. And jasmine has its own fragrance. Mullai has a totally different scent. I knew that there were different kinds of fragrances, and I have experienced many as well. But while I knew that, I had assumed until today that all bad smells were of the same kind! If I stay shut up in the palace all the time, how could I expect to know how my country smelled? If my palace smelled wonderful, did that automatically mean my kingdom smelled wonderful too? Please thank this tahsildar on my behalf. What a variety of smells he has introduced to me!” The maharaja laughed thunderously as he said this, but his face and eyes grew red.

The two men stepped outside. Neither of them could say with certainty whether the king’s words had been reassuring or ominous.

They found out the next morning. The order came straight from the king: Muthamperumal was given the sack.

Poor Muthamperumal! What could he have done? He had arranged everything perfectly. He had not had a proper night’s sleep in three months. He had even lost ten pounds. Despite all that, he still lost his job. What could he have done in the face of nature’s mischief?

Who could have predicted that the tamarind pond would become the reason for all this chaos? When they flooded the ponds in the region with fresh water, how did they overlook the tamarind pond? Did they assume that the pond had nothing to do with the king’s visit? Did they overlook it because it was nowhere near the main road? Was it ignored because it kept to itself? It might be an old pond, but it was still a pond, no? The water was filthy, but it was water nevertheless, wasn’t it?

But they had indeed ignored the stagnant cesspool that was the tamarind pond. The water in it was filthy: its surface covered with moss, sludge and slime in its depths, human waste scattered all around it. It had been the source of the stench and had played its ominous part in the maharaja’s visit. Everyone conceded that even an old pond had a few powers of its own. A mere fetid pool had managed to drive away the king. And Muthamperumal’s livelihood had been sacrificed to its wrath.

The next day, all everybody could talk about was the emergency resolution issued by the maharaja. Apparently, His Highness had arrived at this decision when he was in Kanyakumari. In the temple, in front of the deity! He declared that on his way back a week later, he would travel right by the tamarind pond. So they only had a week—just seven days—to fix the pond.