The War with Destiny

1

Odysseus looked gloomily at the blazing remains of Troy. Monstrous clouds of smoke had enveloped the western horizon. Wherever he ran his misty gaze he found dead bodies of the soldiers and horses lay scattered below the gloomy sky. Never ever in his life he had seen such an ugly dance of death. Wasn’t he too had participated this fierce battle, fighting shoulder to shoulder with his fellow warriors to intimidate Troy? Now the war was over. Meneleus had his wife, Helen, back; Agamemnon and his soldiers had set sail a week ago to their homelands. Now Odysseus too had to leave for Ithaca, but he was stranded because there were no sailable ships left.
He was sitting on a boulder, looking again and again at the remnants of the once impregnable walls of Troy. His heart was filled with an unknown abyss. He cursed the day he had agreed to join in this war. He cursed the ego of the Greeks that had brought such disaster and dishonor on a civilization. His mind was a pyre of self- torture. A deep compassion now had wiped out initial euphoria of the victory. Why had we fought with all this craziness for ten years, for that poisonous creeper-Helen? True that the Greeks had exacted their revenge and won back their lost honour, but was the victory untainted? So many warriors had landed on this island to breathe their last. Only a few could escape death to celebrate the victory.
But has it brought real happiness? No. Destiny has played its ugly game with the Greeks. There is nothing to get intoxicated over this victory. Yes, we have won, but it has rewarded me with shame.

The sun was about to set behind the thick curtain of smoke. The gloom of dusk had cast its shadow on the earth. The sea-beast was heaving in unrest as if wounded. His soldiers were still on the hunt for valuables over the dead bodies that lay scattered across the battleground. They were snarling, fighting with each other and would laugh raucously when they found something. They must be stopped at once, thought Odysseus, but it seemed impossible for he felt he had lost his command over them. The sins didn’t seemed to have reached their nether. The fall for humanity wasn’t yet complete.
Odysseus knelt on the rugged ground and spreading his hands towards the sky he muttered helplessly, “O Lord Zeus, God of Olympians, why don’t you stop this craziness now? Haven’t you had enough amusement over the destruction of human soul? What disgrace of humanity do you think these people have not yet caused? I know I too have sinned. I deserve to be condemned and suffer in Tartauras. Yes, you may punish me with whatever severity you can.
“But please, let not, O Lord, add these men more sins to the heaps of sins already committed.” His voice was choked as he spoke to the vastness and his face an epic of human compassion, as if now all his ambitions were extinguished under the mounting waves of repentance.
Suddenly, a voice broke into the emerging waves of passions.
“O brave Odysseus, you are crying?”
It was Polymus, his friend and a man of infinite valour. Odysseus hastily dried his eyes and gathering remains of his scattered soul, he looked at Polymus. But his face contorted with agonies, betrayed him.
“What is this brave Odysseus? Why are you sitting in loneliness under the evening sky?” Asked his friend.
“This is enough Polymus.” Said Odysseus in heavy voice. “All the Greeks have gone back to their lands. We too must go back now. I cannot tolerate this destruction anymore. I feel suffocated here. The heaps of heinous acts are mounting. This land smells of only death. The war cries of valiant soldiers and hoof beats of horses no longer resound here. We must go back to our lands where our loved ones are waiting for us. I wish I were back in my people under the shining sun and in the fresh air. I wish to go back to Ithaca.” And he heaved a sigh, as if the lush green lands of Ithaca had appeared live before his eyes.
“Odysseus, you know that the ships Greeks left for us are all dilapidated, that only will sink us. We cannot dare sail these ships in the sea. The chances are that instead of seeing our homeland again we may be resting at the bottom of the sea, and God Poseidon will be too happy to welcome us in his domain!”
Odysseus knew and that was the reason he had delayed his voyage but still he asked, “Then what do we do?”
“I am afraid Odysseus we would never return. No Trojan is alive. All the Greeks have gone back. We are left with a few soldiers who are ignorant in shipbuilding and repairing. Unless some fleet of traders crosses this island, we are imprisoned here. The Greeks have taken all the sailable ships Odysseus and what we are left with are worthless for sail.”
“But we cannot wait for any fleet to cross this sea.” Said Odysseus trying to focus on the immediate problem, “The news of Troy’s destruction must have spread everywhere. No one will dare come here, Polymus. Let us not blame the Greeks, for they too have sailed on the broken ships. Let us build another ship or a raft that can fight the might of the sea.”
Polymus looked at Odysseus in askance.
“Thinking of building a ship is insane, that wouldn’t be easy task. Why do we not try to repair one of the ships, which is in better condition? That will be easier and faster.”
“No use in attempting repairs, Polymus. I know our fleet is battered as it is fighting with the savage waters for last ten years and we never had time to look after them. I know little about shipbuilding. We can build something that can take us safely to Ithaca.
“Now tell these wicked fools to stop robbing the dead. Haven’t they had enough of this greediness? Can’t they still fathom the gravity of the destruction they just witnessed and learn a lesson? Why their greed still not quenched?”
Polymus glanced at the Ithacians who still roamed wolfishly among the stinking dead bodies in search of valuables. This had been their routine for the last few days. Letting out a sigh he said, “How can we blame them now, Odysseus? They have been away from their families, their country and loved ones under the shadow of death, struggling for victory. True, that they have seen morals and justice raped before their own eyes. They have witnessed their friends falling in the battle. Now the frenzy of war is over. We have won the war. Everyone has got something in return for his participation in this sin. Agamemnon preserved the dignity and pride of Greece. Meneleus has won his wife back. The strongest city of Troy, unconquerable even by the gods has been destroyed. The valor and perseverance of the Greeks is echoing in the world with its fame. But what did these soldiers gain in return for risking their lives? Odysseus, unless you had employed your might and ingenuity, could the verdict of victory have favored the Greeks?
“The wooden hollow horse was your idea. You had dared to hide inside risking your life. Why, what if the Trojans had decided to burn that toy instead of taking it in the city so triumphantly? Or what if they had chosen to throw that horse in the raging waters of the sea from above the cliff?”
“And what have you received in turn? An old, boastful woman - that Hacabe, the queen of Priam - as reward? Ha! I pity you, O brave and ingenious Odysseus! What if they had offered you that blossoming Cassandra and not that old scum? You achieved the victory and you had to chew stale meat while they celebrated with young flesh!
“Let these soldiers quench their thirst till they hope to grab something! You know, brave Odysseus, woman, land and wealth are the rewards of the war. Isn’t that victory impotent, which yields nothing?”
Odysseus looked at the darkening corners of the horizon, mocked at by the leaping fires from the blazing Troy, with a heavy heart. “I must go back. I long for Penelope and my son Telemachus. We must get back. Let us abandon this cursed land at once and reach the sacred coasts of our homelands. Here I am chilled with the wintry laugh of death. Look at that leaping fire and the smoke that is tainting the skies with its ugly touch. The fire and smoke reminds me of Tartauras. My fearless mind trembles with an unknown fear at this sight.
“Do you know that until recently, dignity and cheer breathed in this destroyed city? It was adorned by unparallel beauty and wealth? King Priam and his queen Hacabe, his son Paris, his daughter, the unfortunate Cassandra and that treasure of beauty, Helen, were a part of this famed city. What we have now are the images of the wonderful past. No life will ever sprout here for centuries to come. Now, I can only hear the melancholic outcry of the wandering souls and their tragic songs. No cheer of life can I hear, though I am dying for it.
“And you know Polymus I am responsible for this destruction. Alas, I, in my frenzies, invented the idea of the wooden horse. If I had been in my right senses, I shouldn’t have mouthed that wicked concept. The city would have been intact. Cassandra wouldn’t have been disgraced. Hacabe wouldn’t have become mad. King Priam could have preserved his pride. At the most, for another few years the Greeks would have tried to break the strong walls of Troy and eventually failing to do so would have gone back. May be they would have been defamed for defeat, but my friend, this destruction wouldn’t have taken place. But …
“Life is very precious and everything else is petty before the eternal song of life, but how late it is now to have this realisation. True that we have marked our victory, but it is not unblemished. Why was I destined to do this? Why did I behave in such a crazy manner?”
Once again his voice was choked as he spoke. His body shuddered with the outburst of his feelings.
Polymus compassionately touched his shoulder and said, “Aren’t we just pawns in the hands of destiny? Do not weep O mighty Odysseus for it is destiny that has played this ugly game. It has forced us to perform the deeds we wouldn’t have performed in our right mind.”
But the soothing words of Polymus didn’t kindle any hope in the tortured mind of Odysseus. His heart kept on lamenting. He got up and turning his back at Polymus, advanced towards the shore. The wind was crashing against his tall and strong body. The sea was roaring with a frightening sound. The acrid smell of the burning Troy was overpowering the atmosphere. The sky was streamed with the umpteen stars, dimly lighting the vast expanse of the sea. The waves seemed angry against the rocky shore as they crashed against it with all their might. The island seemed in the clutches of gloom and frustration. Intolerable chaos of the tormented souls and their intense cries overpowered the night on that deserted island.
Odysseus stood on a rock, catching the showers of the waves. The sea looked like a huge monster, and as if challenging him, “May be, O brave Odysseus, you intimidated Troy, but remember now you have me to fight with!”
Odysseus didn’t listen to the threats of the sea god. His entire being was furled in a vast drop of tear and he was drowned in it.
So unable he was to decipher the meaning of the sorrow he was suffering. He didn’t know why, over and over again, a storm of unknown pains was raging within him. He even didn’t know why he had chosen to join this destructive war. He was in mourning.
Yes. He was cursing himself for his disregard for the life. He was cursing his frenzies that had sailed him in this madness for last ten years.
Destiny, he muttered, is too powerful than human persistence. It sails human being wherever it desires, and forces him to commit inhuman acts.
If not, how could the brave Ajax have dared to drag Cassandra in the temple of Athena and rape her? Didn’t he know the rage of gods? And I, a man of wisdom, didn’t rape Queen Hacabe in my euphoria, even when she was protesting and cursing and clawing? What frenzy was it after all? Why was the beautiful Polixina was sacrificed on the tomb of the brave Achilles with all the cruelty and lowliness? Why? Only because all the wise men thought he, Estainimex, the son of Hectar, should not stand strong when young to attempt revenge, so behead him? Why did Agamemnon order to kill Polydos, the son of king Priam, who was away and safe in Iliana, for no reason or rhyme?
What did we gain by accelerating the chain of heinous deeds for the last ten years? Nothing. All great warriors have been slain. Most of the army is now resting in the kingdom of Hades. The sins have reached the nether, that too for a roguish woman? Where the senses and wisdom of the so-called mighty Greeks had gone when they thought she was the honour of the Greeks and the Trojans culprits? Was I mad too to wage this futile war and lose valuable ten years of my precious life?
All gods are decidedly against me. To whom should I show my face bearing hollow pride? What courage have I displayed to boast of? My might and wisdom have resulted in nothing but a bubble!


Odysseus, a man of wisdom and infinite courage lamented on his misfortune and folly. But of what use was it now? Everything that was destined had happened. What was left was the collapsed walls of Troy and the blazing city and writhing of the agonized souls, and the sea that posed another threat and a will of the mortal Odysseus.


It was almost midnight when Odysseus returned to himself from the infinite destinations he had strayed to in his agonies. He felt emaciated. He rubbed his face and mused, I must get back to Penelope, my dear wife and son Telemacus. I must be in the lush green farms and tend to the grape creepers under the shining sun. I must work to prepare the best of wines to serve my guests. I must look after my cattle and breed the best horses. I must help solve the problems of my citizens. I wish I were in the fertile land of my country and sitting on the hilltop listening to the heartrending songs of shepherds. I have seen the setting of life in all its cruelty. Now I wish to see the sprouting of life.
He got up, took a last look at the shimmering sea under the star-studded night and said in all humility, “O Lord Poseidon, master of the infinite vastness of the sea, I pray to you. Forgive me for my impudence and insolence. Allow me to row to my country on your vast chest to start my life anew with wisdom.”
Who knows whether God Poseidon listened to his prayers or not. The sea grumbled its vicious desires. But his friend Polymus had certainly heard him. He too was in a distress. The aftereffects of the all-annihilating war were now haunting his soul. The storm of violence that had raged within him till recently was now about to recede. A gloom had begun capturing his heart too and the futility of all the endless efforts was drowning him. Now he was realising that the human race he was a part of, had descended to the lowest levels for a debauch woman who never could boast of morals. Why this endeavoring had forced all the great warriors in a paltry act?
He had no answer.
He touched the shoulders of the towering man with deep compassion and with an outburst of emotions said, “Dear friend, let us get back to the camp, for the night is ripe. I cannot tolerate to see you in muted agonies. O brave, whatever happened was no fault of yours. It was the world that had reached the cliff of self-destruction. What were we supposed to do when it was so inevitable? What could one mortal soul do when faced with the inevitable? What can one mortal soul do when the gods in heaven keep on sowing the destructive seed of strife in our hearts? Whom should we blame when its Gods that desire destruction? Come on, think that it was a nightmare and awake to the sound of a new, pleasant dawn! Yes, we must go back. May be, the company of our own people would bring eternal peace to our souls.”
Odysseus didn’t say anything. The soft words of Polymus made him more distressed. Like a pregnant cloud, he became heavy. Holding the hand of Polymus he in a heavy pace treaded his way back to their tent.







2

The sun was ripe and the trees rustled on the playful tunes of wind. The vultures were hungrily eating the dead. Their noise and flutter of wings and the grating sound of breaking bones ruled the atmosphere. The soldiers of Odysseus were busy cutting the tall cedars. There prevailed no enthusiasm but strife owing to the inevitable need. Death had shadowed the earth and they had to fight it out to survive!
The logs were moved to the shore. Odysseus would inspect whether he had the right size of logs. They collected strong creepers, which were abundant at the seashore, to replace the ropes. It would take several days or even weeks before they had constructed a sailable raft.
“We shall never be able to go back,” muttered a frustrated soldier, wiping the streams of sweat off his forehead. “The raft made of these logs can never sail us too for. Better to live here than to attempt sailing and drowning in the sea- ”
He had expressed the unrest that had gathered in everyone’s heart.
“Greedy Greeks stole the good ships and left us here to die of hunger and frustration among the dead. What did we get for our struggle? Neither gold nor women. What did we get, I ask?”
“Oh. They all are bastards. They wish we die here but we shall not die. We need to go back, all right, but this Odysseus is a crazy man. He has lost all his wits since the day he heard the mindless cries of that whore, Hacabe. They say the Greeks outsmarted him. Whatsoever, we must find a way to go back-”
The discontent of his soldiers was not hidden from Odysseus. He summoned a meeting and addressed them in his convincing voice.
“I know all of you are worried whether you would reach your homeland or not. You are scared… the mighty soldiers of Odysseus are scared whether the ship we have undertaken to construct will take us back or not. Your wisdom and valour seems to have rundown, for you have been living among the dead for a while, and the dead have cast their spell over you. I implore you to defeat these mental depressions and smile with courage, for only that can save you.
“Let us build this ship. I assure you that we will take first stop at the island of Sicons. You know how rich the island is with all its diamonds and pearls. The Sicons are dumb enough not to understand the importance of the wealth they possess. Let us attack them first in order to gain the reward for your endless toil of ten years. Let us go there to enjoy their women. Let us rob the Sicons off their best fleet and set sail towards our people who are waiting for us for a long time with anxious heart and tears in their eyes. When they see you alive and loaded with wealth, imagine how happy they would be.
“This smoldering Troy now has nothing to offer you now. Let the vultures satiate their hunger of rotting flesh and let us head for the fabulous enjoyments that lay ahead. Let us compensate our lost ten years by robbing the Sicons. Let us work hard and build a ship that can take us safely to that island where destiny is beckoning us. Let us wipe all the doubts and confusion and make our head as dot-less as the sky in winter.”
Odysseus’s speech cleared the ugly mist that had gathered on their souls. Their hopes rejuvenated in a new zeal and they yelled-
“Gold… yes we must have gold and emeralds that are precious and shine like the morning sun. Yes. Let us have it… let us rob the Sicons and march to our women and children…”
The roar was defeating the crescendo of the crashing sea waves and the north-east wind. Odysseus raised his hands in a paternal smile.
“Let us get back to work,” he said in a deep voice and soon the excited soldiers made their way towards the woods.
Odysseus sat back on the rock and drowned in his own thoughts.
Polymus was standing beside him. He was confused. He failed to understand the actions of his king.
“Are we truly going to attack the Sicons and rob them?”
Odysseus glanced at him thoughtfully and said, “Do we have a choice? Every action of man is commanded by greed. Hopes take him ahead with new hopes ever growing. They were hopeless out here losing their courage to live. Courage is an outcome of strong faith in the future and I had to reinstate that faith and courage and hopes. They are brave and have sacrificed their youth for a vain revenge. True, as you had said last night, unless they gain something in return for trading their time and soul, they will turn treacherous against us.
“And tell me, is robbing those who do not know the value of their possessions, a sin? I do not think so. Those who do not understand the meaning of the wealth they possess and who search their amusements elsewhere are destined to be attacked and ruled. This is an unwritten law of life. The Sicons have wealth and they treat it as mere articles for children’s games. They have abundant wealth that may be the reason why they treat it like stones and pebbles, as we do back home.”
“But I have heard that the Sicons are dangerous. They might prove another disaster for us.” said Polymus worriedly.
“True, they are the worst force to confront with. But we are cultured people with brains in our head. I too have heard that they do not allow any other race to step on their shores. True, that they are barbarians and cruel. But you see, here I am, Odysseus, the wisest of the men that ever lived on this earth. They say this in my praise, and I shall stand up to their praise. Do not worry. Our men must get something they deserve. The Sicons fight for food. We here are fighting for gold and emeralds, which is useless to them. One must know the enemy’s way of life before one decides to attack him. I know their traits and so I shall take every care not to invite a confrontation, and get what our people wish.”
Still Polymus was not convinced. He kept on looking at his leader in doubt. Odysseus sat still, as if ready to drown in his own miseries. But Polymus pulled him back.
“All right, Odysseus if you are determined. But my heart still is uneasy. Whenever I remember the prophecy of Apollo my heart sinks with fear. Destiny already has vowed against us. The sky is full of bad omens and the sea-waves seem to challenge us. I am disturbed, Odysseus.”
Odysseus considered the fear of Polymus for a moment and said, “I have not forgotten the curse. Neither the prophesy of Apollo. I remember every word of it as it is etched on my heart. He had said that it would take more than twenty years before I could return to Ithaca. During the voyage, he said, I would have to suffer infinite pain and labors. He said that I would have to walk through the vales of indignation and humiliation. He had said that all the deities would be against the Greeks.
“But see, Polymus, we have won this battle. We have destroyed a city that was protected by half of the Olympian gods. We are human beings and have succeeded in outsmarting the gods and their curses and their prophecies.
“And so I promise you, we shall defeat the prophesy of Apollo too and the curse of the sea- god, Poseidon and soon reach our homeland safe and happy.”
Polymus said, “No one ever have won against the wishes of gods. Everybody is humbled by destiny and has to undergo whatever destiny has in store for him. Don’t ever forget, Odysseus, even gods have to bow before destiny, and we are mortals!”
Odysseus got up and holding his friend’s hand, smiled in assurance.
“Polymus, it is true that the victory we claim over the city that is now a smoldering remain, is in a way our defeat. Our ambitions have been defeated and we have given a way for the disasters to fall upon us tomorrow. But is it the destiny that will be ruling our tomorrow too? Did really was it destiny that ruled our souls and led us to commit the heinous crimes that we committed? No. If it was destiny then I challenge it with all my might. I promise you, my friend, I shall take all my colleagues safely to Ithaca. I shall offer them all the wealth that I can, during this voyage to a new life.”
Saying so, Odysseus turned towards the raging sea and lifting his head high towards the azure sky, which was ablaze with the afternoon-sun, and raising his hands said aloud,
“O Olympian gods that live in luxuries,
Commanding human life
Is a game for you
Listen to me…

I am a weak man with mountainous
Courage secured in my heart
And you are the powerful gods
Commanding nature and the
Beings that live under your rule.

But I challenge you
I shall go back to my country
Among my people who I think love me
With their soul and heart.
I shall go back carrying
The fabulous life and infinite wealth

As Odysseus finished his vow, Polymus’ face grew darker with fear. He trembled and prayed, “O Almighty Zeus, King of gods, forgive his insolence for he certainly is out of his mind. The desperate ten years and desertion on this island has robbed him of his wits. Forgive him, O Lord. Perhaps his ego over his wisdom is overpowering him, for it were his wits that brought victory to the Greeks. Forgive him, for he is not in his right mind.”
Odysseus was intently watching his face contorted with fear and the shiver on Polymus’ lips. He understood what was storming in his mind. He put his hand over Polymus’ shoulder and said in a mild voice,
“Friend, there was a time when I too used to be scared with the onslaught of destiny and curses of the gods. My deep faith in them was always bringing alertness in me so as not to infuriate them with my deeds.
“I was ruling a part of the world while tending to my farms and my cattle. I was not ready to join this mission to wage a war against the Trojans and destroy them. I too am a human being having all the strengths and weakness of a mortal. I joined this war because of an overpowering desire in me. But that desire now has abandoned me like a whore to a pauper.
“Look at this smoldering city of Troy. Try to listen to the curses of the dumbfounded souls and their agonized outcries, wandering in this roaring wind all around us. Try to listen to the wail of the unfortunate Cassandra while she was being raped. Try to listen to the maddening cry of queen Hacabe when I was in a frenzy consuming her and her hysteric laugh when she went crazy. Try to listen to the last waning moans of the soldiers when the swords and arrows were being plunged in their bodies.
“Those who made human life lusterless, claims to be Gods and I, Odysseus say, they have no right to play with human dignity.”
There was silence for some time except for the outrageous roar of the sea, wind and the enthused soldiers. Then suddenly Polymus said,
“But you are responsible for this destructions. Hadn’t it been for your inventing an idea of the wooden horse there wouldn’t be this destruction. The city would be safe and so would the souls living inside the walls.”
“True-” agreed Odysseus in his lamenting voice.
“And yet how you can plan attack on the virgin land of Sicons, you sanctimonious Odysseus?”
His very words infuriated Odysseus. He turned his huge self towards Polymus and roared,
“I would have punished you with death for your impudence, Polymus, but for our friendship. Never think that all the attacks are violent. Never think all the ambitions are stained with sins. I just wish to boost the morale of my men. I must provide them with happiness and a sense of contentment.”
Polymus was speechless at the outrage of his king. The sun was stepping down on the western sky. The acrid smell of the burning flesh and putrefied bodies became intense. The land of Troy was asking for the ever-forgiving darkness. The sea was in its endless efforts to humble the tall wall of rocks that obstructed its way. As if entire nature was heaving in enraged sighs. There was silence, as if no human being inhibited that land of death. Odysseus glanced at the outraged sea and in his uncertain mind he stepped ahead but then on a sudden change, he turned and without looking at Polymus headed towards the burning remains of Troy. When he found he was all alone amidst the destruction by destiny, he bent his head in repentance.



It took another week for them to build a sailable ship that did not give a sense of confidence and assurance. However, they knew that they had no choice but to risk their life in the quest of survival. The sea was in its most unpleasant mood, as if it had vowed not to allow any insignificant existence to launch a voyage on its chest.
But the determination of Odysseus was indomitable. In his every word reflected an urge and strength and assurance. He had succeeded in painting a glamorous picture of great possibilities on their return voyage. He succeeded in lighting the torch of hopes in every one’s heart. Now the ship was ready and moving up and down with the forces of sea-waves, safe and secure.

A storm raged in the night, making all the directions look dark and vicious. The enraged sea with its huge waves attacked the shore and terrified every soul that was still alive on that island. The hopes of a bright tomorrow seemed to submerge in the deep ravines of the sea, with depression and frustration dawning on them.
“It is impossible, Odysseus that we ever can sail-”
“Let us wait. Be patient. I have seen many storms, more vicious than this one. I am sure it will calm down soon and a bright sunlight will allow us an easy sail.”
“No Odysseus, this storm never would cease. All these are bad omens written on every horizon. Look at this dark wind and the terrified seagulls. This is not a sign of storm receding in a short time. Destiny does not wish that we go back. Let us bow before it and find a way to make this island our haven. Let us abandon this stubbornness.”
Odysseus looked at all the scared faces and mustering whatever courage was left in him, he said,
“If we are not committed, then should we give up all the efforts and live in this barren world where only death haunts? Do you really think that living back here will ever satisfy your greed and hopes? If you ever were determined to live here, why were you robbing the dead with such cruelties? I know you want to go back in a society where you could use the wealth you have robbed off the dead. You know there is no more promise in this land for you. And still you are frightened at the rage of nature. You are scared for your life for you have lost all your courage.
“Let me tell you my beloved ones, that this enraged Poseidon cannot snarl its rage for long. His tumult will cease. My strength will be far more powerful than the will of this curse of gods. I know my patience is going to defeat the outrage of gods.
“You know that God Apollo had prophesied and Poseidon had cursed that I shall suffer enmities of the gods on my return. But that prophecy was against me and not you. As long as I live, I shall show you the true and secure path in the light of my soul. If at all I am destined to fail, it is my destiny, not yours. Then why should you think of me?
“You need wealth. You want to amuse yourself, you want your lusts to be quenched. I am here to guide you.
“May be, among you there are people who think eliminating me will bring happiness. I know your hearts are full of mutiny. But when a man like me has sustained the fierce war for ten years and who has written the verses of victory, how can you dare to kill me and take over? And if at all you kill me, what you are going to do? Live on this barren island where vultures and curses of the dead rule?
“I do not think you are that foolish. I know you need a safe passage and so do I. I too desperately want to see my beloved people and my dearest son Telemacus. I am a patient man when time is against me and so do I implore you to be.
“If at all you chose to be here, you surely can. But I am going to sail this ship with my whole might and when I reach the bright shores of Ithaca where everybody is waiting, I shall tell them that their love for you was too weak to pull them back to you.
“Look at me. I have been lifting the burdens of everybody’s sins for years, and so I will lift your sins on my shoulders. I will forgive you for your treacheries and your unrest.
“But do you wish that when I go back alone I should tell your families that their thread of love was so weak that it could not pull you to them, even when the opportunity presented itself. I will certainly tell them that you were so obsessed with life that you forgot to look at life. I am going to tell them that they loved the people who had no trust in eternal love. I will tell them that you were bound by your selfish interests and not to the families. I will tell them that the men you bade farewell to, in a hope that they will prove valorous, were cowards in fact. I will tell them all the facts when I am back among our people.”
The torturing words of Odysseus stunned the audience. They yelled,
“No, king Odysseus, we are no cowards, for we too have witnessed the frenzied dance of death. And our bond of love to our people is stronger than your wits.”
On this Odysseus paused and when he found his charm was gripping, he said,
“Then let us be patient. Let the enraged weather calm down. Then we should start our voyage to etch the words of our courage on the blank pages of the future.”
3

With her intoxicating eyes, Clietimnestra looked at Egysthus placing her hand on his broad chest. Clietemnestra’s naked body was an epitome of feminine splendor. Egysthus fondled her soft breasts and the curves on her smooth body with the eagerness of a hungry beast. His kisses were like the shower of a thirsty monsoon, infuriating her lust that was about to explode. She wanted him in her. She was blind in her urge while responding to his touches with a wild passion. Her sighs were resonating in that huge bedroom. The naked body of Egysthus was now dipping over her, while observing her form that was on fire. He licked her body, caressed her lustily and in his wild excitement igniting it manifolds in her body. The moments of lusty starvation were exquisite… what if both could prolong it to eternity?
But now they could not bear the mounting tension. He entered her with his might to make her cry in excitation. The warmth of her body put Egysthus on flames and like a tornado he growled in and over her body. Soon their bodies were drenched with sweat. Their shrieks, cries, moans and demanding ruled the chamber for a long time. Their reflections were dancing in the mirrors that decorated the walls. As if the entire universe had ceased to exist for that romancing couple.
Gradually the tension was released. The density of the moans was now thinned. And in a sudden explosion, both sighed simultaneously to climax. With a satiated desire they lay in embrace, on the bed, lost in the mist of contentment.
After a while, she pushed Egysthus’s head, which was resting on her sweat-beaded breasts. His desires still ruled him and he tried to hold her in his arms. He protested her sudden detachment but now she seemed firm in her resolve. She stepped towards the bathroom walking over the smooth carpeted floor. The touch of the warm water felt like an embrace of pleasantness. For a few moments, she was drifted above in the realms of clouds.
Then she forced her mind back to the stark realities that lay ahead.
And the realities weren’t pleasant.
It was those ten long years that had passed like a flash of lightening. And yet her husband Agamemnon had not returned from Troy. She didn’t know as yet what was the outcome of the war. Still the fire on the mount Eda was not lit to announce victory in the war. Were they losing the war? Will he ever come back to Miocene to resume his rule? Are Greeks winning or losing the battle?
Is Agamemnon still alive? She didn’t know. For her it was a must that Agamemnon survives the war and comes back safe. If not, what is she going to do of that brewing storm of hatred and vengeance that she had kept buried in her heart for years?
True, she had lived a cursed life. The life she had desired never had been blessed to her. She had accepted the life the way it had come to her. But now, she had seen enough of it. A young girl, who could wait for her beloved once upon a time, was swallowed by the cruel fate. The valuable years had elapsed to make her think and scheme. Bonds of past had been ruined. Personal tragedies had taken over her frustrated soul. It is always time that either forces one to surrender or asks for mutiny.
True, with Egysthus she had gained the losing battle over life. He had reminded her of her tragedies and strengths. But so late it was, now when the doomsday was looming over her. Now she could not lose Egysthus, though she hated him with her every breath, except for the moments of lusts in his arms. Anyhow, she had to punish Agamemnon for his sins. He may have been her husband and king, he deserved death…he must die…the kingdom of Miocene should be ruled by her and Egysthus in the future.
The resolve strengthened her. She dried her body, wore the fresh royal garb and entered the bedroom again.
Sprawling naked over the bed, Egysthus was now desperately waiting for her. On his face was a heaviness of fulfillment that comes after blissful climax. Now he looked with wide-open eyes at the empress of beauty, Clietimnestra walking in the bedroom. She was not the same bewitching body that had infuriated his lust and had satiated him. Now she was a different woman, equally dominating and yet so detached. He yearned for her.
“The goddesses too have a limit to their beauty, but dear Clietimnestra, you are supreme. In any garb or without garb you have a myriad of illusory exhibitions of your feminine soul. I look at you and again I become your slave. Again I begin to crave for you… woo for you…
“Clietimnestra, promise me, my love that you never shall desert me… will you?”
Clietimnestra looked at him, through a veil of mist, for several moments and said in a grave, frozen voice,
“No Egysthus… as long as the torch of vengeance is aflame in your heart… no. Avenging is the only motivation to live the rotten life. This is a force that makes human life tread the painful path, no matter how painful it is. I too need to exact my revenge. You too need your vengeance, it makes us good company, how then am I to desert you?”
Egysthus was taken aback by her icy, and yet, volcanic statement. He sat upright. She watched the man in her bed through her estranged look that made him uneasy. Behind her façade, he could see an inferno of rage surging within her. Her beauty was no more soothing now but still possessed an immense pull in it.
“I’m waiting for Agamemnon to come,” he muttered in his feeble voice filled with uneasiness, as if he was scared of even uttering the name.
Clietimnestra gave a fiery look and said viciously- “Yes, he must come back. Destiny no more will play its ugly game with me. The valuable ten years have elapsed with no outcome so far. He took away with him thousands of young soldiers to win back my sister and the pride they lost with her so-called abduction. Now the young soldiers that sailed in all vigor no more would be young. Their loved ones here too have gotten old, waiting for them. No hopes have they now, whether their relations are still alive or not. Ten years Egysthus… ten years, a vast passage of time that has slipped in a crevasse of evil past! But Agamemnon never shall die. He must come back to confront another humiliation… insult and death at our hands.”
Egysthus heard her icy voice in surprise.
Would she be able to stand by her resolve when Agamemnon really comes?
“You are his wife Clietimnestra. May be the moment he is in front of you, all your contempt and rage will dissolve resulting in his warm welcome in your arms. I do not think you can ever meet his enraged eyes.”
Clietimnestra looked at the man she had sheltered in her palace, as a weapon in her avenging mission, in disgust.
“Are you praising the enemy, you said you would lose your life to avenge?” she asked in a severe voice and exploded, “or do you think I am a feeble soul, to forget the treacherous past and just keep on dancing to the tunes of treacherous people? What do you think I am?”
Her shriek shook him. He was now a terrified creature. He curled in himself and tried hard to find a way to soothe the enraged queen of Miocene.
“I know … I know… you are a great woman one ever comes across in ones life. I know why you have me nestled in your palace. Agamemnon is my cousin whose death was announced by my father. I’m here to accomplish that feat and win back my lost rights. Do not ever think I’ve got a crippled and have uncertain mind. But I like always to weigh the might and determination of the enemy and the friends. How else could one win the battle? You hate him the way I hate him and that has brought us closer and you have become my lover.
“I am cohabiting you… wife of my sworn enemy…my cousin’s wife and isn’t it a sort of vengeance for me?
“Sending Agamemnon to death may be a favor for him… but this punishment is far more torturous than the pains inflicted in the Tartauras. Who can avenge one better than sleeping with his beloved wife?”
Clietimnestra couldn’t believe her ears when she listened to the mouthful of filth from the worm, Egysthus. Her lips were twisted and contempt flickered in her eyes for a moment.
“Nowhere on this earth, have I seen a lowly man like you,” she spat her hatred in her terrifying voice; “sleeping with the enemy’s wife, you say, if it is a way of vengeance for you it is a thinking of a wrecked mind. You fool, I’m not sleeping with you to avenge my husband, and I’m not with you to avenge my husband. I, anytime, if at all he comes back, can thrust my dagger into his heart when he is asleep or serve him the food all drenched with poison. I do not need you to kill my husband. I do not need you to become an active part, in executing my death sentence, issued on him.
“What nonsense you do think… am I going to get carried away when he walks in and I would surrender to his love? No. I shall embrace him in my warmth that he must be dreaming for the last ten years. I shall shower all my love upon him to ensnare him in my trap. I shall kill him the way one kills an insect with ease.
“I’ve you with me to settle another account. The way destiny played ugly games with me, the same games I want to play with the fate of Miocene. Do not ever think that you have any kind of significance in my eyes, you coward!
“I sleep with you, not because I love you. I sleep with you not because you can satiate my lusts, the way I desire. You are my slave. Don’t you ever dare to tell me what I should do when he comes back.”
Egysthus looked at Clietimnestra incredulously. Her icy voice had sent shivers down his spine. He tried to get enraged and protest her. But the ramparts of his weak resolution collapsed as if made of cow dung. Intense yearning for Clietimnestra again overpowered him in those brief moments. Yes, the revenge of women is more wicked and deadlier than that of men… he thought. He felt like a dwarf before her. I wish to avenge Agamemnon and I am sleeping with his wife. Is it right or is it so that destiny itself is avenging me? Why are my avenging attempts depending on a woman who possesses such remarkable beauty…when so ruthless she is?
He tried to inflame the extinguished fire within him. He looked at Clietimnestra who watched him in indifference. Her intoxicating existence in front of him turned him into a writhing worm. Yes, one must live to possess such fierce beauty in ones arms, no matter if the fire swallows him.
He moved forward, held her tender hand in his and placed his lips on it.
“Dear one, our family is cursed. From generations to generations the curse has been carried forward. I know not where it is going to end. How many have to die of this curse, I do not know. What is the purpose of this all, can ever even god Zeus tell me?”
Clietimnestra removed her hand from his and said, “I pity you and your family.” And she smiled wickedly and continued, “You need a good rest now. I must attend the assembly.”
She got up and turned to leave.
Egysthus watched the grandeur of her body with his aroused heart and muttered in a hoarse voice- “No dear, do not go, please.”
Clietimnestra ignored his craving and walked out of the room with grace. She had to go to the Assembly, where the lords and citizens would have gathered by now. She had to listen to them … their pains and their grievances. Every family of Miocene had sent their young men to the war and now their courage and hopes were on the edge of losing. A cloud of desperation was looming large on the town.
And for what had they waged that war?
To bring back Helen…
Clietemnestra’s sister!
Helen had loved Paris instead of her husband and had fled with him. Didn’t she have enough freedom to choose a companion of her choice? Why did the Greeks wow to wage a war for her that would ask for the sacrifice of the life of young men…?
And my daughter Ephiginia?
Didn’t they so cruelly sacrifice her ceremoniously on the shore, to calm down the enraged Poseidon? Ephiginia, my lovely child, was beheaded… her cries still keep resounding in my heart.
Egysthus…you only had to sacrifice your kingdom…but at least destiny has graced you with life… you are alive! The injustice you talk about was so petty. Ever would you be able to try to look into my heart where billions of storms are raging? The Gods too will tremble in fear, if they ever can experience the agonies I have undergone.
I shall never forgive anybody who has destroyed my heart. Blood must be compensated with blood… isn’t this the rule they have established? I too shall follow the same path with my own wisdom.
Clietimnestra increased her pace as she climbed down the stairs, in her outburst.
But I am the Empress of this kingdom and am bound to my duties. I must listen to the grievances and deliver justice. I must get drenched in their tears and light the lamp of new hopes in their hearts.
She stepped into the garden that had enveloped the palace, with determination.


Orestese, son of Clietimnestra was playing in the garden with maid Acenoi. He was a young boy of a defiant nature. His eyes always would be filled with extreme curiosity about the world, which had begun to unfold its magic before him. He had a lot of questions to ask and old Acenoi would get tired answering him.
Acenoi was an old woman. Her son too had joined the war against the Trojans. The hope that some day the war would be over and her son would come back safely had enabled her to carry the burden of life. She had a deep faith in god Zeus and she knew his verdict wouldn’t deceive her.
Orestese watched his mother walking towards the chariot. He ran towards her with all eagerness. Clietimnestra too saw him approaching her. With deep affection, she closed the distance and held him in her warm embrace.
“O Orestese!” she exclaimed.
“Where are you going mother?”
“To the court, my dear,” she said while placing her lips over his temple.
”Can I join you, mother?”
“No dear son. The assembly is a gathering of old men. You have nothing to amuse you out there.”
“I can just sit beside you and watch what you do and listen to what you speak.”
“It is not a right place for you, son. You would not love it. The assembly is a place where stark unpleasant realities are debated over. It is a place where the fate of commoners is decided with no compassion whatsoever.”
Her voice was pained and a stream of tears betrayed her.
“Then should I play?” asked innocent Orestese.
“Yes, my dear son…”
“Mother…”
“Yes, my son?”
“The maid tells me a lot many stories…”
“It’s her job, son.”
“But my master doesn’t allow me to touch the bow. He says, I am not old enough to learn archery. Tell me, am I so little a boy now? I am tall enough to reach your shoulders!”
Clietimnestra listened to the grievances of her son with deep affection.
“Son, have you learnt to use the sword?”
“Yes mother… I’m skilled in that art now.”
“Son, you must learn what is scheduled for you now. When the time is ripe, the bow will be automatically handed over to you, right?”
“But I want it now. I want to shoot arrows at the moon. I want to displace him. I want to shoot arrows at the morning birds that fly in the sky.”
“You will, son… yes you will. You will be able, soon enough, to shoot at the verdicts of destiny. Do not worry…now will you permit me to head for the assembly?”
Orestese watched her with an uncertain mind, then gave a nod.
Clietimnestra kissed him again and reached the chariot that waited for her. The charioteer drove the chariot exhibiting his skills while circling the garden to reach the road.
Orestese watched her mother disappearing, in his deep reveries. The magic of the moment was now broken. He walked towards the maid Acenoi with a heavy heart.
“How lovely is my mother!” he said.
“Yes prince, she is the loveliest woman on this earth.”
“Was Helen too that beautiful, more beautiful than my mother?”
Acenoi didn’t know how to put her feelings in words. However she managed to say, “Yes my lovely prince… she too was beautiful. The gods in heaven too wooed her. The stars and constellations would hide behind the clouds in jealousy, when she would come in the open air. But why do you ask?”
“My father had to declare the war for Helen. Tell me, when she had the husband of her choice - my uncle - why did she fall in love with a stranger like Paris?”
Acenoi was shocked at the question raised by a young child. She had her own thoughts over the subject but had to suppress them for the moment.
“You are too young to think on this subject, child,” she managed to say. “Life keeps playing its mysterious games that baffle sanity of the living beings. You are too young to understand this.”
“Don’t tell me that,” he said defiantly. “I am a grown up man now. I understand what is going on. Tell me now, why Helen had to go and why there is war to get her back?”
Acenoi knew she had to satisfy the enraged prince. She took him in her arms with adoration and said, “You never saw how Helen looked, you were an infant when she had left Sparta with Paris, abandoning her husband Meneleus.
“When she left, she was the only woman on this earth who could make even the goddess Aphrodite or even Hera jealous. Now, it is ten years that have gone by and may be now she is not as beautiful as she used to be. Human beauty is so transitory, my prince! Time swallows it as it blooms. You know the beads of the flowers that enchant the observers and one day it blooms to its full grandeur and then, in no time, loses its petals and then falls off the branches, haven’t you?
“All this struggle of the human is for the momentary beauty.
“Everybody desires to possess it and wage wars for it. True, Helen was the only woman of beauty who made the goddesses of Olympus jealous.”
Orestese tried to digest the maid’s sincere statement and asked, “Then my uncle too must be equally handsome or why shall the woman of such extreme beauty marry him?”
“Yes prince! You haven’t seen your uncle, Meneleus too.
“Yes...he was a great man to seduce any woman with his looks. He was tall, hefty and valiant. With a knock he could kill the enraged lion! He raised the kingdom of Sparta to great heights. He was not only physically powerful but also ingenious. Helen adorned his valor in her being with him. Helen was a beautiful woman and Meneleus was an able man. A perfect couple the entire world was jealous of. Beauty always enslaves abilities!”
Yet Orestese was not satisfied. He asked, “If it was so, then why did Helen desert my uncle and ran away with Paris? Was Paris more able a man than my uncle?”
Acenoi was taken aback at this direct question. She turned her head bearing a dark cloud of pain within her. She didn’t know how to answer the young boy. She remained silent.
“Tell me-” he insisted.
Acenoi had no choice but to spill her heart-felt feelings before the prince.
“You are too young to understand what a woman feels. A woman leads her life through the myriad volcanoes of pains and ambitions and dissatisfaction. She appears so weak but what great strength she carries within her!
“Men always tend to love the outer world, the fame and power. He craves for knowledge and tries to fabricate different philosophies in his yearning. Womankind doesn’t do any of this. She pretends as if she lives on the mercy of the men folk. She pretends to be overshadowed by her male companion, as if she doesn’t possess her own identity.
“But in reality the facts are different. Women don’t try inventing the philosophies. Indeed they live the philosophies. Never ever does she wield the weapon...she turns her whole existence into a weapon. She always establishes her supremacy. Can’t you see that for a woman like Helen the whole of the universe is shedding blood for the last ten years? Isn’t it the power of a woman?
“No one knows why Helen fell for Paris and ran away with him. May be, she liked him over the husband she had chosen in the recent past. Many try to implore that Paris abducted her against her will. I do not know what is the truth. I am an ordinary maid, prince.”
Orestese ran his gaze across the garden. The slanting shadows of the trees told him that it was a spell of evening. He was saddened. He didn’t know why.
The city of Argos appeared as if death was looming larger over it.
“Why does one desire to wage a war? I see no one happy in this town. Only old men roam in the streets with stooped heads! What is that burden they carry all the time?”
The maid didn’t answer. She was now lost in her own miseries. Someone was knocking her wounds with sharp beaks. What for men wage the wars? Why can’t they just be content with the peace that can prevail, if they just don’t get ambitious? Why can’t they understand the tenderness of life that blooms only once? Why do they have to disrupt the harmony of life? Why do they wish to call their own destruction?
She had no answers.
Is my son still alive and fighting the war? When shall I see him? Or is it that before I see him again or know of him, I am dead?
“Do not ask questions, prince, please do not. Just see and try to understand…” She cried holding the prince close.
Orestese embraced the troubled maid and kissed her forehead.
“Do not cry, please. Never shall I ask you bothering questions, I promise.”
The maid was overwhelmed with emotions. The tears welled up in her eyes with more intensity.
“My child, so many heinous acts are hiding behind the curtain of past, influencing our today. If you know the past, you, I am sure, will feel sorry for being alive. The sins and revenge have cursed our race. I sense their shadow all the time, looming large around us. There is nothing that we can do about it, when destiny is written.”
“But I shall defeat the verdict of destiny-” said the young prince in his determined voice. “I never shall encourage any sin to grow.”
Acenoi embraced him with deep affection.
“Yes prince, at least you can try…”
The maid and the prince stood like a statue in the garden till the evening shook hands with the night.



4


Helen squinted apathetically at beaming and triumphant Meneleus. The sea was uneasy with its beastly roars. The ship was moving slowly towards the shores of Sparta. The soldiers were still in a victorious mood and were roaring zealously. Meneleus held a pail filled with wine in his hand, watching the mesmerising beauty of Helen. The volcanoes of words that could help him to weave a string of emotional eulogy were erupting in him making him speechless. Helen stood beside him after a great war of ten years. These very years, she had spent in the bedroom of Paris, the very thought made him feel jealous. However, now Paris must be enjoying the fury of his sins in the realm of Tartaras. He had won her back and now was taking to Sparta where she belonged. As if she didn’t have any choice of her own. Nobody seemed to care now of her existence as a human being. She was a war trophy… just that! They had won this trophy, losing and taking the lives of the legendary warriors and commoners. The walls of Troy had been destroyed. The pride of Troy was raped…all for her! The race of Priam was wiped out. They had won her back to make her rot in the bedroom of Meneleus for rest of her life.
Though her heart was aflame with hatred, she kept on gazing at the rising and surrendering waves.
Meneleus was the happiest man for he had had his deceitful wife back. And yet he wasn’t feeling euphoric over this triumph. How could he when his wife…whom he had loved so desperately, had preferred to love Paris than him. She had abandoned him for Paris, inviting the wrath of the Greeks. Wasn’t it an inextinguishable inferno of insult for him?
He had avenged the culprit who had dared to rob his honour. The city of Troy was in ashes. Millions were killed. His warriors raped the women of Troy with wild desire.
The city of Troy was now wrecked, where, in the future only the hungry wolves would rule.
And the war trophy, a woman, who belonged to him, years ago, who was showering her love upon him, making his nights beautiful, stood before him as if he was a stranger. The realisation hurt him. He bowed over the deck and said, as if to himself,
“I have brought you back.”
Her existence around him was so intoxicating that he could forgive her of any crime. As he looked at her a deep yearning to hold her in his warm embrace took hold of him. He waited eagerly to have her reaction.
“Yes, you have,” said she almost in a whisper, to confuse him even more, whether it was an acceptance of rejection. She kept on gazing at the shimmering waves in her usual calm. The slanting sunrays of the evening danced over her moony face that shone as if made of pure gold. And yet she was so detached, as if she had nothing to do with the world she was in.
And still her indifferent stance held immense attraction. She, a mystic and haunting being, ensnared again Meneleus in her wizardry.
“Aren’t you happy that we have brought you back?” With a hope Meneleus asked her, unsure what he expected from her.
“What makes you think I shall be happy?” she asked in an icy voice.
Meneleus was taken aback at her question.
“Why not?” Said Meneleus in deep agony, suppressing his anger “I loved you with my heart. I allowed the curse of death to befall on the lives of millions of soldiers. I united the entire Greek community to assault your abductors. Every moment, from the day you deserted me, I lived in burning pains. I witnessed the legendary warriors die for you. And you do not feel anything for that?”
Helen looked back at him. An impassioned silence had enveloped her for those brief moments. She uneasily ran her fingers through her hair. As if a calamity was frozen on her face, for a while, as she kept on gazing at Meneleus.
“You have won back my body,” she said in a flat voice. “You have been my husband. You’ve ruled my body. But tell me what about my soul that still craves for Paris?”
She had hit Meneleus hard. His heart now was on the verge of collapsing. The secret hopes that Helen will be happy to have him back, were now on fire. He swallowed the rest of the wine in a gulp and threw the pail in the sea. Rage and sorrow over his own ruin had started gnawing at him.
“So Paris never abducted you,” he muttered as if his soul was shattering.
She looked at him with her head held high.
“No.”
“You loved him instead, right?” he compressed his anger with effort.
“Yes, I did love him.”
Like a mountain in eruption Meneleus turned towards her.
“But Helen, Paris was my guest. I had to leave him under your care as I had to go to defend our boundaries. With trust that you would be a great host, I entrusted this responsibility.
“And what did you do? You fell in love with the guest like a lowly woman. You spent the nights with the guest in the bedroom where you had showered your unending love on me. The fact is, you were adulterous…you deceived me.”
Helen looked at him as if a frozen volcano, ready to erupt its wrath and contempt any moment.
“Yes, I did that-” said she in her glacial voice.
“But why?” erupted Meneleus.
“You never shall understand,” said she, watching the waves rise and fall. The ocean of gold was boiling on the western horizon, creating myriad scenes of secret dreams.
Meneleus, in his agony, said, “But you must tell me.”
“Are you that kind of man who deserve explanation from me?”
She asked, without looking at him, in a detached voice. She ran her gaze across the horizon, where a pool of orange and gold was connecting the earth with the sky. In the frenzy of that moment, Meneleus grabbed her hands, forcing her to look at him and in a vicious whisper asked;
“You must tell me. You must tell me what was it that made you a whore.”
“Release my hands first,” she said in an equally vicious voice. The look in her eyes crushed the anguished Meneleus. He released her and in desperation threw his hands in air and tried to look at the dipping sun. She kept gazing at Meneleus indifferently and after a long pause said – “You wanted me back and now you have me back. Why insist to know what happened in the past, for what? You are taking me back to Sparta like humiliated animal, isn’t it enough?”
Meneleus turned back to her, letting out a deep sigh of exasperation.
“You are miraculous beauty on this earth, Helen…. You have graced this earth with your being in human form. Why did you deceive me? What lured you to fall in love with Paris? How could you dare to stain the Greek pride? For you we had to wage an annihilating war, losing valuable human life and precious years of our life. This all could have been avoided if you had controlled your lusts. This great human sacrifice had to be staged for you and you feel nothing about it?” his voice now was militating.
Helen let out a sigh. For moments the icy ponds of her eyes rippled with unfathomable pain. She said, “Yes … the sacrifice of innocent people! Yes…and you Spartans did perform it with no thought to the after effects of the war. The gods of Olympus must be feeling ashamed on your deeds. But you feel it was for the restoration of pride – don’t you? You slaughtered the army and common people treacherously. When you could not win the battle, you bent over treachery…That Odysseus who claims to be the cleverest man on earth had to resort to trick Trojans. What a victory! You raped the queen Hacabe and the innocent Cassandra. You butchered the young sons of Priam before his old eyes and all that makes you feel proud! I spit on your so called prowess and impudence.”
Meneleus was speechless for a while, then muttered, “Impudence?”
Helen’s fury now had no bounds. The dam of her indifference was now about to collapse. She clenched her fists and shrieked, “Yes … your impudence. Impotence I should rather say. You were never worried about me. I was merely a treasure jewel for you who could feed your childish egos. You never were bothered what I thought and with whom I slept or ran. My absconding with Paris did hurt your so-called Greek ego only because you had expected that I should suffocate in your bedroom forever. When I did act contrary, you and your people felt insulted and to avenge the insult you waged a war… the war was not for me. Only your lowly concepts of male ego made you fight for me.”
Meneleus didn’t know how to react. Her face, contorted with explosions of emotions made him even more passionate about her. He always loved her … didn’t he?
“But you could have stopped the war. You could have come out of the gates of Troy on your own. We wouldn’t then continued the war. We could have welcomed you and brought you back where you truly belonged.” He argued.
“I loved Paris… I wouldn’t desert him. No matter what befell me.”
Her obstinate and flat statement deflated him. He felt she was slipping away from his influence of love, no matter how desperately he tries to charm her again. In another frantic attempt he said,
“Helen, don’t you remember the oath all Greek warriors had been committed to, to avoid any possible blood bath if the suitors were dissatisfied over your choice? Have you forgotten it dear one? All the great warriors were present in the court…to have you as their bride… no? Your father was frightened, sensing the mood of gathering in his court! It was Odysseus who invented the oath to avoid any confrontation!
“His ingenious idea succeeded. Though your selecting me over the others infuriated them, they remained stuck to the oath. Also they had wowed that if someone ever tries to abduct you in the future, all the Greeks would gather together to punish the culprit.
“You had chosen me, a proud man I was for those brief moments Helen, but you say you loved Paris, a scum! If at all you were so determined to commit a sin, then why you selected me as your lawful husband? Why did you infuriate our rage with a lowly act? Why did you invite hatred when the entire world was singing your praises? Do you think it was a right thing to do?”
Helen watched her broken husband impassively. She turned towards the wooden plank and looked at the darkening sky. A storm was raging within her that waited for a release. With a sharp turn, she said in a loud voice,
“I chose you over all able warriors for my revenge.”
“Revenge… what for?” Meneleus was flabbergasted. “What revenge are you talking about, Helen? What wrong have I done? I Never ever hurt you. Every moment that I lived, I loved you with my every breath. An eternal love for you was always kindled in my heart. I had dedicated my entire life to you, Helen… and you say you wanted to avenge me? Why?”
Helen watched the agitated soul of her husband with an inferno exploding within her.
“For the treacherous abduction of Clietimnestra… my sister.” She shrieked. “Your brother did commit that heinous act. He killed her lawful husband Tentelas to get her, to force her to marry him. He invented the false excuses to engage Tentelas in war because he was mad for the beauty of Clietimnestra, your brother.
“The war destroyed the city of Pisa. Tentelas was killed treacherously at the hands of Agamemnon. Have you forgotten what level of sins you people had reached while committing this condemnable act?
“My sister loved Tentelas with her heart. He was not only the owner of her body but was master of her soul! Your brother assassinated not only Tentelas but cruelly broke the eternal bonds of love and affection when he forcibly married her. What was your Greek world doing then? What justice did they do with Clietimnestra? With impotent prowess, you people stampeded the hearts that were aflame with emotions.
“My father too had to bow before your power. If not, the threat was that my father’s kingdom too would be destroyed like Pisa.
“I was a girl then. But the tears and suffocated sobs of Clietimnestra kept on haunting me. We were powerless to wage a war against Sparta or Argos. But god had graced me with beauty that was to become my only weapon in years to come.
“I’d wowed to break into the walls of your protected palace. I’d wowed to destroy your world that felt so secure. I chose you over others because I needed this access. I wowed to make you ashamed on the face of earth. I waited, when in your palace and in your arms and in the shower of the hollow words of love, for the appropriate time. I chose you. I had to. I had no alternative though I knew I was destroying my life too. I showered my love over you in a patient wait. I knew the oath all Greeks were committed to. Paris just entered in my life like a boon. I always wanted you to suffer what my sister had to. I did it.
“But I never expected the destruction of Troy. I never expected that ten years of valuable life would rust in confinement and in violence to that degree.
“You have me, Meneleus. Yes… you have. You have me back. But is it a decent victory Meneleus, can you tell me?
“Your strong army has now been reduced to a grieving society of survivors of war. Your mighty warriors have fallen on the battleground. Tell me, where is your proud warrior Achilles? Where is your Ajax-the-great now? All have been swallowed by the cruel jaws of death, Meneleus…can’t you see that? The ego of Greeks is ruined. You fought for me and what you have brought back is a walking corpse.
“What do you have now? This tattered fleet ready to sink any moment on the knock of enraged Poseidon?
“What you are going to answer your citizens when they will find they have lost their sons, husbands and friends forever? They will vent their curses upon you. They will weep in lonely torments. What other welcome do you expect, Meneleus?
“And that is going to be the moment of my victory!
“Meneleus, life is so cruel. It never forgives anyone. You craved for my beauty… now you have it back. I’m again in your custody. Rape me if you want to, but can you ever capture my soul in your custody?
“This is the punishment destiny has served you!”
Meneleus stood immobile, like a statue, dazed and not believing what Helen was saying. His eyes had become pools of unbearable pain. He was stunned over the foolishness and immaturity of a woman who had caused the destruction of a culture for such an absurd reason. He didn’t know whether he should pity her or punish her for her insolence. True that Agamemnon had killed Clietemnestra’s husband in a duel and had forcibly married her, but wasn’t it the accepted Greek way of life? A woman had no right to run away on her own, inviting wrath of the male. Helen had been vicious in her manner, in presenting her case. It was making him angry and yet he knew he was so weak before her spell. And yet the sting of her words was fatally hurting. She had declared that the marriage of her sister was unjust and she had avenged it…in her stupid, illogical and crooked manner.
His heart shivered with a flooding pain. True, I am defeated. The joys of triumph no more can sooth me. The thrill of those moments when I married her has, after all, become a humiliation for me.
But the truth is always devastating. It ripped his heart open and knocked it like vultures. Wasn’t this another Tartaras?
He let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing to be said, nothing to be heard anymore. His ego was shattered. His sentiments were mocked at. His triumphant heart was now ocean of repentance. For this vindictive and lowly woman, he had forced his innumerable soldiers in the jaws of death.
He heavily turned his back to Helen and looked at the dark sky spotted by burning holes through the veil of mist that had gathered in his eyes. The sea heaved up and down like a defeated lover, letting out dissatisfied roars. The wind seemed as stagnant as his life now.
Nothing exists on this mortal earth to surrender his life, for life doesn’t deserve it. All my strife has been in vain. I am a cursed man…
His heart burst with emotions. Still I can win her heart. I can convince her it was she who was all the time wrong. I need her…and she need me. I shall speak…
But there was nothing he could speak. Confused, he lingered on the threshold of uncertainty. As if expecting a miracle that she would just break out in laughter and would rush at him and cry and laugh, saying, all the way it was a joke…
But his wait was futile.
He turned again and without casting a glance at Helen, headed for his chamber.
Helen was watching his movements in deep contentment. The moment she felt she was alone, she watched the sea beast in intense curiosity. She held her head high, proud of her self. As if she had no fear of life any more. Her life had been used like a mighty sword. She had had her revenge, after all. She had loved Paris to her heart’s content and had enjoyed all the time the best things that could be offered to a human being suffering a curse. True, that they had her back, but at what cost! True that Paris, to whom she had mortgaged her soul with a deep faith, was mercilessly killed.
And in fact, she was the only one who had emerged victorious.
The pains of Paris’ death would haunt her forever…
She lowered her head. She was suddenly in deep mourning.


5


The weather seemed in no mood to calm down for another week. The tumult between the howling wind and the enraged sea continued, causing storms of terror in the hearts of everyone, except Odysseus.
Odysseus stood below a cedar trying to fathom gravity of the circumstances. The directions seemed monstrous. The torrential rains didn’t allow him to look farther. The raft they had constructed after tiresome efforts must be blown away at the mighty attack of the waves, he feared. As he was lost in his own worries, deflated and weary Polymus approached his king and said, “We have no choice but make a human sacrifice so that the rage of gods is soothed. Soldiers are in the mood of mutiny, we must consider their faiths, Odysseus.”
“Sacrifice?” Shouted Odysseus, not trusting his friend saying this again when his suggestion already had been declined. “For whom do you wish to sacrifice, Polymus? To satiate the ugly wishes of those gods who think they rule our soul? No Polymus, I shall never allow the sacrifice. Agamemnon was a fool to sacrifice his own daughter to please the enraged gods, but I am not.”
Polymus consumed the wrath of his master and said in a soft voice- “You have changed Odysseus. You were never the same person you are now. You have been torturing yourself lately, knowing not what fruits you are going to reap of these tortures and I am sure they will cause your further disorientation.
“Why not follow our ancient practice of sacrifice for it has become a must to bring this violent nature to normalcy? This vicious wind is calamitous for us. The dark skies have cast a perpetual night on this earth when it is daytime. Look at those frightened birds flying away from this island. Doesn’t it tell you enough, the lightning bolting in the sea and a mysterious fog that is rising from the sea to terrify us? Everybody is scared and their courage seems to be swallowed by the furies of nature. I do not think, in all my earnestness, that this storm is going to recede soon. Listen to me, O mighty Odysseus, let us pray to sea-god Poseidon and sacrifice a man so that He may be pleased and allow us sail to our homelands.”
Odysseus listened to the prayers of his colleague silently. Then suddenly in a roaring voice that defeated the deafening sound of the wind and sea, he said,
“Polymus, have we lost our patience which helped us ten long years to see the victory over Troy? Can’t we wait for another few days until a clear morning dawns? This is an ordinary storm compared to those I have seen and laboured through. How long do you think this wrath of nature would last? Not more than a week. My strength of restraint is far greater than the wills of gods. Inspite of all the curses they have showered upon me in order to stop me from reaching my homeland, I promise that I am going to beat them. I promise that I shall return to my country taking all of you with me.”
Even then the mind of Polymus was not contented. He thought is Odysseus really in some kind of delirium, unable to see the stark realities? He let out a deep sign of frustration. The soldiers, who listened to this dialogue, too became uneasy. One of the soldiers dared to raise his voice.
“No Odysseus, this storm will never breath its last till the gods do not have their revenge. Human will is so weak before the mighty commands of deities. All our efforts will go in vain if you behave stubbornly thinking you are above the gods. Polymus is right, sacrifice any one of us to please them and take everybody with you back to the homeland. We pray to you, please take a sensible decision.”
Odysseus looked at the excited face of that soldier and then all others for whom he had spoken.
He took a few steps forward against the crashing wind and said,
“My brave soldiers, let me tell you a few things that you are overlooking. If you rightly think and your hearts are so convinced that against the wills of the God, we can never return to the fatherland, why were all of you so greedily searching for fortune over the dead? With what hope? If at that time an infinite hope was driving you to do all the heinous acts, why does the same hope not flame up your heart to reach your home? What new has taken place that your hearts are in such fear? Who is extinguishing the lamps of life from your hearts?
“Look at me, my brave friends, I am Odysseus who has been, throughout his life, endeavoring to cross the crests of misfortune. And still I never have lost my courage to defeat the impossible. For I trust the might of my body and mind. I possess incomparable wisdom and cleverness in this living world that all the souls envy me for. I never shall accept defeat against the enemy or God. Never shall you forget that the divine verdict is never ultimate. A man can reject it with his will if he is prepared to do so. Our untamable ambitions hold more strength than those of the gods.
“And you say let us sacrifice someone to please the gods! What if it was you?” Odysseus roared pointing his finger at the soldier who had dared to speak his heart. The soldiers moved back in fear.
Odysseus continued, “You said you are ready to sacrifice one of you, how can you behead someone who has been your colleague? Just to satisfy bloodlust of the Poseidon? Why anybody would want to lose his own life?
“But let me tell all of you that I am not going to sacrifice anybody’s life to satiate ugly wishes of gods. One is never sure that sacrificing a soul will bring desired effect. They may demand more and more. And what if each one, who is alive in front of me has to lose his life on this island? Are you sure? Have you truly consulted with the gods what they truly desire?
“Let me tell all of you, if you are going to perform the ritual I bid farewell to you. You abandon me and find your own way. I shall, on my own, set the sail to my land and shall embrace my love Penelopy and my wise son Telemachus. I shall tell your families that their thread of love was so weak that it failed to bring you back. I shall tell them what cowards you have been.”
The outrage of the enraged Odysseus hit everybody like lightening. They stepped forward and in unanimous voice roared.
“No Odysseus. We are not cowards. Our love for our families is stronger than anything else.”
Then Odysseus sat on the boulder and said in a calm but firm voice, “we shall wait patiently, my brave warriors. This storm is bound to die down. Then we shall set sail on the vast breast of the sea. Let us not allow any evil to enter our hearts. Let us not sacrifice anybody. Trust me, all of us are going to change our destiny with our determination.”
With this, the lost belief of his soldiers was restored and they turned back to seek safe shelter. Only Polymus accompanied his master.
Both were, for some time, fighting their own battles that rose in their hearts.
After a while Polymus said, “You have changed, Odysseus.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you so determined not to sacrifice when there are volunteers?”
“You have not learnt a lesson from Iphisiniea’s sacrifice, Polymus. With that sacrifice, few gods were pleased and few were angry. Those who were angry they supported Troy. Clietimnestra too was a furious mother as they hauled young Ephisinea to the altar of sacrifice. Why shall we worry then Polymus whether one god is happy or not? Why shall then we not choose to act on our own instincts rather than surrendering to the whims of gods?”
Polymus didn’t react on the argument of Odysseus, for he couldn’t form his opinion. He just muttered again, “You have changed Odysseus. You truly have changed.”
Odysseus smiled broadly. He looked at the distant horizons where had gathered a distinct darkness and replied, “Yes Polymus, true that I have changed! This destructive play that has been enacted on this stage has shaken me up. A culture that took hundreds and thousands of years to reach the pinnacle of glory has just been set on fire in what a miserably short time!
“Do you think, Polymus, now I am afraid of the curses of those Olympian gods? I am not. I am honestly afraid of the curses of those innocents who were killed and dishonored at our hands. I never could imagine, Polymus, that human hatred can ever cross all the boundaries of decency for a woman. The woman, whom we claimed to be the honour of our culture, was in fact a lowly self. We hankered after a temporary happiness, we waged a war that destroyed a culture and civilization and caused our own culture to head towards destruction.
“Yes, we were fools, we never understood ourselves. So ignorant mass was we!
“We, Polymus, not only destroyed this culture but have sown the seeds of self destruction too! I feel devastated at the deeds we blindly committed.” Odysseus’ voice was choked.
Polymus was silent and trying to understand the agony of Odysseus.
Then, as if suddenly realising everything, he asked in a weak voice, “If at all you think this was vicious and is going to invite another calamity upon us, why did you choose to participate this battle?”
Odysseus seemed to be lost in labyrinth of his own thoughts that were torturing him. His face was contorted as if in self-probe.
After a long pause, he said, “I joined this war with a craving in my heart,” Odysseus admitted.
“Craving?” asked Polymus incredulously.
“Yes, my friend. It was, after all, a craving. An unending desire that never could be quenched, I was no longer eager to join this war when the messengers approached me to change my mind. But then I too was a man with desires and was craving for that bewitching beauty who is born in human disguise- Helene.”
Polymus was startled at this unexpected revelation. He looked in shock at Odysseus and waited. Odysseus continued after a while catching the heavy downpour.
“She was the only woman breathing on this earth who possessed immense pool over all the brave warriors and philosophers. The songs of her mysterious beauty and wits were being sung all across the world. She acquired this fame when she was yet to enter the threshold of her youth. It was said that whoever she chooses as her husband was going to be the luckiest man on this earth! All the goddesses who boast about their beauty too were envious of Helen.
“And I, being declared as the wisest and cleverest men living on this earth, naturally had thought that the divine beauty was to become my ultimate slave. I patiently kept the track of the ever growing bloom of her youth.”
This was incredulous, thought Polymus, coming from his master. He looked at Odysseus in utter astonishment.
“Odysseus?”
“Yes-” continued he in his dreamy and passionate voice, “I was bemused at the rumours about her. I knew that all the mighty Greek warriors were dreaming of her. I knew the competition among the suitors had reached unbelievable height. They all discussed her in utter admiration and still envied each other with all the villainy and enmity, for they wished there should not be any competitor.
“And who could surpass my abilities as a warrior and as an able diplomat and as a philosopher? There was nobody. Then why could I not crave for her? Why could I not want to win the virgin, tender beauty to decorate my nights in Ithaca?
“But there were many suitors who thought they could shed the blood of all the Greeks to gain her. Do you know that her father Tinderious too knew what a calamity was looming over the Greeks?
“The mighty Tussor, Petroclease, Idomenious and the warriors of similar caliber were pining to have her.
“You do know, do you not that when Helen was just a child, the emperor of Athens, Theseious had abducted her. To avoid the repetition of such incident that would inflame bloodshed among the Greeks, I cunningly proposed to Tinderious.
“When Helene was ripe for marriage, a hushed competition was on among the mighty warriors to win her, I secretly met Tinderious and cautioned him that those who were wooing Helene were mighty warriors and able princes and if they are not satisfied over Helen’s verdict, their would be bloodshed. Tinderious too had same apprehension. Taking advantage of his concern, I suggested him to bind every suitor with a pledge that they should unanimously accept Helen’s right to choose her mate and everyone shall abide by her decision.
“I also asked old Tindarious to force all those who were invited to be one of the suitor, to accept her decision, whatsoever it may be, and if anybody opposes her decision and tried to abduct her with force, the rest of the Greeks shall unite to defeat such an attempt.
“When I advised the old and weak Tinderious, I was secretly hoping that if at all the choice was left at the will of Helene, I would be her only choice. I never wanted to abduct her or cause any harm to the peace that prevailed among the Greeks.
“I was confident of my wits and wise instincts. But whoever heard that women submit to wits and wisdom? Whoever knew, including the seducer god, Zeus, what catches the fancy of these beauties? I proved to be a fool! In a crowded pavilion, I, Odysseus, was standing in row with all the anticipation but Helene chose wicked Meneleus!
“She didn’t choose any of the great warriors or any of the great philosopher. She chose a man who was growing under the shadows of his elder brother!
“Her choice brought insult and anguish to the suitors including me. Humiliation…. grief and rage together exploded within me. For a moment, forgetting that I was the man who masterminded the cursed pledge, I wielded my weapon. But soon I realised that I was a cohort to the pledge. I had read the pledge to everyone and breaking it would bring insult upon me. I put back the sword and left the pavilion.
“You know, at least then, Helene became the Queen of Meneleus and of Sparta! The world blessed her.
“But what did she prove of herself, after all, a lowly woman, a debauchee? She adorned the palace of Meneleus for some time. But she brought shame to Greeks when Paris, the prince of Troy, visited Sparta, Helene found solace in his arms when Meneleus was away! And did it end there? The ever-growing lust overpowered her so much so that she eloped with Paris to this island.
“Didn’t it mean that the strength I lacked was possessed by Paris? Didn’t Paris know that the abduction of Helene was going to bring calamity over him and his people? But without paying any heed to the rest of the world that possessed the power to punish him for his impudence, he acted upon his heart’s desire. Truly he challenged the calamity and embraced an inevitable prize, death, in humility!
“I knew this was going to happen with Paris, when I heard that he had broken the pledge. I knew he had marked his own end and along with him of his own people! Since I had drawn the pledge, I had to join the war.”
Odysseus sat like a statue over the boulder. Was he repenting or had he gone crazy, Polymus wondered, as nothing made any sense.
“But in all this narrative of yours I fail to find where your craving for her comes into the picture?” said Polymus in a defensive voice, for he too was one of the contenders of Helene. “True that your scheme didn’t yield what you had desired. But then, you too bowed before the verdict of destiny. Paris failed to notice the mute indications of fate and he paid for it. Look at the remains of Troy. Do you think, one would ever dare to cast his glance on others wife?”
Odysseus laughed heartily.
“True, my friend, no man would dare to cast his glance on an immoral woman, at least till then the memories of this destruction haven’t fade. But what if an immoral woman casts her bewitching glance on a moral man? And you do not know that such man is yet to be born who wouldn’t fall for the seductive looks of a woman.
“Yes Polymus, still no man is born to understand what destruction he may cause falling for the flutter of the rainbow eyes. No one, not even destiny.
“But this all is different, though true. I joined this war, carrying the same fallacies of a degraded man and surrendered to the beauty of Helene. I was caught in her fatal attraction. I thought, an immoral woman possessing heavenly beauty and the lusts of a whore, and who could desert her husband for a lowly man, could still be possessed.
“And this was the very reason why I motioned, sensing the war had no end, to force Paris and Meneleus in a duel instead of engaging the whole army to win a personal war. I hoped that the weak Meneleus would never be able to defeat Paris in a duel for Paris was such a strong man! I thought it would be Meneleus who would be dead. And I knew that the mighty Paris and the Greeks would not return unless they had freed Helen.
“But my ingenuity didn’t help me. Both the contenders fought till the sun was about to hide behind the horizon. When I had almost lost all hopes, I saw both hitting each other and falling unconscious. The verdict was changed. Both proved equally competent. There was no other way to win the battle but engage the whole army!
“Helen was never to become my reward. The rest of her life was destined to be in the arms of Meneleus. My only reward was infinite pain and frustration.
“Why did it happen this way, O Polymus? Why destiny had to play cruel games with me? On one hand I craved for the lustrous beauty of Helen and on the other, I am ashamed of this massacre for a debauchee. My mind is at a duel.”
Odysseus sighed and looked at the massive waves that crashed against the rocky coast. His heart was full of tumult.
“Destiny has given its verdict, Odysseus. There is nothing you can do about it now,” said Polymus in a compassionate voice.
Odysseus didn’t answer. He kept on looking at the crowded sky and grey sea and the hissing Troy. The force of the wind was terrible, flattening everything that came in its way. The tents must have been destroyed by now, thought Polymus. The rain came crashing to add to his terrors. But then the physical tensions were of far less importance than the tragic duel that had began in the mind of Odysseus.
For him Helen’s choice for Meneleus was inevitable. Now he realised the woman of colossal ego who thought that the rest of the world was her slave, could not tolerate to breathe under the shadow of over-powering personality. Helen was bound to choose naïve Meneleus who would have enslaved himself to her charm. She chose him over all other mighty suitors for she knew her own instincts. She fled with Paris because Paris too was a man who could live on her feminine mercy.
But could Odysseus ever be enslaved? No. She must know it, he felt, this is why she didn’t chose Odysseus as her husband. She must have known Odysseus cannot be humbled. How could then Helen choose Odysseus over Meneleus? No, she was wiser in all her pettiness, she knew her existence was driven by lusts. If at all she had chosen Odysseus and in case of the slightest doubt of her infidelities he surely would have slain Helen. Did she know this and chose a meek person over the mighty ones?
And didn’t Odysseus know this? He certainly did. And still a fatal attraction for a mean woman existed in his heart even after the disastrous end of the battle, which was fought for her.
As the storm rose, he found he had no plausible answer to the cause of human traits. He looked at Odysseus, who sat still, facing the roaring gale and rain.
Suddenly Polymus realised, this storm was never to cease. The rain would bring calamity. He listened to the roar of the vicious wind gods. A fear took charge of his heart. He frowned and yelled.
“We must sacrifice someone. Gods are angry and they need blood! We must calm them down!”
Odysseus heard him and turning to Polymus said, “Then I offer myself for this sacred sacrifice. Bring the sword and slay me.”

6

The shriek of Cassandra tore apart the tranquility of the mid-night, sending shivers in the hearts of the sailors and the soldiers who were on the brink of sleep. Agamemnon, tired to his bones after the dreads of the long drawn war, was in a deep, peaceful slumber. Her shriek broke the spell of his sleep, wondering whether he was still on the battleground. He scanned the dark chamber he was sleeping in. Whether it was the concentrated crescendo of the wailing women of Troy when it was burning and the women were being raped, the thought appeared in his drowsy mind, making him shiver. He felt as if that wail was frozen in an inhuman form, and now, like a dark shadow of death, was hitting his ship. For a moment his heart too was frozen in fright. As the fog cleared, he realised he was not in any mortal danger. He was perspiring, wondering what was it that had terrified him. The ship was heaving rhythmically up and down. Then what was it? He tried to recollect his senses.
As he sat up in his bed, another frightful shriek smashed the deathly silence. Now he understood, it was Cassandra who was wailing.
From the moment the war was over and Cassandra as a war-reward came in to Agamemnon’s possession, she had turned speechless. All of sudden, the youth and beauty that shone in her body had lost its charm. Her youthful gaiety and her unending chatter now had deserted her. A doe-like agility that she possessed now had transformed into a shrunken, pale form. A desire that had overpowered him that he would enjoy her beauty and youth during the sail had now evaporated.
Why is she shrieking in the middle of the night in her hellish voice? It disturbed him. All his happiness of having a tender youth in his possession had been turned to exasperation. The ship was heaving in its perpetual pace. The sweeping of oars across the water could be heard in the night of peace otherwise. The wind was still. The sail was smooth. Then what made her disturb the calm?
On the spur of moment he decided to see her, for no reason actually. He knew there was nothing he could do about this princess who had become insane. She anyway was a useless article to him. There was nothing left in her that could charge his tired mind.
But weren’t his commanders responsible for this condition of hers? He couldn’t neglect this truth.
Cassandra was in her tender youth. A devotee of goddess Athena, she had the gift from Goddess Athena to pronounce prophecies. All Trojans were treating her as if a human manifestation of Athena. The day Troy was defeated and in the war- frenzy when the Spartans began a mass human sacrifice, the terrified Cassandra had rushed to the temple of Athena, with a hope that no one would touch her in the sacred place like a temple. She had embraced the wooden idol of Athena, trembling in fear and anguish like a doe in mortal danger. But it was Ajax-the-great who had dared to storm in the temple, spoiling the sanctity of the place and with his vicious intents had raped her without giving a thought to the rage of the gods.
That heinous act had destroyed the psyche of the young Cassandra who had always dreamt of securing a place in the court of the gods. Now she was brought to the level of animals. Her piety was humiliated. Her mind was shattered. And it was the cruel destiny that had served the chief commander Agamemnon with her company. He was totally dissatisfied with her. She was no more a war-reward. It was a curse indeed that he was carrying with him, he felt in his fury. But another shriek tumbled down his resolves. He got out of his bed. A sudden urge to see her gripped him in his confused feelings of irritation and pity.
The cabin assigned to her was next to his. He glanced at the star-studded sky and the dark sea through the hole. The scene of vastness pacified his irritation. He lingered on those couple of moments of ecstasy, soothing his agitated feelings.
He then stepped into Cassandra’s chamber.
She was lying on the bed with wide-open, scared eyes. An uneasiness that stormed within her was obvious from her contorted face.
“Cassandra,” he said in a soft voice, as if speaking to a child. “What is it that troubles you? Why this uneasiness does not skip you? Why did you shriek? Did you see a nightmare that scared you?”
Cassandra did not answer, as if she hadn’t noticed his coming in and raising a question. Agamemnon sat beside her and placed his hand affectionately over her head.
“Tell me, Cassandra.”
The trance of Cassandra was now broken. She looked at Agamemnon, with her wide eyes in sudden astonishment. She pushed his hand away and shrunk in a corner of the bed.
“Do not be afraid, O Cassandra, please. I am not here to harm you. Tell me what has happened? What is it that frightens you?”
She sat motionless and speechless, as if she hadn’t heard him. The dark realm of Hades, as if, was haunting her.
“Cassandra, you are now in my care. You need not be scared anymore. Look at me...trust me. Destiny has rewarded me with you. No matter whether you are useful or useless, I am not that inhuman to spit at the gift. I won’t torture you. I won’t hurt you. Now you are in safe hands. No one ever is going to touch you with unholy intentions.”
He sensed that Cassandra had heard him. Her face seemed a little relieved. With her left hand, she removed the hair off her face, unraveling her face like a moon out of clouds. But yet her face was pale, shrunken like of a person who had witnessed complete devastation. A streak of fear still lingered in her eyes…
Agamemnon, with immense pity held her pale hand in his. She still did not react or move. As if a murky painting, she remained frozen in her pose.
“Cassandra… dear… the nightmare is over. Do not be afraid of me. I mean no harm. Life has begun its ancient tune one starves for. Whatever happened was a curse… a nightmare in fact, but yes, dear, it is all over now…” He tried to assure her, not knowing why he was talking to her in this manner.
She watched him with her eyes in a trance and suddenly a flow of tears began streaming out of her eyes. Agamemnon didn’t know what to do and why she was weeping. He touched her cheeks and tried to wipe out that incessant flow in deep sympathy.
“Why are you shedding tears, O Cassandra, now? What is that storm of pain that still rages in your heart? Tell me dear, I shall try with all my strength to heal your wounds,” said Agamemnon in sympathetic conviction, with pity, feeling it was contrary to his self…and yet he felt so relieved as he spoke to her.
She, in an eruption of emotions, nodded negatively and sobbed. Her whitish cheeks were drenched in tears. Agamemnon felt he was a petty existence in his inability to understand the meaning of this outburst of agonies. He watched her. She too had suffered the extremities. She was indeed a trampled dream. The furies of gods were still intense against the Greeks for her destruction. He could not just look at her as a war-trophy. A flood of repentance choked him.
In his frenzied emotions he held her tight, like a father to a daughter, drenching under the falling agonies of humanity. She, as if, knew what his touch communicated, placed her head over his ocean-like chest. Her tears kept on drenching him and unknown pain pierced his heart. He ran his fingers over her head with immense compassion, in a quest to drown his agonies in the flood of a new awakening. That moment raised him far above his years. That startled him.
The ages-like time transcended in those brief moments, while they remained in that sacred embrace.
Then she moved away, and adjusted herself on the bed, looking directly in Agamemnon’s eyes.
“I see blood… blood everywhere, Agamemnon. Everything is finished. No sign of life anywhere I can see. Like a blind man, you too are in your illusions, treating these scarce moments for the sunrays. But on the brink of death is stooped the universe, can’t you see? See… the hungry wolves with their sharp, blood-stained teeth are threatening the world.”
Agamemnon, without understanding her frail and yet sharp out-cry, tried to console her. But now, with a swift movement, she got up. Her frame on the backdrop of flickering torch looked like a cursed deity. She was pale and yet full of energy that she had produced forth from the hidden store of her entity. And yet she said nothing.
“Cassandra, I know you are ruined due to the course of the cursed destiny that played a barbaric game with you. I can very much understand why you feel distrust about everything and feel a devastating storm dancing around you! But why not now forget it? No one ever can kindle the past to revive it. Every moment coming in the life is pregnant with its extreme dramatics. We live it, we proceed further with a hope that such calamities never ever should befall on us that we underwent. This is the strife of human beings against destiny.
“To tell you, dear, I too now feel, whatever has happened with us in the recent past never should happen again with anybody. The experiences with life have been painful. For the decade, I have been witnessing a frightful drama of uncertainty. The blood we have spilled is immeasurable. The warriors, who were proud of their valour, have fallen on the battleground. The anguish, pains and angst that kept on ripping our hearts to bleed, we still had to undergo every moment. I too have caught severe knocks of the swords of the enemies, on my chest. I too had to play dice with death, exhibiting my skills. The war was terrible, my dear. On one hand were the indestructible walls of Troy and on the other hand, a plane that we had camped, prone to the attack from Trojans as well as from nature. Our soldiers were in a rebellious mood for the long dragged war. The clashes of egos within our valiant warriors were demoralising us and still I had to keep on infuriating the sentiments of our unity among them for the larger interest.
“True, we were as good as defeated and our courage giving way. If it weren’t for the clever Odysseus, we would be doomed. Invention of Odysseus finally came to our rescue. His ingenious idea succeeded. The weather changed in a hurried momentum. The losing war was now in our control. Overconfident Trojans were deceived so easily. That overconfidence destroyed your family and your citizens. But wasn’t the deceit served well to the arrogance of Troy? Didn’t it nestle a woman, a married woman, courting its prince? Couldn’t they throw away that woman the day she entered the gates of Troy, knowing she was about to bring disaster? What was that superego that made the Trojans think they could wage a war against the world for a woman? That too at the cost of their lives? Why did the Trojans not punish Paris for abducting the pride of the Greeks, knowing it was bound to invite wrath? Forget citizens, your father, all-powerful king Priam too could not restrict his son from committing a sin.
“Instead, each one felt proud thinking that they had not abducted a woman but the ego of the Greeks! Enmity of the past was so alive in your community. They had to be punished and they have been, because no breathing soul, with slightest tinge of righteous ego could bear that insult. We weren’t impotent. We had to retaliate. We had to react with our commitment to the oath we were bound by.
“Cassandra, this destruction was invited by Troy and Troy had it. No ethics ever are applicable when one is at war. What matters is victory alone. Who wins is destined to write his verses. We won this battle and that is now an unalterable fact.
“But isn’t it, Cassandra, that the moment that arrives after victory, has to be frozen so as to look at the triumph with a poised mind? It needs more intellect than courage to win a war. I know, Cassandra, we, the Greeks, lacked in that wisdom. In the maddening moments of triumph, we became inhuman…simply animals. We cruelly destroyed human life. We looted the wealth of Troy and the pride of the Trojan women. We massacred innocents. The heinous dance of our inhumanity already has stained the sanctity of the people. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t repent on it when euphoria was rocking the universe.
“But Cassandra, tell me, considering our lost decade, in the uncertainty of future, while our courage was at test, what can you expect from the soldiers and commanders when the victory blessed them as a surprised boon? What their suffocated frustrations and sorrows would do? They had to vent their frustration, somewhere! They had to let out their anger and grief. They had been in your land, away from their families and loved ones for long time. They had witnessed their colleagues walk in the jaws of death while fighting. What reward were they going to receive for their wholesome sacrifice? None. They were not about to gain a woman or wealth. The chances were acute that they lose their lives instead. And yet they fought.
“The moment of victory was the moment of stupefaction. In the moment of victory was the moment of astonishment. In a moment deeply buried emotions, frustrations and insults overtook them in frenzy. They hissed in a maddened triumphant fury to bury their morals and looted and destroyed whatever fell in their sight.
“Dear Cassandra, it was all inevitable, wasn’t it? The kingdom that challenges destruction has to undergo the perils of its unnecessary call and the tormenting outcome of it.
“Raping the women of the defeated state, is a raping the ego of that state.
“But is it right? Now I realise it was wrong. Whatever my crazy troops did with Troy, does not satisfy my soul. And yet I cannot blame them. Isn’t it ridiculous?”
Agamemnon paused for breath and to reinstate his losing energy. He patted her with deep compassion and continued, not minding to know whether she heard him or not.
“Dear, you were humiliated in the temple of Athena. It was uncalled for. Ajax could not resist the devilish forces that had spellbound him. It was a heinous act. It was not only your insult but also of the gods.
“Your mother too was insulted. The young princes, who was yet to see life in its fullest meaning, had been subjected to unforgivable crime.
“And I repent it now. I pray Lord Zeus to forgive me for the crimes we committed. And yet, what was to happen have happened, I have to accept the verdict of destiny with no remorse whatsoever.
“Dear one, still the fact remains that you haven’t abandoned worshiping goddess Athena. You can foresee through the darkness of time. You are not an ordinary woman, to get frightened with the inevitable! Let us try to forget the painful past and look ahead, for the sun that is waiting to enlighten our tomorrow. Why should we not bear the dark shadows of the night of pain patiently, to welcome the spirit of approaching dawn?”
Agamemnon felt exhausted while delivering his heartfelt emotions for the reason he wouldn’t understand. And yet he felt he had reduced the burden he had carried. He no longer was bothered whether she listened to him or not. And yet he watched her intently, waiting with a hope that she would say something.
“You are a fool, Agamemnon,” she spat the words at him in her insane trance. “You think all is over and nothing else is waiting for you. No, Agamemnon, nothing is over. The spilling of blood demands blood. Evil begets evil. The insane beasts of time are out to seek revenge. For you, a war is over, but don’t you know that the war never ends? In every movement, in every thought a war is pregnant! The germs of war never desert the human psyche, forcing him to wage a war either with himself, or with destiny or with his beloved ones.
“That is the truce one has to execute with his own self whether to fight or restrain. And no truce makes you satisfied. The war always is raging in the heart, in every action and in every movement. The conflict remains surging forth intensely even when a man is satiating his lusts with his mate.
“The war always is on with kings and with citizens, with a wife, with a husband, with a brother and with friends and even with sons and relatives.
“No commitment to peace ever can be practiced when one has stepped in the vast battleground of life.
“You think, Agamemnon, that you are a wise man and possess compassion enough to sooth the enraged hearts. You think that repenting over the past deeds reduces the burden of sins. The wisest people, like you, always meet with more tragic end. You feel you are wise because you cannot see the mirthless smile of destiny.
“You lack in that vision.
“What is the prudence in your winning a war over Troy? Keep that secret triumphant laugh with you, till you meet your fate. Every good or bad deed influences the future, never ever forget. The destruction of Troy is a prologue to the destruction of the Greeks, can’t you sense?
“Go back, Agamemnon… go anywhere. The home you are travelling to, in victory - its reward is about to become the cause of your end. Beware! I can see blood oozing from your existence!”
Knowing that Cassandra was out of her mind and was in terrible fright, Agamemnon caressed her, saying,
“My citizens love me like a son. I’m the husband of a loving woman and I am so sure that she is desperately waiting for me with her soul in her eyes for last ten years. I know that by this moment the victory-fire on the summit of mount Eda is lit and my dear Clietimnestra knows we have won the war and are on our way back to home. She will welcome me by laying carpet of her warm loving tears. I know, though, she will fight with me… she will complain for my long absence… and yet she will fall in my arms, kissing me and hating me and loving me over and over again. I am so impatiently waiting for those sacred moments.
“My dear son, Orestese, too will walk the difficult path the way we have walked, I shall always be a proud husband and father.
“And now, Cassandra, I am the master of your life too.”
The passionate force in Agamemnon’s voice was so intense that the insane Cassandra too waited till he completed his speech. She looked at him in serenity and suddenly her face got contorted. She suddenly let out a thunderous laugh that shocked Agamemnon. The laugh infuriated him to the extent that oblivious of his serious mood, he got up and roared,
“Shut up, Cassandra. You have lost all your senses and need treatment from a priest. All your wisdom has abandoned you and the gods seemed to have deserted you. Do not try ever to infuriate my rage. Never…”
With this, Agamemnon kept on gazing at the mysterious, crazy woman in her dreads... He was trembling in his rage and casting his last glance at the maddened Cassandra who kept on laughing incessantly he stepped out of the cabin in utter frustration.
Cassandra watched him go, still laughing that exhausted her frail body. Then she adjusted her body against the heap of pillows and tried hard to control her hysteria. When she was back to normalcy, she glanced at the roof and in a tormented voice, muttered, “O lord of my soul, Apollo, why did you grace me with the power to peep into the dark future, with a curse that no one will ever believe my prophecy? What shall I do now, tell me. We are heading for another destruction. There is nothing that I could do about. I just have to walk in the clutches of the miserable future. Nobody trusts me…”
And with this, the daughter of emperor Priam got drowned in tears.




6

As the raging storm and rains didn’t recede though they had waited patiently for days trusting in Odysseus’ words, dissatisfaction in the troop grew intense. Hopes were dying in them. They wanted to get away from that cursed island that was holding them mercilessly back to it against their wishes. They gathered in a ruined mansion and gave vent to their angst.
“Odysseus has developed such an insolence in him that he dares to challenge the verdict of the gods,” said a frustrated soldier, expressing every one’s feelings.
“True, I feel he wish that all of us rot on this cursed land. He will wait till each one of us is dead and then collecting all our loot he will leave for Ithaca.”
“Under this outrageous weather how can he sail the raft all alone when we aren’t sure whether it is still intact or not?” One soldier raised a valid point, “I feel Odysseus has lost his wits and is in delirium. He doesn’t understand what he is doing and for what he is waging a war against Poseidon. He is casting us along with him, in a crevasse of destruction. We must reason with him, cant we?”
“No one but the gods can reason with him,” muttered a soldier in exasperation.
“Then the only way to stop him is to kill him! Let us sacrifice him!”
There was a deadly calm on the outburst of one enraged soldier, with several wounds and scars of the battle of ten years over his body.
“Yes … we must sacrifice him for it is a verdict of Apollo. He said Odysseus would never see his homeland again. And has ever the verdict of Apollo gone wrong? May be it is destiny that has chosen us to perform this sacred duty,” another soldier said in his greed-tainted voice while his eyes were shining with cruelty.
“And if at all his death is inevitable and written,” continued the same soldier with his vicious voice, embolden that he had won the confidence of his fellow soldiers, “let him die for a sacred purpose. At least then Hades shall forgive him for all his impudence and insolence. He shall then live a peaceful life after death in Hades. May be he shall be chosen by the gods to decorate their holy courts at Olympus.”
The prospect of Odysseus’s life after death seemed to charge everybody. But still there were doubts.
“But he is our king and has been loving us with fatherly affection. True, that lately Odysseus seems to be beside himself, but does it mean that we sacrifice him to please gods?”
“Agreed, but we have to sacrifice somebody. It could be anybody who volunteers or selected by Odysseus himself. But don’t we know that Odysseus wouldn’t allow sacrifice? He wishes us all dead instead. He has gone crazy. Isn’t it better to sacrifice a crazy man to secure our life from the wrath of gods? We need to live. We need to go back to our fatherland where our families are waiting for us.
“And doesn’t Odysseus too say the same? Doesn’t he too desire with his heart to take us back home safe and wealthy?”
“True,” roared that man, “his desires maybe genuine, but then why is he challenging destiny? Why doesn’t he want to bow before the verdicts of gods and make them happy instead? Let me tell all of you, destiny is supreme and all of us, the living creatures, are insignificant before it and for his insolence against the rule of gods we must slay him and secure our return. Don’t you forget, it is not we who are going to harm his life but fate. We are just instrument in the hands of the mighty destiny.”
The fierce argument that had burst forth under the deathly weather enlightened the rays of hopes in the hearts of morose soldiers, who desperately wanted to go back. The ship would be ready soon. Only the enraged nature was stopping them from setting the sail.
It could be stopped - the rage of Poseidon- but someone must die.
And it was Odysseus who had created an obstacle in their way.
“Yes… he must die. Let the wishes of gods be fulfilled,” roared all the soldiers in a unanimous voice.
Polymus, who heard all of them, stepped forward and said in tremulous voice, “Ashamed I feel for all of you, for you have crossed all the boundaries of sanity. It’s not Odysseus who has gone insane, but you.” Polymus roared as if a lightning was deafening the universe.
He came amidst the gathering and looking directly in everyone’s eyes, continued his outburst- “You wish to sacrifice Odysseus only because he is not willing to bow before the ugly wills of destiny that asks for human sacrifice? For his daring, that you call insolence? You filthy people unanimously desire to kill him for his dream to take you back safely to your families? Ashamed you must feel for what your ugly heart schemes.
“When human lowliness reaches its extreme, only then does one think of gods and destiny. No limit then exists to the sacrilege of a human soul when they carry the curse of eating their own flesh. I am ashamed that you are the people once I was proud of. You say you all can join together and kill Odysseus? Then must I tell you, even if gods of Olympus unite and vow to kill Odysseus, they will meet death inevitably, then who you are? Lowly creatures shall not dream of heavenly bounties. It is not your domain and never shall you even think of attaining what your destitute minds. Like violent beasts we have begun forgetting our compassionate traits. But the war is over, the blood-frenzy is over, isn’t this time to reason?
“Let me tell you… all of you…” roared Polymus in a terrifying voice, making everybody feel that they had missed a heartbeat.
“It was Odysseus who already had offered himself for the sacrifice. He is bound by his pledge that he would take everybody back home safely. I have heard you and you hear me now for I am telling you the truth. Had Odysseus heard you crossing the boundaries of decency he would have preferred another death. I have heard your senseless deliberations. Your minds are drifting. You are reasoning when you seem to have determined to commit a sin.
“Now should I tell you that Odysseus is neither mad nor delirious? He is only a man who lives on this cursed earth with his unquestionable wits and wisdom. No matter what calamities befall him, he is a hero who surely will overcome his tragedies. He never repents. He never boasts. If he has declined the verdicts of gods, there must be something to it.
“Don’t think you ever can slay him. I, Polymus, now challenge you and even those enraged deities to inflict a scratch upon the body of Odysseus. Odysseus shall defend himself with all his wits. There exists no god who can restrict a determined man. How then, you lowly worms, propose to stop him?”
The sky exploded in an unbound rage. The crests of the mountain seemed shattered and the sea crashed against the will of the earth letting out an enraged howl.
The rain crashed down like infinite heads of poisonous snakes to swallow the earth below. The storm turned into a dooms day rage, frightening every soul that breathed in its domain. Polymus cast a contemptuous glance at his stunned and deflated followers and left the place to face the calamities of life.





7

Odysseus stood, under a Cedar like a statue, as if carved from the rain and mist, lost in his own agony. Troy was subdued to the rain and the howling wind. The heavy mist was floating above and the outrageous streams were flowing towards the sea. The battleground was immersed in water. The vultures had disappeared for there was nothing left for them. The enraged wind was showing no sign of stopping. The atmosphere was filled with frustration, contaminating everybody’s heart with its evil spell.
Polymus somehow managed to find his master, cursing the weather. His courage was giving way. It seemed as if the earth would end up with a great flood. This was the twentieth day since the tumult within nature and human endurance had started.
It took a few moments for Odysseus to notice Polymus who was waiting patiently beside him.
He tried to give a vane smile and asked, “What is it Polymus that you want?”
Polymus, with great efforts, buried his annoyance and said in a cold voice, “The raft is dismembered at the lashes of waves.”
Odysseus considered the problem that he had feared of but remained poised.
“The rain will stop and so the raging storm. Rage is always followed by bliss. I can see the peace in this deluge,” said Odysseus in his detached voice. “And don’t worry, we will build another raft, mightier than this one.”
Polymus did not know how to react to his unemotional countenance. Were the ignorant soldiers right in their assessment that Odysseus had gone mad? Then why did he argue with them? He wondered. Lightning flashed the horrifying nature, followed by a roar of the dissatisfied souls from heaven.
“We must sacrifice a man, we must. I insist now for the verdict of gods seems decidedly against us. It is so clear now that we cannot blindly turn our back to it. We shall not put our life in danger unnecessarily when we have the remedy. Let us throw it at the inquisitors of our souls who are determined to put all the hurdles in our way”
Polymus, feeling whether he too was a deranged person, contradicting his own convictions, was really a ruined man. Fear had gripped him too. His courage was losing. He simply didn’t know how he could survive the perpetual attacks of the irate gods.
Odysseus looked at his companion with unfathomable regret.
“I am ready to sacrifice myself if you think only sacrifice can solve your problems.”
“You have said it already and may be, your obstinate nature can result in your own sacrifice at the hands of the enraged soldiers. I sense the mutiny bursting in them and no longer can we suppress it. I am terrified. We know that without you, we cannot lead our way to our homeland safely. That is the very reason why you are alive till this moment.”
“Are you against me and my decision?” asked Odysseus in a calm voice, pregnant with anger.
Polymus considered his commander’s question not knowing what he was expected to answer.
“No…. There is no one who can ever dare to sacrifice you, though they are scheming for it,” admitted Polymus in a frustrated voice.
“Then I say there is no need to sacrifice any human soul. Let the sky explode its curses upon us. Let the ocean be a threat to us. Let us wait. Let us be patient till the might of gods is beaten. I know that they have their own limits. The storm bears its own death in its entity. Its raging is time-bound, trust me.”
Polymus was not content but still he waited for his master to speak. He was feeling he was dragged in a war without knowing what side he had to take. At one hand he knew it was only Odysseus who could take them back to their fatherland and at other he knew the mutinous soldiers would act stupidly if his master didn’t follow the general opinion. He had lot to say and argue over this but his courage didn’t allow him to do so. Instead he avoided the subject, again coming back to his own shattered mind, said in a deep voice, “my heart is in a deep agony, my friend.”
He didn’t know what he was talking about. His mind was in pains he never could fathom. He desperately was trying to rise above the immediate problem he was facing. He knew his obstinate master would never listen and act upon. He was afraid of him and yet hated him the most for his detachment towards boiling problems. Instead he had jumped in oblivion where everybody feels like blind.
“Why, O Polymus?” Asked Odysseus in compassionate voice.
“I’m worried for the future of this earth. I do not know for sure what is in the mind of the gods? I had thought that with the change of generation, the human soul steps ahead towards the ultimate salvation. But when I think of the past and the present, my wits seem to be worthless. With every passing day, I feel all of us are diving in the depth of sins, instead of salvation.” Said Polymus in his weak voice, not understanding whether he had put his feelings unknown to him in right manner.
Odysseus laughed wearily and said, “Why are you worried about the world then? Why not think of yourself only?”
Polymus looked askance at Odysseus and then after an exhausting fight with himself, said, “I am not a secluded person to remain unaffected by the surroundings. I live in the situation that is not my making and yet I am an inseparable part of it. I cannot just escape the circumstances I live in. I have to suffer… I have to undergo the events, good or bad... feelings, sorrows, cravings and whatever human traits ask for.”
“Then why not just undergo what you are destined to? Why expect sacrifice and worship that cannot spare you from what you must undergo? Why not wait and see how destiny changes its hues to torture you more without any attempt to denounce its verdict?” asked Odysseus with a sarcasm.
Polymus was startled and yet he ventured to ask, “What is it that makes you so detached and fearless? Why can’t you just accept the verdict and bow before destiny?”
Odysseus gave a hearty laugh while watching the enraged downpour. He said, “My dear friend, after all those experiences and after all the mockeries of destiny that I have seen through my inquisitive life, what I am doing now is watching a strange game of circumstances, and honestly, I too fail to understand it’s meaning. You know, my friend, that we’ve spent valuable ten years of our life on this island. We were intoxicated with a frenzy and vigour to pull down Priam’s empire to our feet and take back Helen to Greece.
“What an experience we had! All the time, we were fools with our so-called knowledge and wisdom. We were here to fight our life and souls, out to win back a woman, Helen who was as immoral as a whore. The Greek should have understood this well in advance, when Helen, of her own accord had eloped with Paris, her husband’s guest. The Greeks should have forgiven her for her impudence and for her lowly nature. But our entire civilized world took it as an insult. For us it was an abduction of our pride, but was it really so? All the time, she was free to have her own man of choice. She had selected Meneleus as her husband, the same way she selected her own lover. Who were we to meddle? And yet we, in frenzy, gathered together to avenge. And then, we so degraded our souls that we still can demand a sacrifice. Aren’t the gods of Olympus still satisfied with this massacre?”
Like the weather, Odysseus was exploding too. Polymus stood in front of him, intently listening to his master, though his own heart was a chaotic world.
“Who knows, there would be more sacrifices. May be more wars are in store for us. What one can do when a race has decided to perish?" said Polymus in a vague voice.
Odysseus didn’t comment. He watched the heavy downpour indifferently.
“We cannot change the hearts that are suicidal. We can only make whatever life we have, beautiful and ideal. We can make ourselves capable to meet the challenges posed by destiny,” he said after a while.
“Is it really possible when destiny is so mighty?” Polymus asked.
“For me, it is always possible.”
“Even then you had your attraction for Helen!” Polymus said, a deeply buried question that always had baffled him.
“That still exists in my heart, attraction for Helen,” said Odysseus.
Polymus watched Odysseus confusedly, saying, “You too then are an ordinary man, Odysseus.”
Odysseus let out a wry smile.
“True, my friend, but I’ve been trying to cross the limits of my ordinariness, no? I am not opting to wage wars to win Helen… only the attraction for her rules my heart! It’s a wile that has been pulling me towards her but should I fall for it? No. Not that all ambitions and cravings are graced with fulfillment. True, she continues to haunt me, but it is not necessary to have her physically.”
Polymus didn’t react. He never could understand his enigmatic master. He wiped out the stream of water rushing over his cheeks.
“Our camp is destroyed. We have to find shelter… in the ruins of Troy.”
“You may proceed with the soldiers then.”
“And you?’
“Let me be here in the company of my own agonies,” replied Odysseus in a heavy voice. “I cannot bear to see those remains now.” He paused for a few moments then suddenly he exploded in pain.
“If I enter Troy I shall remember the rape on Cassandra in the temple of Athena. Her cries will rip my chest apart. In that frenzy of victory, I too had raped the queen Hacabe viciously. I still remember her face contorted with pain and humiliation while dying a thousand deaths in those brief moments. I was dumb… crazy and a wicked man who drove her mad.
“Tell me then, how can I step in that city where the corpse of humanity had writhed?”
Polymus said, “Guilty feelings are taking you over. The result of war is always destruction. The women of the enemy are always meant to be raped.”
Odysseus didn’t react. Lightning flashed across the horizon followed by a deafening thunder. For a moment the island illuminated in a dreary light to give way to the painful darkness. The rain was falling with vicious intents, as if it had taken an oath to sink the island. Polymus let out a heavy sigh. A maze of unknown feelings is engulfing me, he felt. Uneasiness was biting his heart. He didn’t know whether to feel confused, enraged or saddened, to let out the stream of the never-ending tears. Questions which he had never ever confronted in his life, now stood erect before him.
The destroyed Troy that now lay behind the thick veil of rain appeared before his guilt-stricken mind. The shrieks of the dead and the raped and the abducted, were resounding in his eardrums. The man, who had brought victory, was now in a sorry state, bowed under the burden of the past deeds, feeling ashamed.
Where did we go wrong?
Or is it that what happened was right and I am unnecessarily burying myself in futile sorrows?
What is the truth after all?



















8


In the dark night, a torch was seen lit on the crest of a mount, announcing the victory of the Greeks over Troy. The guard who had eagerly waited for years with a yearning in his eyes to see this victory-light, looked at it first in disbelief, then an excitement exploded in him. In no time, he too lit the torch on the crest of Mount Lemnos, where he was posted. Subsequently the torches were lit on Eda crest and then vigilant guards from the coast of Athens witnessed sacred fire.
For sometime guards stood still with mixed feelings of joy and wonderment. In fact they had given up hope though they had kept their eyes glued to that mountain with optimism that keeps on flaming in every human heart. They unknowingly placed their hands over their bursting chests and with wide eyes, unbelieving, and watched the glowing dot of light that was illuminating their world. The long wait was about to end. The Trojans were finally defeated. Argos had turned out to be victorious. The mark of victory, the torch, lit on the horizon, mesmerised their hearts and when the waves of excitement receded, they rushed at each other to embrace, pat and shout the glorious slogans. And then, parting with vibrant voices they muttered,
“We have won…” The wind was still, time frozen. Their hearts were flooded with the intense emotions. Finally the day of salvation had dawned upon them.
The old guard knelt down and tried to control his throbbing heart and choked throat. His eyes were filled with tears and with his weak strength he was trying to say something.
“Now… my sons shall come back. When their wives see them safe and sound, they will resonate the universe with their joy and grief. Yes… my daughters-in-laws shall go crazy to have their men back. Yes… the glorious news has reached my old and weak ears. I must announce the news at once to all…”
Then, as if intoxicated, the old guard got up and to the surprise of all the young guards, he rushed to the drum and started beating it crazily. The sound of the drum broke the spell of the evening silence. It resounded in every atom of the universe.
Every one in the city knew the significance of this euphoric sound. Each one got up from their beds at the sound of drums, not trusting their ears. The sound was incessant. There could be no doubt about it. They weren’t dreaming. Then there was a wild rush all over the city. The darkness enveloping the city was torn apart by the illumination from every house. The citizens crowded the streets, asking each other- “What happened? Has our army returned or is it just the announcement of our victory?”
Then they saw the madly running old guard. They asked him to stop. The old guard, with heaving chest and streaming with sweat, stopped, his face beaming and elated.
“What is it? What is it all about?”
The hoards of questions were shot at him in unison.
“We have won. I saw with my eyes the torch of victory lit on mount Eda. We have defeated the Trojans and have preserved our pride. My brothers, dance and sing for our brave warriors. This night is of salvation for every one.
“My sons too shall come back now. Your sons, brothers and husbands too will return soon and the city that is dark with frustration, shall smile bright in its ancient grace. From these same pavements, will patter their horses in victorious merriments…
“Oh friends, enjoy this night, for so rarely such divine bliss one encounters in his life. I am so eager to break this news to the queen. I am heading to the palace, as if my entire being has become news. The troubled soul of our beloved queen shall have some respite as soon as she hears what I have to tell her!”
The citizens were already ceremonious now and with their hilarious shouting, the calm of the night was being shattered. Those women, whose husbands had gone to the war of prestige, and were in unbearable wait, were now beaming with a newborn hope. Old women, men and children who had hardly seen the face of their close relatives were excited. The city of Athens was lit with not only lamps but also with crazy hearts. Everyone was drenched in tears. This time, the tears were sacred. Not those that one lets out when in agony, in the loneliness of nights. The tragedies were over and yet a fear was haunting…
Whether their near and dear ones have survived the perils and violence and the tragedies of war…
What if they don’t come back…?
The victory would be incomplete…
Their life would remain incomplete as ever…


Clietimnestra too, in her half-sleep had heard the sound of the drum announcing the triumph. She was in the embrace of Egysthus in her gorgeous nudity. When she heard the crazy drumbeats, she couldn’t understand initially what it meant. The incessant sound was hammering her drowsiness. She got up and glanced at the naked Egysthus. His huge and well-carved body was sprawled on the bed in deep sleep. On his face, she still could read the gleam of fulfillment. With a hope, unending, she watched him in a deep desire. Then she again heard the drums and the sudden crowd of people on the streets was enough to bring her back to her senses.
She approached the ornate window and looked at the city, blazing in the delight of victory.
She understood now what it meant.
Her body shivered incoherently. She lacked any reaction. Her body then stiffened with her stupefied mind. She was simply shocked. The Greeks were victorious. They had defeated Troy… didn’t they? The victorious torch on the crest of mount Eda must be lit and that is why it is making the citizens so euphoric.
Dark clouds of frustration started gathering over her dazed mind. She didn’t know how to react. This was the moment she had been waiting for, for a long time…and still it had startled her. She was confused and hated what she was looking at. The suppressed hatred for everything that she had to suffer suddenly surfaced.
This shouldn’t have happened… every cell in her body yelled. She knew what this victory meant. Her sister, Helen, must have again fallen in the hands of the Greeks. It was her, the symbol of the so-called Greek pride.
She was one who had attempted to spit on the vain pride of the Greeks.
No.
Troy was not defeated.
No one had died actually.
It was Clietimnestra who was defeated.
It was she who was dying.
Destiny had something strange and unimaginable for her in its store.
She stood by the window like a statue carved from the gloom of night. Her glassy eyes watched the celebration on the streets of Athens, indifferently. Now the gathering was heading towards her palace, ignorant of the knowledge of what their queen thought at that moment.
She gripped the wooden bars so tightly that her tender fingers got numbed in the ice-cold weather.
“No,” she whispered. “This cannot be a true victory. The treacherous souls must be at work to fetch this feat.” She nodded her head vehemently. “But they have won. They must have brought back the ethereal body of my dear sister… not her soul… I am so sure about it!
“But he is coming. The treacherous soul of Agamemnon is coming back.
“Why are these bastards so crazy on this victory?
“Only because their dear ones may come back, safe and alive?
“But what is coming for me?
“Death… humiliation and ultimate defeat?
“For me this victory is tormenting.
“No reason to rejoice for.”
Her heart yelled, lamenting over the unexpected.
The wounds were becoming fresh …
She glanced at the crowd entering the premises.
“No… they must be stopped!”
But she could do nothing about it.
People were free to approach her…at least in a time like this.
“This stupid merriment pains me. But… may be… I am the winner in fact. He may come back… Agamemnon in his victorious moods and soon he shall find that I spent my nights, not in his dreams but in the arms of his cousin Egysthus, his enemy. The sting of this reality shall shatter him.
“Yes, here waits his death…”
The explosion of the resolve soothed her. Her heart, more firm and sturdy, she watched the gathering in front of her palace.
Clietimnestra turned back. She glanced at Egysthus, still in deep sleep, unaware of the tumult all around him. She leaned over him, kissed his cheeks, muttering, “Egysthus!” Getting straight, with determination, she walked out of the chamber.
She first entered her private room. With exquisite make-up, she made herself look as fresh as the dawn and a heavenly deity. She changed her garb and placed her crown rightly over her head and with her magical charm stepped down the stairs.



“We have won O Empress… I saw the mark of victory with my naked eyes …” announced the old guard kneeling before her. Behind him were the walls of the joyous citizens in excitement.
The queen stood straight. On her face was shining a beam of joy. Without looking at the old guard, she snatched her necklace and threw it at him in benevolence and raised her hands to silence the gathering. The mob watched her with deep respect, waiting patiently for what she had to say.
“O my dear citizens-” she said. Suddenly her face was contorted and a string of tears flew down her cheeks. Then with a choked voice she continued- “This was the day we waited for! I miss my dear husband very much, I miss my dear daughter Ephiginia too, who was sacrificed for the cause of the Greeks. I lost my daughter, a young child who was yet to see what was it to be a human being.
“Before we had lost a single warrior to the rage of gods, I, with my own consent, had allowed my beloved daughter to be sacrificed.
“I am sure, the victory we have today is due to her. I pray that my dear Ephiginia is in the realms of gods and must be happy to see our victory from the skies. I am a mother and I remember her every moment. I weep in her memories. But now I have a consolation that her sacrifice didn’t go waste.
“This is the victory of Ephiginia’s sacrifice and so of your near and dear ones who may have fallen on the battlegrounds. We must keep our hearts stronger to bear whatever may come forward when the victorious fleets reach our sacred coasts.
“I’m a mother, my dear citizens and a human being who can understand what you suffered during last ten years. I too missed my valiant husband.
“But we have won. The waiting has been fruitful. The pride of the Greeks has proven untarnished. Shout in glory, ye! Light the sky with our hearts’ emotions. The dream that we saw so desperately every night has come true.
“Defeated is Troy of the heinous souls. Collapsed must be the challenging walls of Troy. Lamenting must be the woman of Troy over the death of their beloveds, crashing heads on the chests of the dead bodies of their husbands and sons! Captives must be thousands of soldiers of the enemy that joined the war with ill intent. We have punished the impudence of the robbers of our honour…
“Yes… the pride of the Greek!
“How joyous must be our valiant warriors. Through the hard efforts and pains and bloodshed, they have fetched this impossible victory. The best of the Greek brains must have been at work. And see, now they have enslaved the mightier enemy.
“How content they must be feeling over the impotent outcry of the defeated enemy!
“O my citizens, not that this victory belongs only to our valiant warriors but to the rich heritage of Athens too. The victory does belong to the ideals laid by the past generations. This victory belongs to the women of Greece who courageously sent their husbands to war. The victory belongs to the mothers who knowingly sent their young boys for the war where the vicious death only dances.
“So happy I am today that my heart is choked. My eyes weep and yet the dreams in my heart do flourish.
“The long night has come to an end, in this night of great news. The life has graced us supreme satisfaction.
“Athens has proved to be the greatest civilization today and the poets of our city shall get busy in finding adequate words to garland this victory.
“No… this war never was for Helen, but it certainly was to crush the vanities of the uncivilized cultures that could dare to attack the sanity of other cultures.
“Humanity has won.
“Athens has won.
“No one shall ever dare to employ its crooked mind to sabotage our honour and culture. We have proved how offensive we can become if someone dares us. Now the nights shall be peaceful and loving. No fear shall ever encroach your hearts.
“Soon, our warriors will come back. Sons will meet mothers and husbands will meet their wives. Fathers will watch with tears in their eyes their young dreams.
“Yes… Athens has turned victorious today. So much have we suffered for the last ten years. We have sacrificed our valuable years of youth and their dreams. Alas, never shall fate punish us with such a cruel verdict.
“Go and pray to Lord Zeus, Lord of Olympus. Ring the bells with pleasant notations and resonate the sky with sacred music. Let the entire world listen to our euphoric songs.
“Beloved ones, never shall you forget the lesson that this war has taught us. The lesson is our blind faiths, our impudence; our crippled souls never shall challenge the destiny.
“So vagrant was Troy. Never they bothered about morals and ethics. They dared to seduce my sister, Helen.
“Isn’t an eye for an eye is a rule of our society? They challenged us by abducting my sister, revenge became inevitable that very day. How could we sit silent?
“So we have avenged and exhibited our valour to the world. Those who had mocked at our morals and ethics have been crushed!”
The voice of Clietimnestra had reached a crescendo and mesmerized the gathering.
“Go back and pray…and rejoice!” commanded Clietimnestra, and having etched her benign image in their hearts, with applause and shouting victorious slogans, the citizens of Athens retreated to celebrate the night on the streets.
Clietimnestra, now completely drained, turned her back to the retreating hilarious mob. She glanced at the dome of her palace. What blissful peace was closing in, as the sound receded. The wind blew swiftly that ruled the atmosphere in its sacred surrender.
Clietimnestra didn’t know what to do next. She felt rather exhausted.
She didn’t know what she really felt.
Her mind was astray.
She was unable to gather herself. Was it right what she said?
Whether she spoke her feelings or was it another deception?
What was true?


She entered her palace and climbed up the stairs where Egysthus, unaware of what was happening around him, was in a deep sleep.
Clietimnestra, in her own unfathomable marsh of confusion and explosions of her agonies, lay still beside Egysthus. Suddenly, her eyes welled up. Tragedies that her life had suffered began suffocating her. The cruel duel was on with herself. It was she who had been robbed off of her life. It was she who had been robbed off of her daughter. Robbers had been turned victorious. There was no truth in the world of men. They so easily had proved her a fool.
But I shall avenge. Until I kill Agamemnon, my soul won’t rest in peace.
Let him come…
With my own hands I shall kill him.
Till the first ray of sun adorned her hair, she was stark awake with her final resolve.



8

The storm wasn’t ready to ease and was decidedly in a destructive temperament. Odysseus watched the outburst from ashore, so calamitous and vengeful it seemed. His soldiers had already found shelters in the ruins of Troy. Odysseus had no courage to follow suite as he held himself morally responsible for the destruction of a flourishing city. His heart would weep when he cast a glance at the remains.
And yet he too was getting worried at the outrage of nature. He had to wait…patiently till the storm and the deluge receded.
True that with great efforts and his spell of encouragement upon the soldiers another raft was built, no matter how savage nature was. Odysseus was waiting for the storm to end, only then he would dare the infuriated sea. The soldiers’ moral again was getting down as the days passed by. They were panicked and antagonized with Odysseus, though now no one dared to propose sacrifice. They were convinced that gods had wowed not to allow them to go back to their homeland, their curse was true, and obstinate Odysseus wouldn’t listen to their desperate pleas.
Odysseus had to control the rebellion that might explode some day with vengeance against him. He made attempts to keep their moral, with his passionate promises and with threats.
The rain must stop. The storm should ease. Let the directions be clear and the sea calm. He would think while sitting under a tree, under the streams of water taking violent gust of the wind over his chest.
But now he felt his own courage was giving way. His fellow warriors already had left Troy. Agamemnon, Philocterege, Nestar…all were home bound. And so mercilessly, he and his soldiers were left bound to this godforsaken island though it was he, the architect of victory.
Should I hate the ugly human traits that spit on you, when their souls are fulfilled? Why human race is so treacherous that drinks blood of their own people with selfish intents? Odysseus would think in his outrage, confronting the lashes of the violent wind on his broad chest.
Now, for him, the Greeks had deceived him. They sailed on the good ships, leaving the worn out ships for him. The storm has sunk whatever was left and the raft too that he had built with efforts. He was forced to build another one under the savages of nature, forcing his discontented soldiers to work hard. Ithaca was two mouths sail. Greeks didn’t give a thought as to how they would reach the homeland. I, in fact, masterminded the victory; I marked it with my own hands, risking my life. I brought back the lost honour. I fulfilled my promise. I wasted the valuable decade of my life for their vain pride. How could they disrespect me, deceive me, desert me to face the lashes of treacherous destiny?
How could they be so mean?
The loving and beckoning figure of Penelope floated before his tormented eyes in the mist of the savage storm. He tried to hold her in his arms, but she just slipped away. He wanted to run after her. In sudden craze he got up and ran till he reached a high rock where the wild waves of the sea crashed in suicidal vehemence. Now the mist was getting intense in his eyes, making everything invisible for him. Deafening uproar of the winds and waves engulfed him. Penelope had disappeared. He closed his eyes, trying hard to shrug off the painful memories that had begun to haunt him.
“Dear one, so missed I am from the ways of life I worshipped. The illusions had gripped me in its ghastly clutches. Do relieve me from the bonds of these dreary deserts. So eager I am to be in your warm embrace and so desperate I am to shower my affection on my dear Telemachus! So anxious I am to forget the nightmare of our fallacies. I need you dear, so desperately I need you.”
He, in his frenzy was about to step into the wilderness of the sea when a strong hand held him back.
Startled Odysseus looked back
It was Polymus, drenched from tip to toe.
“What do you think you were doing?” he asked in a grave voice.
Anger swept in the fogged mind of Odysseus, he retorted, “What do you think of me, a fatalist? The enraged Poseidon needs a prey and I am here to quench his ugly appetite. Let him rejoice my death.”
The anger of Odysseus startled Polymus. He looking at the misty horizons through the veil of approaching night, terrifying waves and deafening noise, said,
“But you were so determined to defeat the verdict of the Olympian gods. What is it that makes you suicidal when you already have challenged their verdict?”
Odysseus was enraged with himself, with the perpetual attack of the climate and with the presence of Polymus who had broken into his privacy.
“Polymus, I still oppose these gods, who have cast me in the lap of cruel circumstances. I challenge their powers and their ugly will with which they keep on scheming against human souls. Yes, I still dare their ugly rule.
“How long can the sky pour and the sea be violent? They have to recede one or the other day and I am testing how long they can challenge me.
“I too am draining like the sky and enraged like the sea.
“The fight with the mortal lives always is easy to win if you are in right minds.
“The fight with the wrath of nature, always is a bitter test of our persistence.
“This frustrates me, troubles me. Memories of my loving wife and son are haunting me. I have to go back…”
The resonating sound of Odysseus’ voice resounded above the howling winds and enraged waves.
Polymus was an understanding soul under the cursed sky. He watched the towering figure of his master in all obedience just as he would when tending his herds under the bright sun of Ithaca, looking at the mountain-peaks, in amazement, in appreciation.
“Everybody have left this island with the prize they deserved and still we are bound to this cursed land,” said Polymus in a heavy voice. “The gods still are not pleased with the horrendous sacrifice of millions on this battle field. Still they seem thirsty for the blood of innocents. I agree with you Odysseus that the sacrifice of some individual now is meaningless when the gods have had enough.
“If at all, Odysseus, we cannot set sail to our homeland, we shall settle here and with a zeal anew create another civilization. Do not worry and pain yourself more with the ugly attacks of destiny.”
The serene voice of Polymus soothed Odysseus. He patted his shoulders with affection and said,
“The rebellion breaths in you and me. I say I am right. Let the gods prove I am wrong.
“Yes… we shall prove that the gods were wrong! Trust me my friend, we are going to reach Ithaca one day under its bright skies. Yes, we are going to make it.”
Polymus nodded and looked at the outrageous ocean. "We'll have to wait till the storm recedes,” he muttered to himself. The beasts of dissatisfaction were howling in the hearts of his companions. They had given up hope that they ever could go back to their homelands. Odysseus was an untamable wall hurdling their way. What if they rebel against Odysseus and kill him instead? Polymus didn't know. He sank in his own worries.
The sky exploded in thunders, somewhere in the sea, bolted the lightning…
Death was dancing in its all viciousness all around.
No light of hope anywhere was in sight.


The storm continued for the next ten days. Thunderstorm, flashing of lightning's followed by deafening explosions, and the torrential rains in the company of the haunted island made Odysseus feel lonesome. His colleagues would not speak to him, would cast odious glances at him when they came across him.
The land was now converted to a huge pond. They could not light the fire to warm up when the chill was so killing. Shelters in the remains of Troy were no more secure as the crashing rains were demolishing the walls. During the day, they would get busy in securing and strengthening the raft. There was now nothing else to keep them busy. The raft had become their only obsession for, if at all weather changed, it was only mean to take them to their home.

On the eleventh day, the east began clearing with winds changing its course, rains subsiding and the towering waves pacifying.
All of them stood still, smelling the sudden change in the weather. Nearly extinguished lamp of hopes suddenly flared up to light the campfire of joys. They raised hands and shouted “hurrah…” and then rushed to Odysseus.
He was sitting, leaning over a log, a smile of fulfillment dancing on his face.
"Poseidon has given up, is calmed now. Our patience has been rewarded. Yes, now we can set for sail, " he said in a enthusiastic voice.
Everybody, except Polymus, shouted slogans in the honour of their leader. Knowing not whether to laugh at these creatures of the wobbly mind or praise the perseverance of Odysseus, Polymus stood silent.
These were the same men ready to sacrifice Odysseus, hated him, he thought bitterly.


By evening, the sky was scraped off of all the clouds, so clean and clear it was now painted in the colors of the evening sun. The sea, as if it had never been a part of the disastrous game of the past weeks, was playfully kissing the shores in warm admiration. The streams were clearing out the pond. The landscape was not the same now. Murky mud and remains of the drowned preys were a disgusting sight. The smell of death was burning their nostrils and yet they were happy.
In the night, they killed a couple of wild goats to celebrate their luck. Then they danced and sang and when no longer could bear the excitement, collapsed and went into a peaceful sound sleep.

The Morning dawned with new promises.
"Let us set for sail -" commanded their master, now far more confident and composed.
The soldiers climbed down the wild slope where they had secured the raft. The water was welcoming for the sail, its ancient, deep green color had returned. Everybody painstakingly pushed the raft into the sea while holding it from the shore with a rope so that it did not drift away. One by one they set their feet on the raft, Odysseus was the last to climb.
"Cut the rope and hold the oars," commanded Odysseus.
With a swing of the sword, the rope was cut to abandon the raft from that cursed island.
Everybody in extreme excitement resounded the skies with their slogans. Then they began with the oars. The raft, dancing over the waves, moved towards the deep sea, leaving behind the island that had swallowed over ten years of their youth. It was a tragic farewell. They wanted to be far way, as soon as possible from that cursed island. But memories of their lost friends too came crowding in their mind that was filled with complex feelings of grief, fury and a happiness that they were leaving the doomed island. Now they suddenly fell mute, with unknown depression that clutches a person when extremities of emotions are being experienced. The dead were dead and never would come back to life, they knew. The savage hearts that they had become during the passage of bloodthirsty time suddenly turned fragile with the mourning. They sighed, looked back at the faint shoreline and prayed to Lord Zeus, let their friends be happy in his divine court.
"To Ithaca," said Polymus in a heavy voice, "Do you think we really can reach Ithaca with this crude raft?”
Odysseus looked at him through his sky- like deep blue eyes, thoughtfully.
"Who says we are going to Ithaca with this raft?”
Polymus was puzzled, "Then where are we going?”
"I told you, we are going towards the island of Sicons."
"Sicons?" Polymus was dumbfounded. He had thought Odysseus might have skipped his crazy idea.
"I never believed with such a weak raft made of unfit logs and sodden creepers, we ever could reach Ithaca. A small gale too would tear apart this raft drowning all aboard. We need a good, sailable ship. And I have something else too in my mind that I had told you about. My soldiers need wealth that is abundant on that island. Let them have the satisfaction that they are not returning empty handed."
Stunned Polymus watched his unpredictable master for some time. Then he set his gaze over the foaming heads of the waves. What his master said was true, they needed a sound vessel that safely could sail through the treacherous waters. The Sicons, who were famous for abundant wealth, were not far from that location.
Yes, they could at least reach till there safely, thought he.


12

Odysseus was on toes all the time. He was observing the direction of the wind, and the currents of the sea and commanding his oarsmen, changing the course occasionally. The raft was heaving wildly, the joints of the planks were making cracking sound, causing fear whether they will sustain the frictions. They were praying that they remain safe, no joint breaks to leave them to face the gruesome grip of death … after having survived the long strife with doom.
Keeping his eye on the Capricorn in the nights, Odysseus would watch the location of Tethis star. But as the constellations would course towards western horizon the urge to sleep would overpower him. Before his eyes would float the pleasant memories of the past, beckoning him to come back to them. His heart would be an infinite space filled up with the pleasant sorrows while thinking of Penelope, his beloved wife, and the passionate moments he had had in her embrace. And memories of his beloved son Telemachus too would keep floating in his bereaved mind.
What could possibly have happened in Ithaca? By now the fall of Troy must be known to the entire universe. She… Penelope must be waiting for me with her soul in her eyes. My son now must have become a young man with infinite aspirations surging in his heart. So desperately I need to see them… so desperate I am to be with my family, with my people.
My whole life has been a gamut of worthless struggle, neglecting the very wealth of eternal joy. And what, after all, I earn from this meaningless strife? What made me join the war that never belonged to me? Nothing…I earned only hollows pride, abundant frustration and endless scars of pains!

In two weeks Odysseus could watch the green outline of the Sicons Island. He commanded to hurry up…. speed up to reach the island. In fact, there was no need of his command. The beckoning island that could give them wealth, ship and possibly women they were deprived of did the trick. The raft moved with astonishing force.
The tall mountains and bustling palm trees gradually became distinct. The sunrays had begun slanting. Hoards of wild animals could now be seen grazing in the lush-green hill- sides. They could see the single- mast ships of the Sicons moored in a bay. Avoiding that spot which could be under vigil, Odysseus guided his ship to the safer location.
The soldiers were in a mood of rocking the horizons with their erupting joy but Odysseus silenced them with a signal.
"Listen to me first ….get hold of these ships because we cannot go back unless we have a strong fleet." Then he made divisions of his small force and commanded, "One group will follow me to the nearest settlement to look for the wealth and one group will stay back to guard the seized ship. The moment we come back, all of us will start for Ithaca."
The coast where they moored their raft was devoid of any human soul. The troop he had assigned to take possession of one of the ship marched euphorically towards the harbour.
Odysseus, satisfied, now started for the nearest settlement of the Sicons with rest of the soldiers.
"Nature has bestowed tremendous wealth to this island.” Said Odysseus as they climbed the hillock, “the Sicons do not value emeralds and gold that is abundantly scattered on the surface of this island. Like stones you can find shining raw diamonds decorating the lands under the shining sun. They use these precious stones to adorn their walls and in funny children games. Had they known the commercial value of the wealth they have, they could have prospered beyond limits. Of course, abundance devaluates the preciousness of the things, if it is coupled with ignorance and lack of wisdom. May be for them cattle and food grain is more valuable.
"The fact is, no one who values and knows what fortune awaits on this island can venture to outsmart them, because they are the cruelest of races. They are the worst enemies and one should think thrice before attacking them. Let us use our brains to get hold of enough wealth to satiate the deprived."
With eager eyes, Odysseus' soldiers were looking at the walls of the settlement. They had increased their pace. They knew they could overpower the tribal Sicons with their proven might. Greed was gritting in them to shed another bloodbath. Spending ten years for the fall of mighty Troy hadn't yielded anything for them. At least on this island, Zeus should not disappoint us, they were praying silently.
On the ramparts was no one to greet them with arms. So confident that no one ever would attack them, all men folk were busy in the farms and the meadows, tending to the herds.


The open door dampened their fighting spirit, while infuriating their insatiable hunger for wealth. In the streets, scantly dressed children were busy playing some game. It was a small town separated by a major dirt road.
The silence was so deafening that they had only the solace of the uproar of kids and their own footsteps.
No one watched them marching in.
Odysseus signaled his team to halt. This is going to be an ordeal…. But let me face it, he said to himself. I am bound by my promise…. I must fulfill it, no matter what happens.
Then they were noticed. There was a deathly silence that suddenly enveloped the atmosphere with haunting threat. The game was interrupted. The children took some time to recover. They looked with their bulging eyes at the strangers with wielded weapons and then the spell of fear was so intense that they churned the silence with shrieks and ran to find shelters, not daring to peep out and see what it was that frightened them.
There was no resistance. The soldiers with raised weapons with lust imminent in their eyes for wealth and women rushed ahead, grabbing every thing they thought was precious.


Immobile Odysseus stood erect at the gates watching his men in ferocious mood. Polymus too was standing beside him.
Casting his dispassionate glance at Polymus, Odysseus asked, "Why haven't you joined them?”
Polymus took his time to answer.
"No, Odysseus, I have begun to develop a hatred for wealth, the wealth that deprives you of the humanly sentiments, I hate. What am I going to do with the wealth that does not promise me eternal life?”
"Then what is it that you want?” asked Odysseus in the same detached voice. "Why did you then waste your valuable ten years of youth when you didn't need anything?"
For a few moments Polymus watched the scene ahead. A woman was being assaulted. The boy who surged forth to resist was beheaded with a swing of sword. With raging oceans of selflessness, he sighed. Even now the war is not over…. No lust is satiated…no injustice is over, though each one has undergone the same uncertainty of life. War still continues.
Never ever had he thought why he had joined the forces to massacre? Was there any objective? Then why after all he was there where he didn’t belong? The silence upon his soul grew unbearable. It had to be him, to break the questioning walls of his self.
"Odysseus, never ever did I know for what I had to live. As a young man I used to weave threads of dreams for my future. How will I live my future, what brave feats I'm going to attain, how I would marry a universal beauty…how the world would be envious of me… how the world we live in will love me in deep faith and affection and how no one would ever deceive me."
A sarcastic smile appeared on his face as he started opening his heart. "But nothing was destined to happen my way. As if someone already had decided who were going to be my parent, friends, enemies, wife and children, as if even my position in the society was predefined. It too had predefined my inconsistent nature, my fallacies and outburst of repentance when nothing could be altered. Nothing was in my command to drive and lead my own future. Like a dry blade of grass I was destined to float on the winds of destiny. Never did I possess strength to challenge the outrageous winds that threw me where I wouldn’t be a happy man. My destiny could only make me stand in a row of knights in your assembly, as a devoted follower. I could become a lord, for my father was a lord. I had to marry a daughter of the lord, for our social standards were so well predefined. I couldn’t marry a girl I'd dreamt of. She didn't enter my life flapping her mysterious wings of dreams, showering her innocent laughter and love upon me. She came in my life without stirring my personal agonies and aspirations. I had to marry her for I'd no choice, because it was all inevitable."
Polymus paused, weighing the burdens of his own grieves. The unbearable pains had shadowed his face. In his heart, as if, infinite storms were raging.
“Odysseus, I had to join this war of Troy because I'd no choice. The war-frenzy that had captivated every Greek, forced me too to join this war. I'd no personal choice. The religion of self-respect and vengeance against the abusers was taught to me, I had to be righteous enough to follow the rules of my society blindly, without wondering whether this war was against real evil, or was it really an insult of Greeks! Though my heart kept on crying - No Polymus, no, do not participate in this war, personal rivalry has nothing to do with you. It was all about lust, I knew and yet I could not refuse to join the euphoric forces. I had realised this war was an alarm bell for the life that sprouts on this earth…. so innocently.
"But again I could not tolerate to be called a coward. I lacked always in my decisiveness, willingly or unwillingly I had to be a part of a game that certainly was going to lead us to disaster. I joined the war. I wasted my valuable youth. Do you know, O mighty man, one can buy everything but time? Time is not on sale. How ignorantly we kill time when one cannot buy a single moment extra!
"But I joined the forces knowing the outcome. Fought the war with equal zeal, shoulder to shoulder with the mighty warriors. Shared all the exciting moments of bloodshed, victories and defeats. I too shed tears on the death of Achilles and Hectar.
"But what, after all did I want? Beauty? No. Once you have consumed it once, no matter how beautiful they are, they all look the same when in bed, one realises this when one have had them. We need women to satiate our lusts, no desperate calls of the harmonious co-existence prevails when you have won the heart of the beauty and has trampled it over the bed. And are we really sure we can ever win their hearts?
“I never ever craved for physical possession of other women.
“Wealth, no matter how fabulous it is, scarcely allows you to fulfill dreams to your heart’s content. I have seen the dames of celestial beauty falling for paupers. There is nothing stable in our world. The things we go on hunting vigorously, putting life at stake, prove worthless when one has attained them.
"So, for me the world is a crevasse of craze and sorrow. No purity or exaltation exists on this unruly earth. I have experienced it.”
The eyes of Polymus were welling up. Odysseus moved forward and hugged him in an oceanic affection.
"I hate the world,” said Polymus, after long moments in a choked voice. "So meaningless is the life!"
"No-" said Odysseus in his deep, convincing voice. "Life never is trivial…if at all there is something that is absurd it is human passions. Try to look beyond these worldly passions and you will find there is nothing worthy or worthless. Let us understand this first… for time, though it seems so infinite, in fact is finite for us.
“Let us be more wise. Let us be more understanding…."
And both watched the scene ahead with heavy hearts.


Calamities were befalling before their own eyes. Craving for wealth was making his soldiers euphoric to kill and assault. They were even fighting among themselves. The abused children and women watched them in terror through the gaps of the doors.
Odysseus helplessly looked high in the sky. The sun was stooping over the western hills. Rows of birds were landing upon the treetops.
"It’s enough," shouted Odysseus suddenly, in an earth-shaking roar that could tear apart the hearts of the bravest.
But no one paid any heed to his call.
"Turn back before the Sicon men come back -" roared Odysseus again in tremor. Still no one heard him. As if the demon of greed was not ready to relieve them from its clutches.
"No Odysseus …some more …some more…"
The impassioned face of Odysseus now was blazing red in rage.
"You fools, turn back…. This is my order…”
Like a bolting lightning his thunderous voice hit their minds, it was enough to bring them back to senses. They stood stunned looking awestruck at Odysseus with hopes still alive in their bulging eyes.
"Turn back, I say. One calamitous war has spared you with life, the Sicons will just slay you -" And he turned his back and in disgust strode towards the sea shore.
With frustration and muted rebellion everybody followed him.



Now they were climbing down the hillock to reach the bay. In twilight, the ocean looked like a seductive damsel inviting the entire world to cherish its beauty.
"Now let us sail one of these ships. Come on board at once," commanded Odysseus.
"But Odysseus, we could've grabbed more diamonds. There were plenty… enough for us to buy the entire world -" said a soldier in a wail.
"No bounds to the human greed you fool, even if entire Olympus turns to be of gold and is gifted, you won't ever feel content," said Odysseus in enraged voice making them silent though they all were unhappy. Those who were left behind to grab and guard the ship seemed in brutal moods. And yet they simply had no courage to reason with Odysseus. They, with discontented hearts, climbed upon the ship, but hoped that they could change Odysseus’ mind.
Odysseus still stood back on the shore, lost in his own troubles.


The soldiers on board fought, debated and deliberated that when there was so much of gold and diamonds still waiting for them on the island, why this old fool Odysseus is not listening to their requests? He is the only barrier between immense wealth and we, why not we convince him that it is senseless to run away from the stores of welcoming fortune, moaned a soldier.
Everybody nodded. The greed was taking hold of their souls.
"We can stop Odysseus -" ventured one soldier with his suggestion. "Serve him wine blended with sedatives. Let us go back when he loses his senses and have as much as we can -"
Their eyes gleamed in sudden excitement. It indeed was a great idea.
They had gotten busy in conspiring against their master.
Now only Odysseus had to come on board…




13


With frightful uproar in his heart, Agamemnon glared at the darkening horizons. The signs of the coming storm had changed the atmosphere. In sudden frenzy gulls were rushing back towards the nearest land. Lifeless wind had cast its deadly spell over the flat surface of the grey ocean. As if the universe was curled in a single moment before it would receive the fatal attack from unseen destiny.
The oarsmen were applying all their might to row ahead, but how vain were their efforts. The sea appeared as if an even, hard ground spread across the horizon, so unfriendly and frightening under the darkening skies. The spell of that ghastly silence didn’t last longer, though. Suddenly the horizons broke in thunderous explosions to shatter the blanket of the lethal calm. Swerving wind, raising pillar of the water of vicious intents, from nowhere attacked the sanity of the stunned atmosphere, as if the dissatisfied dead from the graves had come alive to swallow the living world, tearing apart the flat surface of the stunned ocean.
Impact of the sudden assault was horrifying. The ship hurled sideways like a toy with a monstrous jolt, sending shock waves in every heart. The deck was bathing with the mountain high waves. Agamemnon too lost his balance. His fears were coming true.
All the soldiers, hopeful to reach their homeland till moment, watched the fury of the storm in fright. Whatever was coming was evil, they realized. The ship was now in control of the forces that kept on throwing it in vengeance. A mist veiled all other ships that followed Agamemnon’s. Every thing that had been standing erect on the ship until now was vibrating and rolling unruly on the moods of waves.
Agamemnon somehow managed to enter his cabin to hear the shrieks of Cassandra. The hurtling wind had made everything unstable. Wooden planks were cracking on the lashes of the forcible wind and waves. The ship now had no direction. He had to fight his way through the jolting doors and corridor to enter Cassandra's doomed chamber.
Cassandra was sitting upright on her bed, clutching both the corners while screaming like a possessed of evil dreams. Her eyes had turned lifeless and her face pale with fright. The storm was gearing up, throwing the vessels helter-skelter. The howling sound was making him deaf.
He somehow managed to reach her with a careful crawl.
"Don't get terrified, soon this storm will be over…" he yelled, unsure whether she heard him.
As she looked at Agamemnon, life begun to return in her eyes, yet fear had its ghastly grip over her pale face. She, like a forsaken child, spread her hands, fell in her attempts to find solace in arms of Agamemnon. He held her before she would hit the floor, hugged her in deep compassion, trying to reassure her that she needn’t be scared. That like the bad dreams this tempest too will end soon. They will make it; they will reach the sacred lands of Miocene in complete fulfillment. Let us not worry…this is bound to end…the evil.


But the storm was in a disastrous mood. The night was falling over the universe like a nightmare. Torrential rains and lashing winds ruined the sails to tatters and the mast too would give in to the rage of storm any moment. Everybody, including Agamemnon, was praying to the Sea-God- Poseidon to ease and show mercy upon the unfortunate voyagers.
The ship was moving uncontrolled in the vast ocean. The water gathering on the decks was adding to their fright, no matter how tirelessly the slaves were perpetually busy throwing it back with pails, what if the ship sinks. The fate of their fleet was still unknown…. They had no way to know. Lashing of torrential rains and the evil darkness of night had blinded them. Nobody knew what the rage of sea god had in store for them.
Cassandra rested her head on the broad chest of Agamemnon, who was holding the leg of the bed for support with one hand while with other, he held Cassandra in a clement embrace. Why gods had to be merciless for this innocent child, thought Agamemnon in those dark moments of calamitous weather. How happy she must be when in the company of her father…king Priam!
She is so tender, she has not reached the age to be stricken at the hands of the ruthless world. Roaming freely in the streets and in the gardens and about the streams without worrying for anything is the age she is in. Then why should she have to suffer the agonies of heinous tragedies that have befallen her?
His heart was overwhelmed with deep compassion. He tightened his grip around her, his eyes welling up, and memories of his own childhood clouding his mind.
He never wanted to recall his past. He was so afraid of it. And yet he was thrown in the crevasse of those miseries by an invisible hand.


Agamemnon's life was a bloomed harvest of curses. Every step that he took in his life was shadowed by evil. Not only him, but his entire bloodline was damned with a curse to die at each other’s hand!
Tantalus was his great grandfather. The sequel of curses and inevitable pains had begun with him. With his eternal thirst, Tantalus till now, is being tortured in Tartaras …
Before Agamemnon’s afflicted eyes was unveiling the gruesome past. A raging storm outside… a devastating storm within…vicious death dancing mirthlessly and around him lay a cursed fairy, his eyes were pouring.
Tantalus … O unfortunate Tantalus…who contemplated himself equal to Lord Zeus… why did he have to serve the flesh of his own son to the gods to please them?
When realized what and why flesh was being served to the gods, enraged Zeus, throwing away the plates, cursed him for his audacious sin.
He is still standing in the river of sands with thirst eternal. Every time water rises to reach his lips and as he attempts to drink it, it turns in to hot-piercing sands. Why, O Tantalus, had you committed such a grave, unforgivable crime? Why did you need to serve the flesh of your son to the gods… just to delight them?
No…but I too am a descendent of the same clan, repeating the mistakes to suffer is the destiny that has been written for us.
Didn't I too sacrifice my own daughter to please the enraged Poseidon who wouldn’t allow us to set sail?
O Ephiginia…my dearest daughter, why didn’t my heart stopped throbbing the moment I commanded your sacrifice?
What a demonic father was I? Can my repentance bring you back in my starving arms?


The son of Tantalus…Pelops, was revived back to life by the gods taking pity on that slain child.
Master of fabulous wealth, Pelops, soon reached the age of adulthood and began his hunt to find a suitable bride. Never anywhere did he come across a young woman that could enchant his heart. Finally it was Hyppomedia, daughter of king Enomayous, who set him on fire of lusts when he first saw her.
She began to haunt him. Wherever he would cast his glance, only Hyppomedia he could see. He grew restless as the days went by. His proposals sent to her father were welcome but he had to accomplish a feat against him to marry his daughter. He had to win the chariot race with king Enomayous.
And he knew well that Enomayous was unconquerable in chariot race. Those who would dare to race with him had lost not only the race but their life too. Many had lost their lives in their suicidal attempts to seek the hand of Hyppomedia.
Pelops knew he could neither win the race nor did he desire to die that early. He had to do some trick to defeat Enomayous and marry the celestial beauty that ruled his heart. After an impatient passage of time he found one.
He lured the charioteer of Enomayous, Metilus, with a promise, a heinous promise…
The perpetual stream of transgressions knew no end. My predecessors were mere bundles of sins. They went on committing one sin after the other.
Why these memories do not vanish to let me see the clear, sinless sky? Why cannot I live a life with no linkage with my treacherous past? Can’t I ever have that freedom?
But… so inevitably I too am tied with the unchangeable past! I must suffer…live …breath the same sinful air my forefathers breathed.
Or must I die?


Pelops lured Metilus with a promise- a promise that Metilus would receive the honour to celebrate the first night with Hyppomedia if he helped him win the race. An honour so irresistible for a person drenched in lusts, that Metilus happily agreed.
Metilus dutifully fulfilled his promise he was committed to.
The unconquerable king Enomayous eventually lost the race. He took the insult on this defeat so strongly that he committed suicide the moment the result of the race was clear to him. Now Hyppomedia belonged to Pelops. The marriage was a great ceremony for the Greeks that endlessly congratulated Pelops for this impossible feat and his wedding with the striking beauty, Hyppomedia.
It was the time Metilus waited for. He reminded Pelops of his promise. Pelops never had any intention to fulfill his promise. He asked Metilus to ride him by the seaside and treacherously killed Metilus by throwing him in the sea, from the cliff.
Metilus, on the brink of death, cursed Pelops. Had Metilus any right to curse a sinner when he too was an accomplice? Wasn’t he expecting a sin in reward of a sin?
But he cursed Pelops.
"Your clan will be ruined by in-fighting and killing each other. Pelops, your soul will never be at rest … when alive and when dead…"


How true that curse had proved.
Ferocious revenges and ruthless assassinations has formed a perpetual cycle since then…
And it is continued till today!


Hey Metilus, do you know what a horrible crime you have committed?


Hyppomedia, unaware of the deal and murder of Metilus at Pelops’ hands, dutifully loved her brave husband. In the course of time she gave birth to two children, Etrius and Thestese.
When Pelops died, both brothers fought over who should become the next king. When they could not reach any solution, they ultimately decided to divide the kingdom. True, that the kingdom was divided, but has the craving for power ever been satiated?
Soon, both brothers were challenging each other and waging wars to claim each other’s territory. Both claimed justice was with them and Oracles too supported their respective Kings.
Wars did continue for a long time to result finally in the defeat of Thestese. He had to flee from the battlefield, losing everything except his precious life and an avenging mind. He was absconded for years and let his brother rule the entire part of Miocene.
Life is so terrible and ruthless that it doesn’t allow anybody to read what is hidden in its darkest stores.
One day Etrius’ maid conspicuously told him that Thestese had never absconded but indeed was sheltered in Miocene with a hope to destroy Etrius. She even told the astonished Etrius that his wife had found solace in Thesetes’ arms and indeed he had fathered Etrius’ both the sons Etrius was so proud of.
The news fell over Etrius like molten lava of an erupting volcano. His rage knew no bounds. First thought that he must kill his brother and his treacherous wife as cruelly as possible emerged in his stunned mind, but then he thought otherwise to make his revenge remarkable.
But by the time Etrius started searching for Thestese, Thestese had fled to unknown lands, thinking he had had his revenge.

Etrius sent his messengers everywhere. When he was found in Phrigia, the messenger read the missive that said that Etrius had forgiven him and was ready to return his share of the kingdom and that Etrius repents the struggle between the two brothers and desires to live peacefully ever after. The missive was full of sympathetic jargon that moved Thestese, who decided to return to Miocene, thinking his deeds were secret with him and his lover, Etrius’ wife.
Etrius organized a welcome dinner for his brother. Thestese attended it too happily and ate the flesh cooked with best spices, to his heart’s content. He had forgotten now all the pinching thorns of past in the light of the changed circumstances. He was thanking his brother for his generosity and repeatedly was telling him how grateful he would be forever to him.
But soon Olympus was about to fall on him, millions of deaths he was about to die in a brief moment.
The moment the ceremonious dinner was over Etrius’ face became grave as he clapped. In an instant a servant brought a plate covered with a silk cloth.
"Do you know you rascal what flesh you have consumed so contentedly? You have just have ate your own sons!" his voice was filled with disgust as he pulled the silk cloth.
Lifeless heads of Thestese’ illicit children were visible to the stunned gathering.
Frozen with pain and fear, Thestese kept on glaring at the heads…his eyes bulging, as if hit hard, mind going blank, no matter how he tries to recover…from that gruesome shock.
And suddenly shrieking and crying and vomiting he darted out of the palace.


Could gods have listened to his outcry? Could the Greek hearts have broken to pieces with his outburst?
O Etrius, how you could kill two innocent kids who didn't know what crime they had committed? How mercilessly could you sever them, and serve their flesh to their father? Or was it a vile intoxication mounting upon you that always had ruined our forefathers? How could the gods of Olympus bear that heinous moment or were they waiting to see further fall of humanity?
But it was just a prelude to another catastrophe. Many more sins were in store waiting for their turn. Much more blood yet had to flow. Many more dead had to reach the realms of Hades.
To suffer sever punishments!
Deceitfully who had forced him to eat the flesh of his own child…to avenge that merciless sinner Etrius, Thestese wandered on earth with an anguish…he would destroy Etrius, no matter what sin he had to commit to exact his revenge.
Time went by with no means he could have to avenge Etrius.
His soul was, as if, not deserting his body only to have revenge. The bare virtues that prevail in every vein had now deserted him. Meanwhile his own legitimate children who had sheltered in Argos had been ruined by the strokes of cruel destiny. There was no solace in his life. He was completely devastated.

Then wrecked Thestese entered the region of Sycyan. He found shelter in the temple of Athena. The nun, Pelopia was there in the service of the goddess Athena. Her tender beauty infuriated his suffocated frustrations and without paying any heed to her protests and curses he mercilessly raped her.
When he had ravaged her, realising the possible wrath of people he might invite for his impetuous sinning act, he vanished from that region to vent his frustrations elsewhere.

The dutiful worshipper of Athena, Pelopia cursed Thestese and the goddess, who watched silently her destruction and insult. Pelopia knew not how to punish the abuser of her pride. She knew it was impossible for her or her people to find that demonic man on their own. Carefully she decided to seek refuge in the courts of Etrius. She, without confiding in anybody, made the vast distance on her own and entered the courts of Etrius in rags. To the startled Etrius she described the tragedy that had befallen her at the hands of Etrius’ brother Thestese.
It was not that he had taken pity on that grief-stricken and avenge-seeking young woman … but her innocent beauty struck him. He told her how sad he was at the merciless and inhuman act of his brother and sought her as his wife, the only way he could repay the debt.
Pelopia was already bearing a child in her womb. She knew she had no choice and had to surrender before the generosity of Etrius. Soon after marriage she gave birth to a male child, son of Thestese. The monsters in the skies of Miocene were in amused laughter. They were eagerly waiting for another farce that would shatter human faiths.
The newborn child was named Egysthus. Didn't Etrius know whose offspring this child was? Yes, certainly he did. His mind never could forgive the deceit of the past… the sting of treachery still pained his heart. He was uneasy.
He was waiting.
He was waiting like a reticent mercenary for the final assault. He was waiting for that final moment… like a hunter on his prey.
Agamemnon and Meneleus, the legitimate sons of Etrius were already grown up by then. Etrius had secretly sent his men in search of Thestese everywhere whom he had once robbed of his heinous offspring.
For years Etrius didn’t hear anything of Thestese though Thestese was leaving a large trail behind him. Before his men would reach him, he would be gone in unknown direction.
But his endless search bore fruits. Thestese was finally found in Lydia.
The arrested Thestese was brought back to Miocene in humiliating conditions. He was presented before Etrius.
Etrius calmly looked at his prey.
There was no exchange of greetings between the estranged brothers. Thestese spat at him and Etrius neglecting it gave a broad smile of his final victory.
Egysthus, the offspring of a rape, was summoned.
Egysthus wondrously looked at the restrained culprit and looked at his father, Etrius, in expectation.
Etrius ordered Egysthus to behead Thestese…
An obedient son… Egysthus wielded his sword to attack Thestese…
What made Pelopia stop him who had hidden herself behind the thick curtains? What made her forgive a rapist of her own pride? Can gods of Olympus ever explain what felony human being commit? What is it that makes one so uncertain of his own objectives and determinations? What is human nature after all?
Pelopia cried before Egysthus’ sword could sweep across Thestese’ neck.
"He is your real father, Egysthus…stop, I prey, kill Etrius..."
Confused for a moment, Egysthus turned down his sword and obeying command from his mother, he thrust his sword in the stomach of Etrius.
The wind changed hastily to declare Egysthus as a winner. Pelopia suggested him to eliminate the entire bloodline of Etrius so that he can rule the kingdom peacefully. Obeying the wishes of mother, he commanded Agamemnon and Meneleus to be killed.
But the trusted servants, sensing what calamity was about to befall, sneaked Agamemnon and Meneleus safely away to a secret place.


From there began a tragic saga of survival… wandering… humiliation… and what not…
What a cruel revenge destiny was having with them.
As if the gods were sleeping dead in those moments of inhuman chaos with morals drowned in their eternal thirst for blood.
The entire world seemed to have come to the brink of final destruction!
Was there any way out?


Tormented Agamemnon tightened his grip around Cassandra. The howling storm was ripping the earth and sky apart to make the universe bleed in deluge.
Cassandra was in a doomed state… in her half awakening. Her hair spread over his chest, her face like a crescent moon could be seen in the flashes of horrendous lightning. So pure and sacred she looked under the calamities of death. He, in his hollowness, bowed and kissed her forehead.
Why am I so overwhelmed today? What is this storm that is choking my heart? Why has the unrealized pain of the past vowed to rip me apart today?



Till this day I have lived the life of an ignorant. I embraced the values of the time I was living in to open the floodgates of sins. I loved the language of revenge, of bloodbath. Never ever could I dream of anything other than revenge and bloodbath. Never ever could I dream of creation… never ever could I get thrilled with the tender sprouts that smile in the clemency of nature. Always in my heart were howling the bottomless lusts. As a king I had to deliver ruthless verdicts. Never ever could I think that there could be a life beyond these ugly horizons that enchants the soul with endless compassion, where no lust ever exist. Why did I too have to be blind to the past and future? What made me so blind when everything was so clear and obvious? Why did we have to destroy a culture and had to vandalize the sanity of Troy?
Like a torn sky, today, he wanted to cry in his intense repentance. A choked flood of emotions escaped him through a pitiable sob and then it opened a way to make him cry unbounded.
He was weeping incessantly while trying to push back the ugly memories that had deprived him of a humanly cry. He was traversing through unending passages of darkness while the intimidating huge walls were closing in to suffocate him...
Raising his hands, sobbing, he wailed, "get destroyed you evil! Let me breathe under the free sky… let me cry unhindered-"
How long he was in those emotions, he didn't know, as if the entire world was dead for him in those compassionate and yet torturous moments.


The storm outside was raging high. Sailors were in attempts to save their lives, vows were being sworn to sacrifice sheep when this deadly storm was over and they were safely back to their lands. But the sky was dark and pregnant with monstrous clouds, as if there never was a clear and serene sky behind them. It was crowded with chaos, the way it was when the universe was yet to take birth… so primitive… so uncertain…where only demonic Titans ruled the chaos… the condition was as if...


Was then there a destructive storm
So childish in its rage
And so infinite the hell
Unbound in its divine cage?

The Sun had yet to rise in the sky
Merciful moon too hadn’t adorned the firmament
The earth too was unstable then
Where existed raging Dark Ocean
From this to that horizon
So frightening was the
Lightning
Never ever then there existed
A merciful creator!


The hurtling, enraged, storm swallowed the outcry of poor Agamemnon. To all his agonies and repentance, witness was this storm…so unsympathetic.
When his deluge had ebbed away, feeling weak and drained, he sat still on the rocking bed.
"May be, I never shall return to Miocene. My sins are being punished. It was I who killed the husband of Clietimnestra to marry her forcibly. In my frenzy, I never paid any heed to her personal aspirations.
“I had been merciless enough, just to keep ancient faiths intact, while ordering the sacrifice of my own daughter to please the ruthless storm. I have sinned. How then can I claim to be savior of virtues?
“Why are the gods so hungry that despite the sacrifice of millions, they are still not pleased? How could we, the Greeks, wage a war to win back a condemnable woman, to cause the annihilation of a race? No, what right did we have to live a free life when lives of others were so worthless to us?
“Why the images of insults on the Trojan woman are whirling around me? And rape on this innocent Cassandra?
"I'm sorry, Cassandra… forgive us. We never were in our right minds!
"Forgive me dear… now you are in my mighty arms. I am repenting. No one ever can trouble you. No one is going to hurt you… dear!"
He was choked as he spoke. He knew how difficult it becomes many a times to express the feelings when everything is obscure.
Cassandra moved a little to release herself from his arms. He felt as if all of sudden energy was exploding in her. She raised her head, shoved back her scattered hair and looking at Agamemnon blankly, suddenly erupted in laughter. Her laughter startled him. He could not fathom the gravity of her crazy laugh. Was she dreaming something immoral?
"Why … why are you laughing, Cassandra?" he asked in all his ignorance.
Cassandra kept on laughing. He was trying to understand what was it all about trying to pull himself out of his own miseries.
But never ever did Agamemnon know that destiny was laughing at him through her.
He heard the lightening crashing somewhere in the vast ocean, followed by a sudden stillness that deafened him.
The storm was still raging.



14

"We have reached some island," excited captain announced the news. Tired Meneleus, who had spent the perilous days in with great effort, gathered his senses and looked at the captain, asking, "has the storm pacified?"
"Yes. The sky is as clean as a shimmering shield of our brave soldiers. What we don't know is exactly what location we are now. Never ever in my sea-faring life have I come to this strange region. The storm has thrown us out of our route."
Meneleus got up. His face was down with the immense tensions and tiredness. This was not such bad news, though. The storm had spared their lives. They had reached some coast where they could halt and repair the damage the merciless storm had inflicted.
Helen was fast asleep in another chamber. The soldiers and sailors were in their happy outcries. The atmosphere was suddenly charged. Gloom they had fought with had vanished. Life was not ditching them, now they knew and were grateful to the gods for not drowning them.
Meneleus approached the deck. Suddenly the excited chaos of his soldiers died down. The vessel was close to the rocky shore that was crowded with tiny shrubs and bushes. The water was a dark grey, unlike the lagoon; scary it was to moor in those treacherous waters. On the rocks, the huge waves were crashing and turning back, collecting the remains of their previous assault. The region beyond seemed badly beaten by the tempestuous rains.
"The coast seems dangerous and these are unknown waters. Let us circle this island and find a safer place to moor for awhile.” Meneleus ordered.
The captain nodded to the suggestion and shouted back the orders to set everybody to work.
Soon they were entering a lagoon where the water was so clear that they could see the coral reefs under the water.
"Everybody is tired and exhausted. They need rest for a couple of days. There is no drinking water aboard," said the captain in anticipation.
Meneleus nodded absently. The vessel soon was moored in the safe waters and then uproar possessed the calms of the uninhibited island.
When all the soldiers were on the land a sense of being alive that was missing them had came back to them.
"Send some men farther to reconnaissance. Let us know whether this island is safe or needs another bloodshed-" said Meneleus tiredly. The Captain assented and rushed back to make necessary provisions.
Helen, climbing up the stairs, said as if to herself, in a detached voice, "The storm seems to have forgiven us."
Meneleus had sworn not to look back at her, but his eyes deceived him. In her simple attire, under the evening sky, she seemed as if a concentrate of beauty in her divine pull.
She was now lost in her own reveries, as if in her own cocoon. She glared everywhere, with a look, as if the entire universe was at her mercy. Meneleus hated her for that moment and yet his love was so intense he instantly forgave her and kept on gazing at her through his haunted eyes. A fatal attraction towards her was enslaving him… though he abhorred himself for his imbecility and unmanliness.



The soldiers on the rocky shore were in a ceremonious mood. Meneleus deciding against stepping on that unknown island, turned his back to the island and kept on gazing at the vast expanse of the now calm sea and dazzling reflections of the stooped sun.
In fact he needed rest. The rage of nature had drained the energy out of him. But Helen too was on board and she wouldn't come to his chamber for him. He could not resist an urge of his surrendering mind, though he knew his desires were never to be fulfilled. She never would grace him with her unbounded passions, so merciless was she! And yet he could not turn back, he wanted to be on deck, in her presence, to be in his own miseries and hoping that she cast a glance at him and say something, no matter how cruel her words might be. But she, like a statue, stood immobile on the deck adding to the pains of Meneleus.
He craved to talk to her, explode at her, abuse her… slap her. He didn't know what, as a victorious husband, he should do to her, for her treachery and her adultery. Whether to address her in immense love or in mockery or in rage or should he woo her again … he didn't know. So confused was he. He knew that had he addressed her in rage she would mock him, and make him feel stupid. He had no daring to slap her…he simply could not hit her, he knew. If he wooed her, it would be contrary to his own hatred for her treachery. If he talk to her, she won't respond and that also would be contrary to his feelings of hatred…


And how desperately I want to talk to her.
How am I going to mock her when she is so truthful in presenting her point of view, unashamed, in her infuriating cold voice!
How had she conversed with Paris? What kind of love must she be overwhelmed with while addressing him, caressing him, while sleeping with him? Had she, with the same intensity, enjoyed his kisses and strokes? While being in his arms, had she ever remembered me? Or was I so insignificant for her not worth to reminisce? Did she ever adorn me with a single moment of grief on losing me?


An ache burnt so acutely in his troubled heart that he wanted to die that very moment.
His eyes were transfixed upon her, filled with an urge. Dusk was setting in. Rows after rows of gulls were ascending on palms and on sandy shores but he didn’t see anything but Helen. His heart craved for her, unknown feelings of having her in his arms were making him insane. Immense love for her was making him forgive her again and again with a pain that she didn’t at all desire his pardon. Why should she?
He felt, in his self-grilling that though she always belonged to him was always remained unattached to him. So cruel she was that in fact she never belonged to anybody…!

I do not know what I think now of you.
What did I think of you when I had seen you for the first time, dear? I'd thought of you as if Aphrodite was climbing down the sky in your form. Your existence was so intense and burning, that it was making every warrior who wooed you to sacrifice his life to please you. So deadly poisonous and enchanting and inviting was your form that knowingly I decided to get arrested in your mysterious charm.
I was not alone. All the warriors of the earth were desperately longing for you, to possess you. I too was thinking I could wage my life to make you happy. On every subtle pain of your heart I would spread the balm of my soul over it. I would do anything to bring all the pleasant moments to have you protected from evil. I would devote every moment of my life just to keep your benediction upon the world with your gracious smile.
I was overwhelmed with dreams infinite and hopes abundant when I stood in the row of suitors.
Was I desirous only for your enchanting seductive beauty or was it an urge to possess your soul too?
I do not know.
In fact I never thought I ever could understand your enigmatic mind. So mysterious is your mind than your catastrophic beauty.
I was waiting for my turn…I was noting every movement of your charm, I was scared thinking whether you chose someone before my turn comes.
I was frozen when you stood in front of me. I was gazing at you and yet I could see nothing, an ocean of passions, still unknown to me, stood between us. A mist was gathering in… my heart was pounding relentlessly. I was standing on the brink of frightening anticipation…
I could not believe my luck when you favored me over all other crazed suitors. I simply could not trust. I thought I was in an impossibly, pleasant dream… so enchanting and yet unreal.
But you were standing in front of me touching my shoulders saying -"I've selected you, Menleus, as my husband-" as if in a trance I was looking at you… I was listening to you and nothing was making sense to me… so stunned I was at that unexpected boon…
For me the entire universe had changed its dimensions at that very moment. The universe was turning in a mist to envelop me in its tender arms. In a moment I'd become the center of jealousy for the rest of the world. Everyone was congratulating me, but I could read the pain behind their darkening faces, in despair, like of the setting moon. Unfortunate Odysseus, letting out a deep sign with a heavy walk, deserted the pandal. Ajax was restraining himself hard from attacking me. In front of me stood you. Your bottomless misty eyes were transfixed upon me. I did not understand then what kind of restless ocean was raging within you… what you were expressing through your bottomless eyes…
Was it hatred? Was it compromise with the inevitable? Was it all revenge and no love? So engulfed was I in my own happiness I didn't think of anything at that time. Was I a fool not knowing that I too was opening the gates of Hades for myself?
I just couldn’t think of anything. Waves of extreme happiness were drowning me in their charm. I was the luckiest man on the earth.
So ceremoniously you entered my palace. You were cheerful then, giving regards to the old and respected ones. You were busy in your endless chatter with me, so passionate you would be when in my arms, and in bed demanding more and more from me till the dawn would break in the east.
But now I know it all was a lie
So beaten I am now, O Helen
Why did you do that?
If at all you wanted to kill me, you could have served me poisoned food…
Or you could have stabbed me dead
What did you achieve out of this severe treachery? How could you give way to this annihilating destruction?
I am in the dark ignorance… I know not anything. Life in a form of huge question mark is intriguing me. My mighty courage has turned worthless. All my ideas about life, in a moment you have terminated as being hollow.
Helen…
Instead, I should kill you. Your existence is like a poisonous creeper… you are a curse to this earth, to me.
But as if my hands have become stones, lifeless. I want you even though you have destroyed me... you have caused the ruin of a race. Why does your fatal attraction keep haunting me? Why am I so overwhelmed with fatalist sensations for you. Why does my heart crave for you, can anybody tell me?
Helen… could you waste a supple word for me? Could you assure me I wasn’t that fool, just to help me feel better?
Look ahead Helen; heaving is the vast ocean in its abundance. As if nature is in mysterious dream, spreading heavenly twilight ubiquitously. Birds are flying as if the sky sings through them, Helen… you too are a dream seen by the gods. All cruelties and sins are forgivable for your benign beauty. I always was your slave Helen… always I have forgiven you… never ever could I hate you. Couldn't forget you for a moment when you had deserted me for Paris. No Helen… did I make an issue of your fleeing away with Paris? No Helen… your abduction I made an issue of Greek pride … for you. Destructive war I waged only for you. I am breathing life only for you.
Couldn't you spare a love-filled glance for me? Are you going to prove all my efforts to win you back impotent?
So short is life, dear. So small, that one never realises when it begins and when it ends. Are you going to leave me restless forever? I too am standing in a stream of endless hopes, like my forefather but cannot drink a drop of hope. In fact you are in my possession…but do I possess your soul… your mind?
No.
Could this burning pain ever extinguish?


To control the eruptions of pain, Meneleus placed his hand over his chest. Trying to clear that gathered mist over his eyes, he looked back at Helen. She was looking at the ocean, drowned in herself. The gulls were kissing the forming waves to fly back into the sky.
"Helen-" the word escaped from his troubled heart.
She looked at him shoving aside the hair fallen on her moony face.
"What?" she asked in a stern voice, suddenly her eyes cold, angry as if on his crime of breaking her trance. Meneleus swallowed back all the words he was ready to pour upon her.
For moments Helen kept on gazing at him. The uproar of the sea became prominent in that uneasy silence. Dark shrouds of the night changed the surrounding. The muteness became fierce. Her eyes had arrested him in her detached charm. So frightening was her countenance that Meneleus cursed his call at her.
Suddenly Helen broke in laughter-
Hurt, bewildered and angry, Meneleus didn't know what he should do.
"Why are you so restless, Meneleus? You should be content with your brave victory over Troy! You have won me back, that was what all of you Greeks wanted, then why you are in misery? You perplex me sometimes, Meneleus. Be happy. You have me…in your custody. So bravely you have won me back that entire world now must be busy in composing ballads on your victory." Her voice was whipping, tormenting and abusing.
Meneleus drooped his head in frustration. No, she never will change. Why so deep a hatred does she bear in her tender heart for me? What crime did I commit against her? If at all someone was guilty it was she who ran away with her lover to establish illicit relations when she was a married woman! She knew the vow every Greek was committed to. If at all anybody abducts her after her marriage, he would be punished severely and yet she dared to run away calling the wrath of the Greeks.
If at all someone was responsible for her personal tragedies it was Agamemnon who had treacherously killed Clietemnestra's husband so that he could marry her. If at all she had to avenge it was Agamemnon …
Why me… Why?


"Helen-" trying to control his agonies and confused wrath Meneleus said, "What guilt do I owe you personally? What Agamemnon did to marry your sister was in order with our accepted values. No one did condemn Agamemnon for his forced marital ties upon your sister. Our time allows every man to gain a woman of his like by exerting his might, and the time is not the off spring of one Agamemnon or Meneleus. From ancient times the culture has been shaped and will continue to be shaped. The fact is, your sister had bewitched my brother and my mighty brother had her the way he had desired. No one can stop the mighty and the determined, not even gods!
"You talk of mind, but Helen, is human mind ever at rest? The way a courtesan’s mind keeps on changing course and ambitions, we too follow the suite. Who knows what mind is! And is it enough what we understand from the events we undergo moment by moment and what significance it has when the mind is so unstable? Our understanding is always meaningless for it always has false aspects. What you understand or derive from the war we had to wage is different and what I derive and understand of the war that we fought for years is different. Mind…it is a slippery entity, never allows us to have firm faiths. Tell me, who can guess the person one loves today would not hate him tomorrow?
"The mind is an ever-changing entity, unseen but felt and still so unreal! Women sleep with enemies enjoying ecstatic moments. Women can be bought on pieces of gold. Men can sale their soul for power and gold. So-called mind’s desires don’t rule…it is the craving for lusts that rule human entity.
“Why Agamemnon should have thought what went on in the mind of Clietemnestra? He was mad for her, and he had her. Didn't you ever listen to the praises from the world when he won her? Was the world foolish? On the vast skies of universe are written only the visible deeds, not pain or joys of the invisible mind and soul! It will only be written that Agamemnon had Clitemnestra, Meneleus won back his vagabond wife. The visible incidents only are noted, not what goes on happening in someone’s mind and even if that is noted, so contradictory it would be that no one can make out what the person was like.
"You say you had to avenge me. For what? Because you desired our clan should meet with fatal destruction? You married me to cause this vicious blood bath? What did you get out of all this? What happiness did you earn after this annihilating war?
“Paris, for whom you ran away in your purported love, is dead. So secure you were feeling in that strongest city, now that city has reduced to ashes. You have no choice left but to come with me! Again I have had you. What did you get? A perverted joy of deceiving me? A satisfaction of having had revenge?
"No Helen …no... This is not revenge you have exacted on us but you have avenged yourself too with your fallacies."
Meneleus’ voice had reached a high note… when he stopped, he felt a little relieved not trusting he had said it all.
In great anticipation he watched the stunned Helen.
As ever in her grace, she controlled herself and in a flat voice said, “You've nothing to do what I gained and what not. Tell me are you too at rest? No. So desperate and miserable you have become that now you have lost the ability of reasoning the good and bad. You wanted me back and I am here. But even after a bloodshed and unholy destruction, what have you won back… a corpse? You have brought back a body but I no longer dwell in this body. Isn't it a great mockery of your might, Meneleus?"
Again Meneleus was subdued to her dispassionate and yet infuriating remarks. An urge to slap her died the moment she had finished.
"Why, O Helen… why? I loved you like crazy, with all my soul … why did you destroy me so cruelly?"
Helen gazed at him standing still.
"Did you say love Meneleus... love. Isn’t love too a game of mind that you have just denounced so strongly? Why then we talk about mind and its myriad games so funny they appear most of the times? No one knows what the mind is and why it is so. The mind is so treacherous that it keeps on deceiving itself.
"Meneleus, could anybody love the way they express? Wordy expressions are not true. People keep on saying what they can do for their love but once they are in possession of their love, only lusts speaks. Love is a lie… the way mind is a lie! The mind that erupts for love is a false mind."
She was talking as if from behind a misty cloud that had surrounded her.
Meneleus was listening and not listening. So ignorant he felt of himself. All his attempts to convince her were being proved worthless. He was upset and yet didn’t know what he had to talk to prove to her that he was a genuine soul.
"Meneleus-" said she in the same impassioned voice. "Did I only desire to avenge your clan for the sins you people had committed to my life, my sister’s life? Yes, partly it is true but my abandoning you for Paris was not only to avenge you…it is a half-truth. In fact when Paris came to our home as a guest in your absence, I was mesmerized by his vibrant existence. In his being, a light of a nameless contentment would gleam. Not that he was only a man or handsome to bewitch me! You Greeks, O Meneleus, tend to appreciate the superficial beauty. All the Greeks were mad to have me, no matter what they had to wage, because I was beautiful. But what else could be as perishable as materialistic beauty? If I hadn't been so beautiful who would have wowed for me? Who would have raked the primitive instincts in them just to have me in their embrace, may be even for a moment? One day this beauty would have slipped off the leaf of life like a dewdrop.
"I had realised this truth when I was still young. When I attained the position of the most beautiful woman on the earth I realized, such an insignificant person was I. I had been abducted even then, when I was mere a child. They were praising me for my form and my well-carved face that one day was about to get webbed with wrinkles. Beyond my gorgeous beauty what was my identity? I went introspective when this very question had befallen me. It was a grave question I had no answer for. You were craving for my outer form and no one was interested in knowing what was my inner form.
"But at this moment this question too is irrelevant, for I could find my identity long ago, when I was in the company of Paris. In his arms, I realized that intelligence is greater than physical forms. Knowledge is great and so is conscience.
"A thirst of knowledge, to know what and why the universe is created, I felt was the prime aim I should have in my life. That only could help me be happy. I wanted that benign happiness rather than having wasted my hours in lusty sentiments. To attain that happiness, I decided to run away with Paris-"
Meneleus became speechless as he heard her testimony. He simply could not trust in her argument as, he felt, it was a sort of cover-up to a sin. Had ever she gotten interested in knowing things she didn’t know about, running away with Paris wouldn’t be the only solution. He, in an instance realized that sinners too have their own logic, no matter how illogical it might sound. Philosophy of impotence though cannot see the truths worth noting. Never ever do they feel that they have wronged. They keep on justifying their deeds.
He stood silent in a heaving ocean of those belligerent moments. He then said-
"Even then a question remains unanswered Helen,” trying to avoid a fierce debate, looking at the vast sky where the stars had just begun their eternal game. "You never can say you had no idea of the repercussions of your action, no matter what reason it had on the backdrop, foolish or benign. Didn't you know the truth that no one is free to do anything one thinks that might attract disaster? Is this world made to exact personal vendetta, for personal devilish desires, taking not into consideration the aftermath of the stupid act? You say for knowledge…for knowledge when knowing that what would befall if you run away, is a condemnable act. You have been wrong all along Helen.”

Helen looked up at Meneleus… his silhouette was dominant on the backdrop of the night sky. She said in the same flat and unemotional voice, “You dare blame me? It suits you in fact. Whether for knowledge or for lust, I courted a man I liked. Who had permitted you to chase me, find me and destroy me? Who permitted you to attack Troy? Who gave you the freedom to bring me back against my will? Who permitted you to set Troy on flames and kill millions mercilessly? You don’t try to pose as a virtuous man, Meneleus, for you don’t deserve it. Tell me, where your virtues were hiding when Hacabe was being raped, the innocent child, Cassandra, was being raped in the temple of Athena? Where were your ethics and reasoning hiding then? Wasn’t it lusting for blood and lust for flesh then? How then, do you dare ask me what it was that made me flee with Paris?”
Meneleus had no right answer.
He realised he no longer could debate with her; never ever could he win her with his feeble arguments.
And yet he didn't want to walk away from her. He was busy in reconciling his thoughts. She was on the threshold of her victory.
"Be manly, Meneleus, don't ever get entangled in the web of thoughts that weakens the daring hearts. Only the might can enslave the wandering notions."
But then he knew no might ever could enslave her. She comes from a different world. No one ever can rule her. So beyond she is of human powers. With this realisation he blamed his weakness for thinking of the impossible. Why am I getting so attracted to her when she doesn't deserve any respect? She, so adamantly, is busy justifying her heinous acts. Now he felt he was never in love with Helen, that he had gained twice but an image of her.
In reality she never belonged to him, she always was a stranger … thorny and uncertain of her own acts. He knew how he could break facades of her false justifications with solid attacks…verbal…but cruel attacks… and still his heart was so weak, he was hesitant.
Again frustration caught him, his being drowning in the dark realms of unforgiving ocean of miseries. He thought that it would be better if he were dead.
Of what use is my power and wealth? Of what use are my inspiring feats in the war? Of what use it is to me when I just cannot win the heart of my beloved wife? When I just cannot crush her ego to enslave her? Worthless is my power, my might, my wealth and all the feats!
Worthless is the life.
With these feelings, heavy like a pregnant cloud, he stood on the deck in the darkness of his ignorance.


15



The vessel stopped swinging on the waves, all of sudden…or was it all a gradual process? Quietness fell as if the entire world had vanished in oblivion.
He couldn’t bear the deafening silence when he was back to his senses. He looked in wonderment all around to confront the darkness of Hades. He frantically tried to adjust his sight just to know where he was at that moment. It took some moments. Then he looked around in awe at the soft twilight of the dawn. Cassandra was still in his arms and she looked as if a cursed fairy sleeping after a perpetual struggle with destiny.
The soldiers were mad with joy. "The storm receded. Poseidon is calmed…" they were yelling hysterically.
For some time Agamemnon too was moved with deep devotion. Now he realised he was alive, all doors were open to make his newborn dreams true! Whatever I have lost in my previous life I shall endeavor to attain it… this is only chance the gods have gifted me with.
In deep passions and faith he gazed at Cassandra. He felt as if a sacred flower, now withered, lay beside him, in mute outcry…
"It's you Agamemnon who destroyed me… wasted me."
Agamemnon sat still with his heart heavy in deep repentance. He felt, life never ever allows one to have perfect joy. No happiness ever is complete. Every moment of joy is cursed with boundless pain! We are the victorious. Under my command the warriors fought a ten year long war.
For the fall of Troy, I worked day and night. What was that intoxication that ruled my heart then? I destroyed a culture. I schemed the death of the mighty warrior, Hector. A young boy like Echelese I threw him in the burning pyre of death. The great warrior, Odysseus who brought the final victory to me, I left him behind on the island of dead. I pushed Hacabe in the cruel jaws of craziness and then death, without giving a thought to her status. They raped her before she went mad followed by a gruesome death.
Why did I fail to understand who were friends and who were strangers? Why do I now die with everybody's death, can anybody tell me why? What is happening to me? Why am I not joyous over deaths and the defeat of enemy? Why am I feeling a vast oneness in the death of all individuals, friends and enemy?
Or is it that no one is dead in fact and it is just my illusion?
Or whether I am traversing towards death and have gone crazy?
What is truth after all?
Enmity, vengeance, bloodshed and being delirious over momentary victory is nothing but falsity…why do I feel so?
With what unbearable pain am I returning back to life…anew?
Cassandra laughed at my dream… Humiliation has made her crazy. But they say she knows what is hidden in the stores of future…
What future did she read that made her laugh?


Cassandra got up after a ghastly sleep. Her face was now in intense peace that gleamed with serenity. When Agamemnon looked at her, he felt as if Eros had come alive.
"It seems that the tempest is over, Agamemnon," she whispered in a mystic voice. "Were you awake all night?"
With deep compassion Agamemnon kept on gazing at her.
"Agamemnon… I don't want any affection from you-" all of sudden she said.
"Why, Cassandra?"
"I'm scared. As if I am sitting on a rock all alone, surrounded by the enraged ocean. So scared I am Agamemnon-"
"Why? Am I not with you Cassandra?"
Cassandra shivered in her own turmoil.
"It's too late now Agamemnon… it's too late. Life is such a string that no one knows when it is going to break. So short is the time and the ocean of dreams so vast, heaving from this to that horizon in its perpetual rhythm that one never can have it in its completeness in one’s being. But listen, trickling from the Olympus is serene music… music like of the siren women… Agamemnon, to pull us in its charm. " said Cassandra in a voice that made Agamemnon shiver.
Yet he managed to say in a firm voice,
"But I will escape from death, dear, now no tragedies shall ever befall you. You are a green meadow to me in my desert-like life. I shall never abandon you. My love is not a python that has a poisonous sting of lust. It is so sacred, dear, like a flower that blooms in the sacred light of heavenly morn. Accept it Cassandra… please accept it-"
Then, drowned in his own overwhelming tears, he sat on the edge of intense emotions, where one is unafraid of anything, even death. He felt as if his own heart was eager to transform in a single word to leap out to tell her what he meant. He placed his hand over his chest to control the raging oceans of frustrations. He found no word to express, though his entire body had become an unreadable word.



“Cassandra, I feel ashamed on what my people did to you. I chose you over all other women as my share because I knew you were wronged. I thought that not only had we destroyed Troy, not only had we annihilated the bloodline of king Priam; but also we had ruined the human sensitivity of our hearts. I have set fire to not only Troy but our own dreams!
"So despaired I am, Cassandra! No more now exists in me the mighty warrior, a king or a demon. So dwarfed I am feeling now. No intoxication over the bloodbath now rules me. Like a thorny desert, the life, in its sharp reality, troubles me.
"Could you become a soothing balm to my burning soul? Could you permit me to cleanse my sins?"
Cassandra nodded vehemently in negative.
"No Agamemnon, still you are so innocent in this cruel world, though you too have been cruel in your frenzied moments. Don't you know of the destiny that destroys the ambitions of humans to laugh raucously?
Then she got up to sit back on the bed, her face pale and calm.
"Agamemnon, hopes are infinite and eternal and let them be so; but the creepers of hopes keep on floating high above in an attempt to shadow our life. It does not have roots in the solid earth. Like sea- foam, they perpetually keep on emerging to vanish forever. You need me, you say, you feel some sacred love for me, but, O unfortunate Agamemnon, the way one suddenly gets hold of rare treasure and unknowingly is followed by a merciless attack of death, the same condition you are in! No joy of possessing rare moments you are ever going to enjoy. Turn back Agamemnon… be wise...turn back- desert me… I have come with you in a form of death…try to understand.
Stunned Agamemnon didn't know how to phrase what he felt.
"You are going to avenge me? Kill me? Go ahead, Cassandra, I too am so tired of this wild race with life, let me end up now and here!"
Cassandra broke in a hysterical laughter.
"Crazy Agamemnon… crazy Agamemnon…" she said while controlling her breath and then she was lost in a trance…for a while; and when she came back to her madness, she said-" Who am I to kill you, brave Agamemnon? I am, in fact, a pleasant dream to breathe its last while riding a deathly wave. No. I'm not angry with anybody. I don't hate those who raped me in the temple of Athena. I pity those who destroyed the city of Troy and set it on fire. I forgive all those too who raped my mother, Hacabe, to make her mad. I am not sad even on the death of my brother Paris…
“Cultures keep on destroying to give way to another one. New thoughts too emerge and are forgotten on that vast canvass of time, good or bad, divine or devilish. What remains intact is the thread of the burnt past. In this burnt thread are hidden the infinite tragedies and aspirations of time. The blood and outcries of innocents are frozen in that thread…whoever has tried to understand this?
"No one ever will be able to analyse that thread, buried under ashes of the past. No one can ever understand what went on in reality. But no one can ever break this thread, Agamemnon.
“In a new culture too, the same thread continues to sow the same evil that had taken place in the past… with new dimensions maybe!
"Agamemnon, man is neither creator nor destroyer. His victories and defeats are mere illusions, for he is only a puppet in the hands of time. He has no freedom to act on his own. His actions always are so influenced by his time!
"With our own hands we have surrendered to destiny. We too are influenced by our own times. You just cannot refute the spell of time you live in.
"Don't say you feel guilty. Guilt is in your past. Remember, Agamemnon, when you sacrificed your own blood, to please the thunder god, you marked your own death! The chain of actions that led you further was not only your responsibility but of the entire Greek race. If all the Greeks were under the shadows of destruction, what you alone could do?
"The great men always are the physical form of infinite aspiration and dreams of small men, don’t you know? Why does one give credit to those so-called great men for being leaders when they otherwise are so lowly in reality and just happen to ride a wave of common sentiments or luck? Great men behave so meanly; then from where do you expect them to use the freedom and sanity of being great?
"Agamemnon, you never were a creator. In fact, it was the culture you lived in that bred you and your people. And is culture ever bound to singular existence? You are not culture but a product of your culture. Your sins can be forgiven only because you never knew you were sinning. You acted at the behest of the guidelines and you are repenting.
"How then can I hate you?
"I feel pity for you. How tired and frustrated you look. A warrior who used to roar like a lion on battleground, you, have become so tender now, like moon-rays. This is because… because now you have become an ordinary man.
"And in this new born commonness lies your greatness!
"Go back, Agamemnon. Don't worry for me. You cannot just cleanse your sins by loving me… This is not a barter. Abandon me because though unknowingly, I am your death.
"Control your emotions and throw me out in the ocean to die. Or the way Thesius had abandoned Ariyodny on a deserted island, you too leave me on some island."
A deep passionate urge upon her face was now in waiting.
Agamemnon's heart was a humble note of sorrows.
He leaned over her and said what he had to-
“ I'm hopeless now, O Cassandra. Now I know what I am. I understand now what I've been. In what quest I am now, of life? No. My life already is in tatters. No hope now dawns upon my darkened heart, dear. I've died thousands of deaths already. Shattered I am, and scattered within me. Never would I know now what actually was I? The past…so cruel and sinful…I even don’t want to know what it was that drove me towards destruction.
"But so clear everything is now before me. Life is so crystal clear that I can see the pleasant bottom of my shiny life. In all obedience I'm accepting the verdict of death… rendered by destiny, but I shall not abandon you. If you are poison, I shall bear you in every atom of my being. If you are death to me, in the same craziness, I shall embrace you.
"Dear, if at all the sacred moments have deserted my life, what for I shall repent?
"Don't we go on trampling the cursed paths of life to attain one such moment of magnanimity?"
"I never shall abandon you, dear Cassandra-"
For long moments Cassandra watched him through her bottomless eyes.
Then she leaned ahead, placed her lips over his forehead and said in a whisper-
"Now you have conquered death-"




16

Orestese was looking at his uncle in deep curiosity. Intoxicated, Egysthus was babbling. His face was lustrous with ego and false pride. Orestese actually was about to leave for the temple of Apollo with the maid, the chariot too was waiting for them outside; but as if Egysthus had arrested him, not allowing him to go…
"You know your father is coming back…” said Egystus, "Do you remember him?"
Orestese shook his head. It was over ten years since his father had left for the Great War, how could he remember his father?
Egysthus laughed raucously. The wine in his glass stirred.
"I too do not remember him. I too never have seen him ever since he ran away from this kingdom,” his face grew vicious as he spoke- "He too has not seen me since then…we were small children then, you know?"
Egysthus got up. Storming in his heart were the memories of past, making him uneasy and emotional.
"Child, your father is coming back, but does he know his death awaits here?"
Orestese was beginning to feel scared. Something evil had now suddenly shadowed that chamber. He could not understand why his uncle was talking to him in this terrifying manner. He wanted to run away from that dimly lit chamber. He had never liked this man. He didn't even like his relation with his mother. He had no daring to express his protests though his thoughts were full of hatred against this man. He was beginning to realise something heinous was cooking up in the mind of his uncle.
Looking at the stony face of Orestese, Egysthus suddenly realised he had been irresponsible in his phrases, but then he had begun to enjoy the scene he had created. He sat back on the chair and let out a thunderous laugh.
"Child, can even God Zeus kill your mighty father?"
He kept on laughing as if he had delivered a great joke. Then suddenly as if a gale stops, he stopped laughing and as if to share the newborn thought, he said in a conspicuous voice,
"Your father is a blot on humanity. You know, he sacrificed your sister, Ephysinia on the altar of the storm God. Such a young child she was! All the Greeks spit on his inhuman act, do you know this?"
Orestese knew about his sister’s sacrifice and had accepted the justification. That’s why he could muster his courage to say-
"For our sacred race and land she sacrificed her life, it was not inhuman. The gods of Olympus have graced her with a position among the stars. She was released from the clutches of this mortal life. If at all a time comes to sacrifice life for our homeland then everybody should be ready. I too shall offer myself for the sacrifice in such an event."
Trying to look sober and serious, Egysthus gave a paternal smile.
"You talk too much child…" he pondered over his heartfelt feelings that unknowingly had sprung forth in that unforeseen moment. His own childhood returned to him. He leaned forward and said in a soft voice- "Do you know boy, as a child I lived in this same palace, as a prince and future King of this country? From this very window I used to observe the merriment of people. In the same gardens I used to play. So wonderful were those days. But your grandfather robbed away those childhood days of mine. He had married my mother not for love but to use her and me to play a cruel game.
"So young I was then, younger than you, when a sword was handed over to me, to kill a man whose blood was rushing through my veins. I could have killed my real father… but destiny never allows one to go against its verdict. That day… yes, blood was spilled, but not of my father but of your grand father. Since then...since then… "
Egysthus faltered on a crevasse of dark memories he couldn’t phrase. Memories are like dastardly western winds, never stops once it starts blowing. Why I have been hurled in those dark memories? Why now they are coming to me, stifling me?
It took a long time for him to be himself again, empty of those dark shadows.
Why am I talking so much with this fruit of a poisonous creeper? Or is it that because I know his days too are numbered?
He got up again and he looked out the window.
Really, nothing had changed. He could see himself playing in the lush green grass, roaring with laughter. His eyes became wet.
Yes… The Greeks have won the war of Troy. How did it happen that they could defeat the mighty Trojans? No real message had still arrived. What they had seen was the victorious torch, lit on the summit of Mount Eda. But how did it happen? How could the unconquerable Troy fall at the hands of the Greeks? How could my judgement go wrong? I was thinking that the Trojan army led by the mighty Hector never could be defeated.
Then sprouted in him a sudden hope and his muscles twitched in excitement.
True … Miocene has won… but … why Agamemnon should have survived the war? He must have died on the battleground.
If… if at all my guess comes true---then all my hurdles are automatically eliminated. I so easily can declare myself the ruler of Miocene.
The hope blooming in him made him feel light, but the reason behind this was too personal. He never wished to undertake the responsibility of avenging Agamemnon on his own. He was a person who exploits others to his benefit. This was why he had dared to enter Miocene knowing Agamemnon was away on the war. This was why he had wooed Clitemnestra. This was why he was hoping that Agamemnon is the war. He wanted revenge but never had the guts to confront Agamemnon himself.
“Should I go out now?" asked Orestese
"Wait-" said Egysthus, pouring the wine in his glass. He took a sip and said with a borrowed enthusiasm to suppress his own dilemma, "Boy, when I killed your grandfather I was just ten years old then. Have you yet killed anybody? Have you spilled blood as yet? No, because you are a coward… gutless. I'd guts so I could kill!" Pointing his finger at Orestese he was beaming in his false pride, but it wouldn’t last long, soon his face turned grave and then contorted with pain.
"But Orestese, never ever could I understand why my mother Pelopia committed suicide after I killed your grandfather…her lawful husband. Actually it was he who had supported her when my father had cowardly raped her and deserted her.
“I kept on thinking from the day I came to age. Why life has to be so mysterious? Why my mother changed her mind at the last moment when death of her abuser was so well marked? Why did she tell me to kill my stepfather instead who'd married her when she was in distress, whatever were his intentions? Why did she forgive her abuser who had raped her… left her to endure the fire of savage destiny? Why did she do so?
"And then why did she kill herself?
"I wandered and asked many but no one could satisfy my wounded heart. Why is life so enigmatic?"
Now he was hanging by the thread of his personal tragedies. His face was contorted with pain.
"Why do people have to die? Why do they feel like killing and ready to get killed?"
Orestese was too young to answer these questions. He knew his uncle had lost his mind in the spell of wine… so irrelevant and incoherent was he becoming. And so incapable was Egysthus, to find answers to his own agonies.


"Boy, when Agamemnon came back and waged a war against me, I was a weakling before him. Tinderious, father of Clitemnestra had supported him with his mighty army to help him win back his lost rights. My defeat was marked. I had to run away like a thief from my own kingdom. I wandered from city to city… country to country. The spies of Agamemnon were hunting me everywhere. I was on the run… from Thrace to Phonesea… from Pisa to…
"So treacherous and ungrateful was your father that after routing me in the battlefield on the support of Tinderious, he killed the husband of Clitemnestra to marry her. Tiderious could not sustain this terrible shock and committed suicide."
“And see the irony of events. Agamemnon’s wife is now my lover, a woman whose father had helped Agamemnon to ruin me." Egysthus let out a cynical laugh. "An irony indeed … a great irony-"
Hearing Egysthus mocking his mother, Orestese was red with anger.
"No uncle … my mother is sacred…. My mother…"
The thunderous laugh of Egysthus didn't let him complete his sentence. Orestese, ran out of that vicious chamber, weeping.



17


When Odysseus awoke, he still felt dizzy knowing not what kind of ghastly sleep he had been in. He looked everywhere to find that the ship was moving directionless over the sea. He tried to think what might have transpired. Nothing could come to his exhausted mind. He rubbed his eyes in astonishment… what is this? Why is the ship rocking violently? Where are my soldiers? Why has a deathly calm spread on this ship? He didn't know. He tried to get up. His muscles were aching, yet he managed to take a few steps.
He climbed up the stairs. The deck was empty. He could see the dazzling waves under the afternoon sun. The mast stood tall with no sails furled. He was deeply worried. Then he heard footsteps and startled, he turned back.
It was Polymus… a ruined man.
"What happened Polymus? Where are our soldiers?"
Polymus was on the verge of crying. His face twitched and his lips quivered as he tried to speak.
"All are dead…" he said with a sob. “I told them… I prayed …I urged… but nothing would stop those fools… senseless were they-"
Polymus drooped his head in frustration. Odysseus was listening, his face stern and eyes cold.
"Now only the two of us are the survivors on this ship. They were punished for their greed. They administered some sedatives in your drink and took the ship back on the Sicon’s island. But by then dusk had fallen and the Sicon men were back to their devastated settlements. The moment our soldiers stepped on the shore, they fell over and killed everyone who fell in their hands. All I could do is free the ship and set for sail, all by myself. I could not save them. How could I when the Sicons onslaught was so terrible? They were mighty and demonic...enraged over what we had done to their families in their absence. They didn't spare anybody. Such uncivilized demons were they.”
Polymus, as he went on describing those terrifying moments before his master, slowly controlled himself and wept freely on the loss of his companions.
"But are we any different?” muttered Odysseus in matter-of-fact manner. He looked up to fathom the bright, blue sky, dotted by gulls. After a while he nodded.
"So only the two of us are alive and the journey is so infinite. Doesn't matter, friend, still we can make it. We certainly are going to reach the golden lands of Ithaca. Under our own passionate sky shall we sing the songs of abundance." Unknowingly Odysseus’ eyes welled up. “But why… why did they have to be so mindless? Why couldn't they resist the greed? Why did they have to die when they had survived the all annihilating war?"
It was torturous for Polymus to watch his master in anguish. He turned his gaze from him. He had no words to console him for he too was in the same distress. He knew not why destiny was striking them with successive blows. Tired Polymus sat on a bundle of ropes, drowned in his own agonies. The whole life is a bundle of foolish acts, thought he! Why did we trust them? Why did we promise them, to take them back safely to Ithaca? To those insane who had carried in them their own destruction? I kept on urging them? Why did they not hear my outcry?
Polymus got up and reached the water-filled drum, splashed water on his face to feel better. Then he approached the stern and from there looked at the welcoming, detached… adorable, and yet, deathly sea.
Odysseus approached him from behind, patted Polymus affectionately and asked,
"Have you any idea where we are now?"
"None. Last night was of vicious tempest. It lashed this vessel, the ship was uncontrollable and I do not know where we have drifted. There was no way to know the direction as the sky was as dark as human mind. I was all awake in fright… not sure whether we were going to see the light of tomorrow. I just prayed… that is what I could do. And… and I know not how to sail a ship. So ignorant I always was!
"Where could we be now? Reaching some land or moving away from land? All around I can see is ocean having no beginning or end… heaving in its merciless gaiety. Which direction should we advance and how, I do not know? Are we ever going to reach our home, Odysseus? Or we are going to meet with the same destiny…death?"
Odysseus ran his inquisitive gaze everywhere. The huge bright fireball was hanging overhead. From all directions, the dazzling blue ocean was heaving in its fatal invitation. Now the sky was spotless. It was gray as if blown in its own penance. Where are we… he asked himself. He had no answer though he tried hard to guess which part of sea this might be. But he wasn't the one who hopeless so easily. He looked at Polymus with his deep gaze and said in all assurance,
"True, I too don't know where we are on this vast ocean. This all part is unknown to me too and tell me isn't it our only aim to know the unknown? It is enough for now that we are alive and have a ship with us. We will know soon where we are and in what direction we have to sail, so that we reach our homeland. For now, let us keep on moving in the same direction. Let us furl the sails. Somewhere, I am sure that soon we are going to land upon some island or continent. It may not happen even but I am going to go ahead till I breathe my last. I promise you my friend, I certainly am going to take you back to Ithaca."
Polymus looked at the towering Odysseus with the same faith and obedience the way one has for the heavenly deity.
"Yes Odysseus," he muttered in newborn confidence- "we shall make it, no matter what does befall us. There waits upon, you your dear Penelope and son Telemachus! We will reach Ithaca-"
Odysseus smiled warmly. The murmur of the sea became too evident. He patted Polymus’ shoulders and then said in child-like enthusiasm- "Then let us set for the definite direction. Let us unfurl the sails and take charge of the helm. We must go on-"




Part V

18


Clitemnestra restlessly looked at Egysthus. His face was grim and eyes cold. A thick veil of uneasiness had enveloped that huge chamber. "You don't want revenge?" he hissed. "You don't want to kill that man who so mercilessly and treacherously killed your first husband you loved so passionately? You say you have changed your mind. May I ask you, why? You are going to forgive that man who so ruthlessly sacrificed your child? Shed her blood on the altar of sacrifice?
"What has happened to you, dear? Why you have become so weak when the moment of victory is approaching your doorsteps? Why you have changed your mind, may I ask?"
Egysthus was agitated with anguish and fear. His voice had reached a crescendo when he asked the last question-" Why do you have to forgive him for his inhuman crimes against you? Are you going to let me down?" his eyes were piercing her, he knew if he could not do his best to convince her, infuriate her again, he would lose everything. He had become a desperate beast.
Clitemnestra moved her eyes from him to look at the ceiling where a painting of an old man with his tiny boat in enraged sea waves.
What has happened to me really? Why so morose am I today? Where did I lose that enraged ocean of hatred I'd nourished in me for years? Where is it now? Why am I feeling so strange about everything? Why am I becoming detached to all those miserable events of my past life? Where has gone that howling tempest of rage?
What really has happened to me?


What age was I when I went to Pisa as a bride, nourishing pleasant dreams of married life? Only sixteen I think. I was swinging on the moon rays then. In my every atom was blooming a spring of youthful aspirations. In my eyes was filled intense and pleasant uproar. I was now the wife of Tentelaus… a mighty warrior. Tentelaus, a man for whom the goddess Hera too could have abandoned her heavenly pleasures… at least once. And he was my husband. Master of my tender body and ripe soul. I was the queen of Pisa. I had stepped in the world of wonders…
Tentelaus… how passionately did you love me! Cupid and Psyche too would bow in respect before our love, a love of great devotion and mutual enlightenment, as if I never was a human form. I in fact was in the world of fairies where no sorrow can exist.
They say all wonderful dreams have an inevitable curse of breaking. When I was on my way back to my father’s house after promises and tears on parting with my great husband, Agamemnon saw me. He was the one on whom my father had taken pity on and had helped him with his army to win back his lost kingdom. In a way he was my father's protégée. So burdened he was under the favours of my father.
But he was looking at me without flipping his eyelids with ill intentions. That very moment, I began to hate him. He had no place in my world. His overtures were so unbearable that I thought I should punish him. But no… I couldn't do that for my father loved him like a son and I didn't want to interfere with that relation when I knew he never could reach even the dust of my feet. I respected the love of my father for him.
But again so offensively he acted by sending me a bunch of flowers with a message that he was desperate for me… I lost control over myself at that moment. I threw the flowers on earth and trampled them in rage and told the messenger-
"Tell that fool Agamemnon, he may succeed in seducing Hera… not me."
This incident in a way had upset me. I never could understand why a man of borrowed strength could dare to propose to the wife of the mighty man and daughter of his patron in such arrogant manners?
I didn't live for a day at my father’s home to avoid any unpleasant confrontation.
When I reached Pisa, infuriated and upset, I told my loving husband what had transpired. He, to my surprise, laughed saying, "Dear, so ravishing you look that even today the emperor of gods, Zeus too will try to entice you, and Agamemnon is so young!"
His light remark didn’t soothe me for that moment but soon I forgot that incident in the warm embrace of my dear husband.
But Agamemnon hadn't forgotten me. As if I had hurt his male ego by rejecting him. As if I had no freedom to be with the one I loved. How could he expect me to commit incest?
Within a year he attacked Pisa.
Thentelaus was enraged on this stupid and unnecessary challenge of war. He tried to avoid war but in vain. Agamemnon was obstinate. Unwillingly, he too had to gather his army and counter- attack Agamemnon. For months the war continued without any outcome.
When no sign of victory for any side was in sight and with hundreds of soldiers dying everyday, the wise men came up with a resolution of the duel between Agamemnon and Tentelaus. It was decided that whoever shall win shall possess Clitemnestra.
Both conceded to this resolution. No one asked me whom did I prefer.
So deadly was that duel. Both were attacking each other vehemently, for me. It was they who were fighting but I was bleeding mortally. I'd as if no value, whatsoever. It was bloodshed and death of someone… that would decide my destiny.
I was scared as the duel became indecisive.
They were fighting with all vigor employing all techniques. The sun was hanging overhead…with a weak thread… to collapse down any moment to destroy my universe.
Tentelaus was on the winning side though so exhausted he was. He was streaming with sweat. His cloak was dusty and his wounds were bleeding profusely. Agamemnon was too young before him...so light and agile he was in avoiding the fatal attack of my mighty husband. He was filled up with an unknown excitement for the blood of my husband. Tentelous was too tired and seemed to be losing his temper.
"Let us continue the duel tomorrow-" he proposed. Agamemnon was not ready to agree.
"Hand over your wife to me and only then you can return. You are a coward, not suitable to spend nights with this delightful beauty!”
His heinous remarks made my husband so angry that he let out a frightening roar and in lightening speed his fatal blow hit Agamemnon.
His terrific blow changed the scene…Aagamemnon's shield was broken, tearing apart his vest. My husband's sword had penetrated deep in him, enough to make Agamemnon unconscious. Placing his feet on Agamemmon’ chest he roared,
"I could kill you, O stupid fool. Go back, you scum of the earth, don't let me blemish my sword that seeks the blood of only brave warriors. Never ever shall you dare to cast your evil eye on my wife or else your days are numbered-"
I knew my husband was making a mistake. He was in a frenzy of his own justness that proves disastrous many a times. From the window I was trying to tell him, “Finish this worst episode of our pleasant life.” But he was under the spell of his suicidal righteousness, of his momentary victory. He turned his back at the unconscious enemy and raising his hands at the hilarious crowd was accepting applause of his army and citizens. His face was beaming in self-satisfaction. The cheering of the crowd was so deafening that it was knocking the doors of heaven as if to awake the sleeping gods.
It went on for a long time. Agamemnon now was conscious. He was moving but so carefully. He suddenly lurked upon my husband like a ghost from the grave, holding his sword high, unnoticed by everybody as every eyes were transfixed on the joyous Tentelaus.
I yelled in fright… “Watch out, my dear husband, watch…”
He wouldn't listen.
Agamemnon, like a Satan, darted from behind with his sword.
Tentelaus couldn’t understand what was coming. He was about to turn to see what catastrophe was befalling him, in shock.
Before he could realise anything Agamemnon had chipped his head with a fatal blow.
O god… o god…
What justice providence render?
The sky shattered in an explosion and collapsed over me.
The world stopped breathing.
I died a thousand times… in those brief moments.

When I regained consciousness I found myself in the palace of Agamemnon. The priests and secretive maids told me that now I was the wife of Agamemnon.
Wife of Agamemnon and widow of Tantalus!
Tears didn't know their limits.
I thought, why at all I was alive? Why Hades, the emperor of Tartarus, was gracing me with life when his doors could open for me?
I wanted to die…
But I was still alive. Like an abjectly flattering dog my soul was not ready to abandon my body. I was abusing Agamemnon with my every breath. But for me all doors were closed. The Greeks world had accepted this unjust and forced marriage. Not only the Greeks but also my father…!
My universe had collapsed, and an impotent world was busy in praising Agamemnon who so treacherously had killed my husband. No one now was ready to remember the virtues of my loving husband. Who then would care for the destruction and humiliation of my self?
I had to accept this marriage, for I had no choice. I had to sleep with the abuser of my pride.
I accepted him, but I had resolved to destroy him.
Yes… for Agamemnon’ destruction I had to drink that pail of poison.
I gave birth to Ephygenia and Orestese… two lovely children, no matter whose off springs are they, always dearest than any other entity to a mother.
Ephyginia was a divine gift for me. Her innocent smile would remind me of the deeply buried pleasant dreams.
But had destiny left me alone as yet?
I do not know why Helen had to marry my enemy clan. And after marrying Meneleus why she had deserted him for Paris! I never ever could understand my sister, the empress of amazing beauty. She deserted Meneleus. Despite knowing well the inhumane and cruel nature of the Greeks and that wont let her be on her own, she eloped.
To get her back, the frenzied fools of false pride waged a war owing to an oath. These were same people who didn't raise their voice when so unjustly I too was abducted. So infuriated they were on the abduction of Helen. They gathered in from all cities and islands with only one intention- to bring her back and destroy those who had committed the so-called sacrilege. They were ready with all their weapons and abundant vigor! My lost pride had no value. My husband’s treacherous death was justified. Then on what ground they were challenging my sister’s escape?
For whatever reason my sister ran away on her own will, it was an insult for them, as if she had spat on their pride…
Cruel she and Paris were for them…
They had to bring her back and revenge exacted, no matter what she thinks.
She had no freedom…
The way I did not have!
Why the gods of heaven didn't punish the Greeks when so cruelly they had widowed me?
But they thought Helen's deserting them was an insult of their pride.
What else they deserved any way?
When the whole race of was rocking in the depths of sins?
But…
I still do not know why Helen had to marry the brother of my abuser. Honestly, I never knew why all that had to happen with me!
To avenge Troy, all the warriors from every quarter of the Greek world had gathered on the coast. Poseidon, knowing what sins were going to be committed by these people, was in wild rage. His unbound rage was so terrifying that it looked as if the earth would swallow the sky. He was not ready to allow these heinous people to set their journey over its chest. The sky was roaring, all the direction were thundering and mighty waves were rising mountain high…
A tumult was on.
Who was that devil who said “sacrifice…”
And that too of my child?
They sacrificed her ceremoniously.
So helpless was I!
So powerful and mighty were they!
They left me on my own to drown in the merciless ocean of grief.
O Ephisinia… where are you… what constellation you have become?
Oh, my dear Ephyginia!



"There must be some reason, Clitemnestra," Egysthus said and with overwhelming emotions grabbed her hands as if afraid he was going to lose everything unless he proved genuine in his expressions. As if this was the moment that could ruin him unless he could pursue her. "Don’t step back, my dear when the moment of victory beckons you. Do not lose your heart. I know you have suffered a lot. Nothing can compensate your tragedies but spilled blood of Agamemnon. Your life too has been so cruel with you. No solace you ever can find if you lose your heart.
“ The ships soon will begin to moor on the shores. Agamemnon, if at all he has survived the war, will step on this land in victorious sentiments. Miocene will deafen the entire world with its victorious slogans. No one is going to remember that Ephyginia, your daughter, the lovely off spring of a tragedy, was sacrificed for this victory. Revenge. Only we can punish the sinners. Together we shall rule this country.
"Why then you say, dear that you no longer desire revenge? What is it that had scared you? Are you afraid of Agamemnon…of his being so vicious?"
Clitemnestra withdrew her hand from Egysthus’s, who had held it tightly in the outburst of his desperation.
She had become a mortal form of agonies.
"No, Egysthus… no… no more…" she whispered in a weak voice.
"It is enough that I alone had to suffer. What am I going to gain by killing Agamemnon? Tell me, what am I going to get now? Are my lost moments going to come alive if he is dead? No, Egysthus. So weak I have become now that even a worm-laden dog too can scare me. True, I am feeling weak, but it is not out of fear. I fear nothing.
"This weakness screams out of my every cell and from my soul. I am a woman after all! I have lost everything… my husband, my daughter… and my life as well.
"The volcano of my rage and hatred has been suddenly extinguished. Do you know why? From revenge only revenge erupts. From sin only sins are produced. Blood always demand blood! How then a person can free himself from these tragedies that persistently befall through cycle of revenge?
"Don't you think somewhere it should stop?
"Yes, I hate him but I don't want to kill him.
"Wasn’t it so natural for him to behave the way he was raised in the society of ugly aspirations? Isn’t our entire civilization responsible for the rise of such people? What change I am going to bring by killing him when our system we are so proud of is so rotten?
“He wanted to have me. He loved me in his own ways. His love was so extreme that he didn't stop to use every tool… righteous or not. He could go to any extent to have me. He had no regards for my feelings!
"And who is that Greek who can claim to have regards for the emotions of others?
"If that was the case the Greek's wouldn't have waged a war to get my sister back who had abandoned the Greek world of her own accord.
"It is time that is responsible in which I and my sister have taken birth and are bound to the good and evil of our own times.
"If my hatred possess some intensities, Agamemnon's love too has some value. There simply is no measure to count who was great and who was not.
"I know he was always an egoist and over-ambitious. He nurtured friendship with my father in order to throw you out of throne. He did it. Like a coward you had to run away and live in destitution. He killed my husband to possess me. He deceived my father too. He deceived me too and so merciless was he when he sacrificed my daughter… his own blood too! It is not that he didn’t love Ephyginia. He loved her the way I did. But he preferred to go by the accepted rules of the society.
"So, I am confused. I know not what was true and what was not. Whether the love of my husband for me was true or the love of Agamemnon for me was true. The intensity of their love has no match. Both had their own styles of loving. I cannot differentiate in both. I have begun to see both in oneness.
“When I come to think of it, your love to me seems like a parasite’s. You are using me for your own revenge, you have nothing to do with my tragedies. You are a coward, and you stink.
"Let me sprout out of me. No more in that realm of life prominent are my personal agonies now. No longer Agamemnon too exists where I am thriving. All personal references I've erased. Now in me exists only eternal peace. So amazed I am at its benign touch. I need that peace, Egysthus, I need it so badly.
"No more blood I desire to spill-
"So easy is to spill blood! At any moment, wielding weapons to pounce upon someone and so easy it is to take and give life. But so difficult it is, Egysthus to live and let live! So easily we become cruel and so difficult it is to become forgiving.
"I wish to become forgiving. I wish to forget all that I've lost."
She stood immobile with emotions bursting in her and eyes drenched with tears. It was difficult for her to control her outburst.
Egysthus shrugged helplessly, as if he was unable to understand what Clitemnestra had said.
"It's crazy, dear!” he muttered, exasperated, not knowing how he should put his feelings, "True, the way death is inevitable, life is inevitable too. Feeling like dying a thousand times over without having single benediction from death keeps on happening in our world. But we accept life the way we accept death too. Those who crush human life for their gains are destined to die. Those who oppress human souls must die. Oppression at the hands of stronger has become the rule of our world. Your life, you forget Clitemnestra, has been crushed by the oppressors. They have destroyed you, dear, and you want to forgive them?
“No, it can not be a virtue to forgive those who keep on committing injustice. If they are forgiven, the entire earth will turn into a hell one day. The fiends of misfortune would crash upon those who are silent sufferers.
"Dear, Agamemnon killed your husband. He forcibly married you. He sacrificed your daughter and went away for last ten years to prove his bravery, leaving you alone to weep over your miseries. And you say you can forgive him?
"Forgive him if you have to, but I can not do that. Hadn't he robbed me off my kingdom and my youth? By forcing me into exile hadn't he abused my rights? One can forgive weaklings… but not to the unjust, heinous kinds! I'm going to kill him anyway.”
With cold eyes Clitemnestra looked at Egysthus, then she raised her hand slowly pointing her forefinger at him, and said in a sinister voice-
"I'm the queen of this kingdom and nothing happens here without my order. You dare not wield weapon upon my husband, understood? If you have guts, gather an army of your own and challenge him to gain what you feel is legitimately belongs to you. Be manly, Egysthus, don't think you can avenge cowardly using an infuriated woman as a tool!
With this Clitemnestra left the chamber, leaving behind a hissing snake in its impotent rage














19



Helen looked intensely at the leaping tongues of fire. The euphoric and intoxicated soldiers were dancing around the fire while singing ancient ballads. Menelues was sitting on the high rock, lost in the marsh of his own tragedies, as if the biting cold didn't bother him. Helen had wrapped a sheepskin around her body. The sound of songs and clapping was resounding in the vales and ravines. The crescent moon was rising above the trees, pouring its mysterious silver upon the dazed world. Abundant treasure of stars was scattered across the sky. The Stiks river in the sky was flowing in its ancient pace. What kind of world was this… So known at yet unknown! Meneleus was wondering whether he ever belonged to this world…. or was it an illusion!
Helen, listening to the ballads of past glory, was lost in herself, as if she was attempting to fathom the depth of her inner self.
Every thing seemed filled up with a demonic darkness. There was a bottomless world all around ready to swallow her. As if lost she felt terrified. She asked herself, where am I? Life is so scattered as if struck by a mighty gale. The castle of life has been ruined already, leaving nothing intact. Where that mighty Paris has gone? Where are those intoxicated nights of abundant love gone? Where is that great warrior, Hectar? Where is Troy which used to be ceremonious with the fall of every night? Where…where is my father…my home? What kind of life is this that I am living?
I am homeless now. I am alive only physically … that’s it. In a way I lived a satisfied life…by avenging …by enjoying every moment of beauty and realisation in the company of Paris. I enjoyed a thrill by fleeing away with Paris, knowing what calamity my act may invite. I didn’t care. I did what my heart asked me to do. I never bothered what world thought of me. I just believed in myself.
I avenged in my own way…
But now why everything appears so hollow?
But…but…
Did I really want to avenge at the cost of the lives of thousands? What did I earn after all? A curse now I've become for the Greeks and they spit upon my name and rejoice over my misfortune. Did I always carry a worm of destruction within me?
Her mind was getting muddled. She thought something was missing… something terribly wrong that has happened and she was missing.
Things were never the same the way I had thought. Why did then I glorify my avenging mission?
If at all I'd to avenge I could have killed Meneleus and Agamemnon…catching them unaware.
Revenge would have been exacted.
But…but…
Was it all for revenge what I did?
No… not, now when I come to think of it. I never lived for revenge. The fact is I could not control the fatal temptations. This tragedy has befallen because of my subtle temptations. It never was a part of revenge that I would flee with someone to insult them. In fact I have deceived myself with false justifications. When Paris came to Sparta, as a guest, never did I have in mind that I was going to use him for my revenge. I was lured by his attractive personality. I felt, in his company my nights would bloom with intoxication. I was merely a prey of lust. I crossed precincts of a host and dutilessly responded to his seductive call. He too forgot what calamity he was inviting upon him and his people by seducing a beauty of fame.
And I left Sparta with him to drown in the ocean of evil lust… so enchanted I felt at that time and justified that I was avenging. What kind of revenge that was? So emboldened I felt over my spitting on the pride of the Greeks that in my stupid acts I sown the seeds of annihilation.
I caused this calamity… I invited it… the destruction of Troy and deaths of millions.
Why I can remain detached while justifying my acts under the garb of revenge?
Her mind was overwhelmed with repentance. She felt she never ever knew how to live. How then I could forget the world I am blaming for its cruelty that was an integral part of my being too? Who had allowed me to behave irresponsibly? What right did I have to act on my silly impulses and instincts?
Loneliness had begun haunting her. She felt as if she was floating alone over the vast ocean of hatred. Memories of past forming heinous shapes, kept on pouring upon her. She wanted to scream… to stop them from crashing against her. But so weak she felt.


The cracking fire was about to extinguish. The soldiers, now tired, were busy to feast upon roasted sheep. She sat still like a frozen shadow of misery with a heavy heart.
Meneleus didn't know what he was supposed to do. He was still in dilemma. Listening to the songs of past glory he too had become a pregnant cloud, wanting to pour his feelings somewhere. He looked at the moon and let out a sigh. Where could I empty the ocean of raging emotions? With whom could I share them? Why I feel so heavy and choked?
Helen… was so away from him. What sat on a rock was a corpse of Helen. She couldn’t be the real Helen he had loved and was so proud of. She always belonged to someone else. She always despised him. And yet, like an obstinate dog, his mind was racing towards her. He could not resist an urge to speak to her, though he knew she would inevitably neglect him.
He got up and with heavy steps, and a heart confused he approached her.
What should I say? Should I tell her what this mysterious night has aroused in him?
"Helen-" after a while he whispered, "it's too late now. Let's go and have a sleep."
Cursing his deceitful mind he waited.
Helen looked at him. Her face seemed as if a bloomed lotus in moonlight. A form of human miseries was unfolding through her. A temptation to bend and touch her hair to console her suddenly gripped him, but he stood still on the edge of indecisiveness. He wanted to say her - forgive me. I've killed Paris whom you loved so deeply. We never had the right to decide as to whom you should love. We all had gone crazy. We spat on humanity… we are a shame for this world. But all is done and no one can go back to repair the mistakes. And didn't Zeus have punished us too?
Haven't we too witnessed our friends and kin dying on the battleground for the last ten years? I too might have died on the battlefield. We never knew whether we would ever win the war and reach our homes. See, the tempest has propelled us on this unknown island. Aren't we caught on this island, knowing not when we shall reach our home? Aren't we too are desperate and exasperated and still fighting for life? We have been punished – a suitable punishment it is. But can’t we ever learn and make a new life from our ruins?
But his melting courage didn't allow him to speak, instead he stood still in those moments of uncertainty and despair.
Why I am so scared of her?
I love her. To get her back I had to wage a destructive war that finally led to my own destruction. And even then why so weak I am before her?
He turned back in frustration.
He felt as if gods too have no power to make her submissive. She is a sacred flower bloomed on this mortal earth. Her dreams and aspirations cannot be scaled with our earthly measures, so out of world she is. Let us console ourselves with the fact that it is our luck to have her among us.
"Meneleus-" her heavy voice startled him. Not trusting his own ear, he turned back as if mesmerised.
"Helen?" unknowingly he called her.
"Desert me on this island, Menials," said she getting up, unwrapping the sheepskin and letting it slip down. The cold winds scratched her bare shoulders. Menleus bent down, gathered the sheepskin and again wrapped it around her despite her protests.
"Why?" he asked in inaudible voice, so confused he was.
"I don't know. I just don't want to go back. Leave me her alone… let me die, Meneleus-"
The helplessness in her voice had startled him. He felt an impassive, stony statue was melting in front of him. No… he never had expected her to be so helpless… weak…!
"Are you crazy, Helen?" He asked in a choked voice. "It's you who make our life complete. It's you who enhance the value of our mortal breath."
Helen stood still, her self in tremors and on the verge of weeping.
"Don't you hate me, Meneleus?" asked she in a tremulous voice.
Meneleus nodded vehemently.
"I loved Paris. I dedicated my soul and body to him, even then? For a sinner like me a war was fought and a culture was destroyed, even then you don’t hate me?"
"No-" said Meneleus slowly, "Not for a moment did I hate you. The destruction is the result of our blood-thirst and false pride. We made a grave mistake by making of your abduction an issue. I never had physical yearning for you… I wanted you to be mine with your soul. I know I have won the war, but I could never win you. I pined for you every moment in last ten years, dear…"So intense was his voice.
It was those precious moment that he didn't want to loses. His heart was pouring out. The emotions he was never able to describe were now exploding within him with new references. So uncertain was life and the uncertainty that had built parapets of detachment around him were collapsing. Only sobs escaped from his mouth.
"This shouldn't have happened," she said. "I am responsible for this destruction. I am responsible for the end of a culture. I know everybody hates me now and in future too they are going to despise me. I spat on the sacred thread of relations. All the time it was lust that maneuvered me! Meneleus, death is the only suiting punishment for me. I am born with the curse of living by drinking the blood of my own people. Futile was my lust, my revenge and belief of being supreme. So lowly was I in fact. If I die… the vicious cycle of heinous deeds shall come to an end. Let me die, Meneleus!"
Her voice was broken. Strings of tears were streaming down. Meneleus instinctively stepped ahead and wiped her eyes with affection. He held her close. His dilemma was solved. Helen was never a stranger. How could she be? He took her in all forgiving arms and whispered,
"Everything has gone wrong, Helen. Not only you, we all have wronged too. We were always blood thirsty, and when this evil thirst gets hold of a race, they get busy in finding excuses to spill blood. It was no fault of yours. You acted upon your own instincts - right or wrong - who is to judge? It was our fault. We found excuse in you. Yes Helen, if at all someone is guilty it's we. But what use repenting, cursing and hating?
"Why not begin life again with new zeal as if nothing had happened in the past? Can't we forgive each other? Can’t we rebuild what had been destroyed at our own hands?"
The passions with which Meneleus spoke was so intense that it was tearing him apart… to vent all that he had stored in the dark vaults of his heart.
Helen looked at him through her bottomless eyes and then rested her head over his chest. A sob escaped her and then like a child she wept incessantly, drenching him.
Under moonlit night Meneleus held her tightly, with deep compassion. With selflessness, with love, with gratitude!
Helen was never away from him, there never was any strife, and there never ever was estrangement. The blood that had been spilled was just a nightmare.
The only truth was… Helen belonged to him.
Then he too broke in tears.
The night was frozen, witnessing a sacred moment that graces the earth so rarely.
20


"Where have we come, Odysseus?" asked worried Polymus, looking at the approaching stockade of rocks. The ocean was crashing against the rocks vigorously only to scatter back with deafening sound. From infinity, this unending battle was going on. Gulls were soaring high. No where he could see the signs of any human existence. A mist was rising to challenge the heights of the cliffs. As if stirred by the mighty demon, the water was wildly heaving on the coast.
"I don't know-" said Odysseus running his gaze everywhere. "May be, this is an island unknown to us. Let us see somewhere there must be some human settlement on this island."
Polymus in his despair couldn't believe his master. He had lost all his hopes. He thought that they were just wandering upon the vast wrinkled chest of the ocean with no direction.
“We are lost, Odysseus-" he said in a wail. "I have lost all hopes that ever we could reach to our lands. This island seems dangerous, it is impossible to make it to the coast through these deadly waves and rocks. We should turn.”
Polymus was sitting on the wet floor of that battered ship. Hunger and thirst was killing him. For months (or whether it was years?) they had been wandering on the sea in the hope of finding their land. So many islands they had come across… but all wrong ones, unknown to them.
Where was the sacred land of Ithaca hiding from them? How far and at what direction was their country? Why the curse of Poseidon had to be true to this extent?
"Don't get scared, Polymus-" said Odysseus, licking his swollen lips in vain attempts, trying to think where he could moor this vessel on this precarious shore. "All lands belong to us! We are the first civilised visitors to step on unknown lands! To find something new… to step on it first time is so exciting, no other joy can reach that heights! We are taking the challenges and this is why we are alive! Why then to get scared? Let us moor somewhere on this coast, let us find if there is any human settlement on this island or again we can start our journey.”
Polymus had lost all his strength, even of thinking. Resting his skeleton against the wooden wall he closed his eyes to confront the dark miseries.
Odysseus maneuvered the vessel applying all his skills through the hostile gaps. Waves were stronger, throwing the vessel back and forth like a toy. The roar of waves grew deafening as the vessel moved ahead. He couldn't afford to hit the surfaced or hidden rock. The vessel was tilted to the left and was taking suicidal course. Odysseus, with all his might, tried to avoid any collision with the towering rocks. He was frantically using the helm… the waves were dangerous and the water agitated. He was perspiring as he applied his remaining strength…but he avoided that inviting rock, and skillfully navigated the ship through the narrow passage where the waves were rushing ahead with deadly force towards the cliff that rose from the depths of ocean bed. Odysseus didn’t know what he had to do to save their lives… and this precious ship.
He was not the man to give up. He studied the speed of the whirling water, its force, direction of the waves that might throw his ship towards cliff. Perplexed, he waited, then suddenly, when the right moment approached, he turned the helm. The water pushed them in other direction, towards a bend where the cliff was curved in a half circle. He didn't know the depth of sea here. He could not risk anchoring. He sailed his ship ahead, towards the bend. The formations of the cliffs and rocks were a personification of the death god! The water grew more dangerous as the ship moved ahead.
But then he looked at a rock, protruding a little high above water. He knew this could be his last chance, dangerous and risky, but a chance. He took hold of the rope and in frenzy threw it around the protruding peak of the rock.
There was a sudden thrust and the wooden planks of the ship started cracking. But gradually the ship became stable.
Odysseus wiped out the streams of sweat from his forehead and looked at the cliff.
He looked back at Polymus who had been unconscious for a long time, unaware of the struggle.
Odysseus tried to revive him with splashes of water. Polymus opened his eyes and took some time to grasp what had happened.
"Come on, friend, let us have another exercise. We need to make this terrible distance fighting these volatile waves. We have to or we are perished, gather all your strength. Come on."
"I can’t … I just can't…" bellowed Polymus in his weak voice.
"You must come, friend…. I will help you-"
The vessel was dancing viciously on the waves, but the rock was still holding the ship safe.
And yet they had to jump in that agitated water. It was too a small distance and so impossible it seemed to make it.
Odysseus jumped in the raging water, he helped Polymus to remain afloat, riding a wave that could push him ahead towards the cliff. Carefully, applying all his strength, he swam towards the cliff. Constant onslaught of the waves had created several coves and holes in the cliff. The waves crashed against the monstrous cliff and roared back in vicious force not allowing Odysseus to reach it. He was gasping for the breath, his legs were numbing. Frustration was mounting on him. He kept on struggling, trying to find a way but now the waves had taken control over him and threw him towards a huge rock. Odysseus’ body swerved, rotated over the waves and hit against a boulder. He was become so numb that the offshoot of pains didn’t trouble him. Desperately he tried to grab something so that he was not flown back. As the wave began to recede his hands ran on the boulder, clustered by thorny dead shrimps, cutting deep in his palms. But he had found a support and held on to it.
“Polymus…”
A thought appeared in his exhausted mind. He frantically ran his gaze all around. The scene ahead was disheartening. Polymus was nowhere to be seen. He closed his eyes in exasperation. “So I have to go ahead on my own…” he mumbled in deep grief. Standing there wasn’t safe as waves after waves were crashing in. Slowly he advanced towards the bend.
As he neared the bend, he saw Polymus lay sprawled on the corner of a rock.
He sighed with relief.
Increased his pace towards Polymus.


Holding Polymus on his shoulders Odysseus approached the rocky coast that led him towards the safe lands.
In the evening glow Odysseus stepped on the smooth, lush-green land. Wild sheep were grazing in their own ecstasy. A strange and yet inviting atmosphere made him forget the perils he had just been through! In the slanting light entire land was charged with green-gold. Where pastureland was descending he could see a flock of cranes and herons fluttering their wings.
"There must be water-" he muttered. His entire strength had been drained out. But still he had not lost his vigor. He advanced with deep yearning towards the water, deploying his lost strength…
When he approached that inviting lake, dusk had become dense and a light music of the ripples crashing against the shores was only proof of life in that vicinity. So assuring was that faint sound.
He helped Polymus sit and before accepting the invitation of life, he tried to control his breath. He looked at the water…life-giving water he had been denied for many days.
He took his time. When he felt he was under control and could drink, he crawled up to the lake. First he dipped his mouth in the sacred waters and that heavenly, life-giving touch made him feel resurrected.
Then he drank to his fill. It was so benign he, like a starved creature went on drinking. When satiated, he turned back, and with heavy heart looked at the sky which was mingling in night.
After a while he got up and reached Polymus and helped him to the water, and splashed it on his face.
Polymus too seeing the water drank to his hearts content.
Both now spread themselves on the seductive, green grass. Odysseus kept on looking at the infinite sky being adorned by heavenly lamps. He felt he was lost in this eternal show. His own existence was nowhere to be found in its vastness. The past as if was non-existent. The recent war they waged was of no importance to this vast expanse of universe. Not those ten years had any significance on the canvass of endless time!
All that had happened was an illusion of my wandering soul.
Nothing was true!
Then what is truth? Why I am like a destitute wanderer who lives on the mercy of nature? Why am I thrown away off path when so desperately I am attempting to reach my homeland?
Nothing could be true but a dream of my tired mind.



Suddenly a towering pillar of light emerged in that darkness to blind the entire universe. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and yet he could feel there certainly was a volcanic light, pure, which was advancing at great pace towards him.
From where this light has emerged? He tried to think; but all thoughts seemed frozen. His mind wouldn’t respond. He felt his body too was a dead stone. The light was pouring upon him with a benevolence. He was trying to hold himself from falling in to its charm yet so helpless was he! He could not understand what miracle it was. In his utter bewilderment he kept on watching that pillar of light falling upon him.
Am I drowning in this ocean of light? And what is that mysterious form, he tried to look carefully, but failed. Then he heard a laughter. Is this laughter mocking at me? What miracle is this?
But light was spread everywhere. There was nothing he could make out of those mysterious forms. Was it an illusion, he didn’t know.
But he could listen to that laughter-he could feel someone was around.
“Welcome, Odysseus, in the realm of Calypso. Here all your wandering and pain reach an end. Bury all your miseries, O mighty Odysseus, and rest in my rule for infinity. My love, I welcome you!”
Then he felt a sky-like vast face, bright and dazzling, bending over him. He felt he was in a dream… soon it will be over and I will be stark awake to confront the worldly challenges. I hate this deadly light.
But he couldn’t think anymore.
His mind was in the arrest of unknown. He was at the mercy of someone.
He realised this before he lost his consciousness.



21

Agamemnon was euphoric as he watched the approaching coast of Argos. The soldiers and sailors were excited and uproarious. After eleven years they were coming back to their homeland. Memories of their near ones were crowding in their choked heart. Their hearts filled with uncertainty and despair was now in sudden frenzy of joy. All memories of the horrifying times of war were calmed in that benign moment of reunion. They were becoming crazy to meet their folks, to know what happened during their long absence and to recount the stories of the horror and bravery in the war. The children must have grown up, could they recognize their own blood when they meet them, thought those who had longed for that moment. Those who still hadn’t married and had their love left behind in tears were scared whether their love still waited for them or had married someone else.
It was a new turn of life after spending precious years in devastation. They were victorious, yes, that appeased them and yet on this transitional moment they felt how difficult now it would be to connect the lost links of life.
They were happy, and their noise had set up a great pandemonium. They were intoxicated with the anticipation of the approaching moment. And yet apprehension of what awaited them.
The land was approaching fast. The people of Argos too had seen their fleets coming back. The news had spread in the city and everybody, old and young, were rushing to the coast. It was a great moment of joy for everyone, with the only fear scaring them…whether kith and kins survived the war.
They were rushing towards the coast assuring each other everything will be all right, their men folks will come back safely. They didn’t want to be disappointed but deep in their heart they knew their hopes might prove false, but what else they could do? Nothing was in their command.
The shore of Argos was filled with exhilarated hearts.



Cassandra’s face became grave as the shore approached. She looked at Agamemnon, her eyes desperately pleading.
“Still we can go back Agamemnon… think… its death that awaits you.”
Agamemnon compassionately patted her shoulders.
“We are back to my kingdom, dear, I shall shower all the happiness upon you.”
“You won’t listen to me? she asked in a weak voice. Her face was becoming pale.
“What it is that scares you? Forget the nightmares of the past and enter into a new, bewitching life with your head held high. This mighty Agamemnon now has taken you in his care. No vicious jaws of life shall ever scare you.”
Cassandra hopelessly nodded. She knew the curse of Apollo would never desert her. No one would trust her prophecies.
Both were on deck. The ships were being moored along the pier. The crowd was growing euphoric with a tint of fear. Their eyes were glued to the ships and at the men they felt they recognised as their own. Life was hanging on the thread of uncertainty.
Their hearts were trembling with the unbearable suspense.



Clitemnestra stood on a platform, looking curiously at the battered ships being moored. Bards were singing the ancient ballads in their welcome. She instantly recongnised Agamemnon and in a frenzy of joy she raised her hands. She felt choked for she had forgotten all the evils of the past and was so desirous to begin her life anew.
Agamemnon too was looking for her anxiously and she was desperately trying to attract his attention. She was getting angry with the maddened people but knowing that no one could control them today, kept on looking at the frail figure of her husband.
Then her eyes fell upon a young woman. Her eyebrows were raised. Her legs became weak in sudden apprehension.
There was commotion on the coast as soldiers began coming down, searching for their relatives and when found them rushing at each other in immense joy… weeping and crying and hugging. In a few moments the entire gathering had become a huge ocean of joy and sorrow! The oceans of emotions were raging there. It was a blend of loss… attainment and frustrations. Who had their loved ones back, had began to walk home, lost in their own new world.
Clitemnestra, not able to bear the suspense and in sudden apprehensions, climbed down the platform, stopped a soldier and asked in an urgent voice- “Who is that woman accompanying Agamemnon?”
The soldier was startled as he was in his won reveries. When he heard again the question he said – “Who else but Cassandra, the daughter of king Priam.”
“What is she doing with my husband?” she asked closing her eyes, her mind tense.
“She is the prize of war, your majesty. She is now the mistress of Agamemnon.” And with this he advanced with his parents in a hurry.
She was stunned and felt drained out. The self-raised ramparts of protections seemed so feeble that she felt she always was foolish to believe that she was in command of life. The universes began to rotate in vicious speed around her. She grabbed a passer-by to save herself from falling.
Clitemnestra stood there with closed eyes, fists clenched, trying to bear the ruthless strikes of lightening. She felt as if she was being shattered, someone had hit a solid punch in her stomach. As if her life was draining out of her. Why I am alive then? To what vicious crevasse my life has stepped over?
Life was slipping out. There was nothing that could support her. She was shocked… dazed… fainting. Any moment she would collapse.
She had never anticipated such possibility. She herself could do whatever she desired with her own life. There never was any place left for anybody to harm her. Agamemnon had no right to claim the body of other woman. He must remain at her mercy, whether she loved him or not. He couldn’t possess any other woman… why he should? It’s me who decides his fate… not him. He has made me a laughing stock.
Hadn’t she forgiven him for his brutal attack on her life and pride? Shouldn’t my forgiving him give me complete control on his life? And he has come back again in my life with another woman. He has stabbed me.
He has proved treacherous, after all!
For a long time Clitmnestra was fighting with herself.
But suddenly she began to be filled with a vicious rage. You’ve no right to live…. Nobody has right to deceive me, over and over again. No one can throw on me embers of pain. I shall not forgive you now. You certainly deserve death. You have destroyed my life. you have stolen the sacred moment of forgiveness from me.
No Agamemnon…You deserve death!



The crowd was looking at Agamemnon with immense curiosity. He was standing on the steps of his palace. The wind was blowing in eager pace. Cassandra stood beside him lost in herself. Her eyes were looking into emptiness. She was hearing the loud footsteps of the inevitable. She wanted to yell, but how weak she felt knowing the futility of such an attempt. She had surrendered to the cruel destiny. She was now cursing Apolo for his ruthless curse. No one was going to trust her. So tiny and miserable she felt before the might of destiny. She could see and yet could not stop anything. On what inspiration people live on the hollow, slippery foundation, she didn’t know. How they cannot see the violent beasts hidden in the womb of future? Why? Why they keep on advancing at it spellbound?
She brooded over her own miseries.


Agamemnon, a volcano of erupting emotions of gratitude, happiness and pride, raised his hands and the mob became silent.
“O the residents of Athens, we’ve come back carrying victorious flag over our shoulders. But so sad is our sky today!
“O gentle hearts of my kingdom, thousands of lives we have sacrificed at the feet of goddess Athena during the war. We have suffered the tournedos of infinite sorrows and wrath of our tragic destiny. It was not easy. My heart weeps for those who had to lose their lives the battle.
“But we are victorious!
“The path to victory is always through heaps of corpses and outcries of blood- thirsty beasts! Our path to victory too was so difficult, so painful and tragic!
“Troy and their ugly challenge on our pride have been destroyed now. O the people of Argos, Zeus is now satisfied!
“We are victorious!
“But now my heart repents on what we have lost. We have lost too much. In our hearts, we have brought the inextinguishable fire of grief. We have lost our friends and relatives, a whole generation and ten years that never can come back.
“Time and death are not in our control. So worthless are we before the almighty time. Victory no longer charms us now. The moment of victory always makes one introspective. Yes, we behaved like petty creatures. How mean were we, we realised when we knew we had won the war.
“Could this war take us ahead?
“Yes… it has to, I say it must. We must bury our wickedness. Must we learn now, enough is the thirst for blood. It is despicable. No eternal joy the bloodshed can ever gives us. We were mindless to wage war to gain back a false pride. It was spell of our false sentiments that ruined not only Troy but also the morals that we had worshipped.
“Yes, we didn’t act like humans.
“Let us learn a lesson. We must live like human. This is time not to celebrate victory but to repent.
“Let us repent together-”
With this Agamemnon turned his back at the stunned gathering and climbed up the stairs.
He was tired.


“Dear Clietmnestra,” He advanced with immense love towards his beloved wife. Long years of separation were making him crazy for her. He was about to embrace her but she stepped back. Her face was stony and eyes detached. As if her entire feelings of longing had burnt to ashes. He failed to realise the change as he had gone blind in his emotions.
“Ten years, dear… for over ten years, I was away from you. I know, you are angry with me. You deserve to be angry, my love … but I remembered you every moment… while waging war and while resting in my miseries and uncertainties. I didn’t anticipate war to prolong that far.
“Forgive me dear. I’m longing to have you in my embrace.”
He again advanced with expectations. But she raised her hand and stopped him. “You stink, Agamemnon,” she said in a cold voice.
He was shocked. He looked at his body. True, his apparel was withered. Though he could not smell himself, he could imagine being on sea for a long time must have made him a stinking creature.
He tried to make his face, then laughed loudly.
“You are right, dear. I must have a bath first and wear fresh cloths. It’s the sea dear…” he said and walked towards the bathroom with his deflated soul.
He could not sense the change in the atmosphere. He could not read the chilled eyes of his wife. He could not understand why the maids looked at him strangely. He didn’t know where his son was…
He had forgotten to ask and when he realised, he had no daring to turn back and ask Clitemnestra.
He just didn’t realise Clitemnestra was following him to the bathroom.


When Clitemnestra begun to help him undress, his deflated spirit was came alive. In excitement he began to tell her what happened in the last ten years and how Helen was won back. She seemed so uninterested.
As Clitemnestra undressed him, she felt how stranger he looked with his emaciated body decorated with scars.
With deep yearning, Agamemnon sat in the silver bathtub filled with hot water. The velvety warm touch of the water sent waves of immense pleasure in his body. In deep satisfaction he closed his eyes. Tiredness was rushing in, telling him how ruthlessly he had overlooked it.
But now it would be all right.
He closed his eyes in immense pleasure and leaned back trying to immerse deeper in the water.
Then he heard the footsteps of a stranger.
He looked back.
He could not understand who it was.
“Who are you? How you could dare to…” he shouted.
The stranger let out a raucous laugh.
“Didn’t you recognize me, Agamemnon? I’m Egysthus. Egysthus, whose kingdom you robbed away to make him a destitute wanderer.”
Agamemnon looked with distrust at Clitemnestra. She was looking at him with her detached eyes. Now he could read the sinister feelings she pierced at him.
Instinctively got up.
Where is my sward?
He could not find it.
The reality struck him making him feel how he was fooled.
Never ever had he dreamt that he could be subjected to the treachery.
When he found what awaited him, he closed his eyes in frustration and asked, “Why Clitemnestra, why?”
She wouldn’t answer. Instead, she leapt ahead. In her hands was a dagger. Not allowing him to recover she stabbed it in his chest with all her force.
Trying to stop the gushing blood from his chest with his hands, Agamemnon walked out of tub staggering.
“No … dear… no…you can’t do this.” he yelled but so weak was his voice.
…She looked at him with the same detached look and said- “This is for deceiving me, for making Cassandra your mistress.”
With this she stabbed him again in the stomach. His knees buckled. He collapsed in a pool of blood, yet his pleading eyes were fixed on Clitemnestra in disbelief.
“No, dear… no… Cassandra…is a godforsaken child…no…how could I do that? Never ever I looked at her with lust. You should have asked me first…dear…”
Now it was Clitemnestra’s turn to look at him in disbelief. It is a lie she tried to tell herself. It could not be true… it was him who had spat on her. But…but…did I react in hurry? Was it a grave mistake?
Why I am feeling so dumb… so humbled? What are these explosions? What is this pain striding my depths to occupy every atom of my being? She looked at Egysthus, advancing in measured steps towards Agamemnon with his sword wielded high.
“Stop…” she wanted to yell, but her entire being was out of her control. Then she tried to raise her hands to stop him but she couldn’t. Her eyes were bulging, as she looked at Egysthus moving with his sinister motive.
“This is for you, Agamemnon, for robbing me of my throne.”
With this Egysthus’ sword fell upon Agamemnon. His head was split apart.
His body vehemently shuddered for the last time to enter in the benevolent realm of Hades.
Egysthus looked spitefully at the hideous corpse of Agamemnon in those moments of his ultimate victory. He ensured that Agamemnon was truly dead and throwing his sword he looked at unconscious Clitemnestra.
He was smiling.
He took her in his arms and went to another chamber.
This was the moment of fulfillment.
He had avenged finally!
Now the kingdom of Miocene belonged to him.
The wife of his enemy too belonged to him.
Now he had to eliminate Cassandra and Orestese to make his way clear forever.
No other generation would pose threat to his rule!






22


The palace of Calypso was dazzling in golden rays. Odysseus didn’t know from where the light was pouring. He, like a floating feather, entered the exquisite doors of the palace in extreme peace. He could see a mysterious aura radiating from every object. An unknown fragrance had speared everywhere. It was an astonishing world… unlike of his own.
He looked in bewilderment at an exquisite form leaning over an emerald studded bed. Her body was beaming through her every curve, bedazzling him.
“Come on, Odysseus,” she said in her spellbinding voice. “For ages I am waiting for you. Come on, O son of Sisyphus, take me in your warm embrace.”
Stunned Odysseus kept on looking at her. He didn’t expect such an invitation from that fairy. He watched her getting up from her bed. She stood before him and in explosive emotions she grabbed him in her warm, soothing embrace.
“How long should you wander, my warrior? How long you should suffer in the oceans of pain, my dear? I was watching your strife from this world. I have observed you waging war against destiny. I have heard your outcries.
“But now everything is over. Rest in my eternal embrace!”
Odysseus was dumbfounded. He didn’t know how to react. He was trying to understand what new calamity was this. Yet no thought was coming to his empty mind. He kept on looking at her in bewilderment.
“Who are you?” he asked finally.
“Don’t you know?” she asked in surprise. Then she broke in to a laughter which resonated like tiny bells. “I am Calypso, Odysseus. I am the daughter of Atlas and Thesis. This is the world I have created with the powers graced by my father. I am an eternal existence. I am the creator, O Odysseus, of this universe!”
Odysseus in all his confusion and astonishment sat on a chair. With his transfixed eyes he kept on looking at the mesmerizing self of Calypso. Now he knew who was she. So fatally attractive she was.
He didn’t know what was expected of him. What was awaiting him? Or was it another illusion?
He gathered his mind and asked in a tired voice, “Why are you so compassionate with this ordinary mortal, Calypso?”
She let out her benign laughter. “How long I have been watching you, O Odysseus. In your destruction I could observe your true being. Ever since you had marched to Sparta with infinite hopes that only you would be Helen’s natural choice, I have watched you. I have seen how, despite all your great wisdom and virtues, Helen did not choose you. I have seen you, your defeated face so pale and subdued!
“Yes, my warrior, I’ve seen the eternal raging war within you… between your own greatness and your meanness… a war so tragic. Only I was witness to your lonely weeping, your cunningness and your strength, and of your silent love and of your tragedies.
“You are a perfect man, O Odysseus. You bear in you the best and worst of humanity. Never ever I have seen you repenting over your misfortune. You went on inventing new ways to achieve your aims tirelessly.
“You never repented on your deeds. I haven’t ever seen you worrying over your misfortune. You had guts to challenge the rule of gods! You even challenged death! You overthrew the verdict of destiny. You invited the wrath of gods but you never bent before their wills.
“That was the moment when the sun of love for you rose in my heart.
“What was there in that mortal Helen? She was destined to become old and die one day. What other destiny people of Troy had but destruction? Sin calls for sin. Blood demands blood! This is the rule of your world, and no matter what heinous outcome of your deeds are you people commit same mistakes over and over again.
“The war you waged was to prove the virtues and determination of the Greeks. All those who had secret dreams for Helen joined that war. You too did the same. What is wrong with you the human being is that you hope for the impossible. It was all annihilating war to prove that personal tragedies no one can ever conquer, no matter how much blood is shed. Humanity reached bottoms of worthlessness. Did anybody learn anything from this? Except you? I’ve seen them all perished.”
“Perished? Who perished?” Startled Odysseus asked.
“Agamemnon.”
“Agamemnon?” He was stupefied. “Who could kill him?”
“His own wife, Clitemnestra and her lover Egysthus,” said she in flat voice. “A circle of sin now is complete. Orestese is now wandering in curses that have befallen over him. He has vowed that he shall kill his treacherous uncle and mother some day.”
“But why should Clitemnestra kill him?” he asked in defeated voice.
“Reasoning no longer exists when a person is vindictive,” she said in the same passionless voice.
He was in a mute agony. For two years he was fighting his way through tragedies to reach his own land. So much pain he had borne. He was tired. His mind was not at rest even now. What is it that leads mankind to self-destruction? He was baffled like a child witnessing a horror.
As if reading his pained mind, Calypso said in her tinkling voice-
“I was witness to your humiliation at the hands of your own people at Troy. I had seen you recklessly raping queen Hacabe to make her crazy. I am witness to the disrespect you received from your own soldiers on Sicons Island. I seen how destroyed you were when you failed in your commitment to take each one safe and alive back to home.
“I’ve seen from here, your desperation while coursing the unknown land. I’ve experienced your unending strife with the tragic destiny…
“Didn’t I see how you defeated that illusory and deceptive Cesy? With all your argumentative cleverness? Didn’t I watch you breaking the web of her mesmerizing love?
“It was I, brave and clever Odysseus, who witnessed a miracle unperformed before by any living soul. To meet your mother, I saw you knocking the doors of Hades. The Lord of death too had to surrender before your mighty will. You met your mother and I sensed my heart too had become a drop of tear when I witnessed the infinite love.
“Odysseus, among all the Greeks, you are the only one with a strong conscience. Your moral is in right place though you too have sinned. Infinite courage exists in you. Your ambitions know no boundaries. You only know the futility of life. You have in you all virtues and vice of the society and still you have unending zeal to know why virtue is virtue and evil is evil. You are a complete man…
“And now you belong to me-”
In her resonant voice was filled deep compassion. With her soft words she was applying balm over his wounds. She leaned over him to hold him in her moony embrace.
“O Odysseus, my love, this universe is my belonging; so lonely though I was here. Now I grace you with eternity. Be here forever now as my lover. Here no pain, no strife, no death exist. I shall love you forever…”
Through her mysterious gaze she watched him. He was dissolving in the unknown mist. All questions that he had in his mind no longer bothered him. An unknown fulfillment drowned him in its sacred existence. He too raised his hands, held her, and rested his head on her bosom. All agitation crumbled down to make him empty of all troubles.




Odysseus was beyond all realizations. In the wondrous world of Calypso his past was extinguished. He no longer bothered of the world that happened to be a part of his unending strife and tortures.
No perpetual cycle of days and nights existed here. The river of time, as if, was frozen on this juncture. Her intoxicating beauty and the love she showered upon him were the only things that accompanied him.
From the harsh grounds of mortality, Odysseus had reached the skies of eternity.
He looked at the sleeping, unimaginable form of naked Calypso. Her face seemed as if a halo of eternal youth. So sinless and gracious she looked.
Mesmerized, he kept on looking at her. Then bending over her he kissed her forehead. She smiled. He became enchanted… and kissed her again.
Then he changed his position.


The moment he shut his eyes, the uproar of serene sea crowded his bedazzled heart. The sky overwhelmed with dark clouds and raging winds. His tiny vessel was being hurled on the sky-high waves.
And then other memories of past life came crowding in fragments.
He didn’t know what he had to do with that life he had left far behind.
“Odysseus …Odysseys…” he called himself.
“In what roaring tempest you are entering? Why not bring your vessel in this ocean of calm moments?”
“I must advance…no matter what tempest awaits me. I have to go where my dear Penelope awaits me. My son, Telemachus too await on me. I have to go where my land await on me.”
“You are crazy, Odysseus,” he yelled. “That is a far away dream you never shall attain. Don’t be a fool… rest here where only peace prevails.”
This became an unending debate. The raging tempest was vicious. The waves crashed against him in deathly force…he was drowning… his vessel shattered…
He opened his eyes. He was drenched in sweat.
From where this uproar had erupt? His distress grew intense. He felt like letting out a cry that could shatter the sky. I cannot store more agonies in my shattered heart…
All was so futile… so strange…
Why that meaningless life now shall beckon me?


Again he changed the position.
Before his eyes was Calypso, lost in deep sleep. He placed his hands over her warm body and pulled her in his embrace to feel her. In sleep she curled in his arms.
Calypso… you are miracle.
That’s why no poisonous creepers exist in you. You are like a lotus in a pond adorned with dewdrops under the morning sun.
With you pain lose its significance.
Calls from mortal world effortless.
Hold me dear in your soft embrace…
I need salvation from unwanted pain.
Love me, dear…
Hold me tight.



“Why are you restless, Odysseus?” Calypso asked him in her resonant voice. “Aren’t you happy and content?
“Here no sun rises to set. No dark ever shrouds my universe. Here neither sorrow nor grief has any place. You are now master of this world and if you are in grief, worthless are these pleasures.
“Be happy, my brave lover. Let my universe resonate in laughter. I can not bear your agonies, my love.”
Odysseus has nothing to say. As if his words too would be futile. Through his
agonized gaze he keeps on looking at worried Calypso.
“What bothers you? Couldn’t you tell me?”
What I should tell her? He asks himself.
He gets up. Looks at the mysterious paintings. Yes. I remember my country. My friends. I remember the burning of Troy and the shrieks of women being raped. I remember final expression of hatred on Hacabe’s face when I assaulted her. I was hurting her. And who is casting this spell over me…though I want to forget everything?
It is Helen, he realised… her mystified glances still were haunting him…
On the horizon stands my dear wife Penelope, and my son is calling me.
I no longer can bear this idle wonderment of mystic world. No longer I can tolerate this peace devoid of struggle.
What I want?
“Tell me, Odysseus – tell me. What hurts you? Why you are shattering my rule of peace with your overpowering pain? It was I, O Odysseus, who brought you in my world to free you from pain! I brought you here, dear, to stop your futile strife. I need to know what is troubling you, my love!”
She waits on him patiently. But it is he who is not ready to express.
With her feminine ego hurt, she asks in a bereaved voice, “Is it that now you don’t like me?
“What a question…” Odysseus mumbles. “I love you so much my dear-”
He sat for several moments in shock like a pillar of confusion. Then he turned at her. He rested his both hands upon her shoulders and peered in her eyes.
“Let me go Calypso. Please let me go.”
Stunned at his request Calypso detested his words. No. It couldn’t be, she must have heard him wrong.
“Why? Why you should desert me, Odysseus?”
His eyes are welling up.
So helpless he looked.
He fumbled desperately for words.
“I must go. My past calls me. I must go back calypso.”
Her eyes had become intense tornado of pain. She didn’t know how to convince this crazy man who was determined to hit his head against the dangerous walls of fatal destiny. She thought of using her spell, but then decided against it.
If he is becoming human, let me be human for a while.
“But why?” she asks in her weak voice, “I want you to be eternal. I’m devoting my youth and love at your feet. The life all mortals crave for I am dedicating to you. And you say you don’t want this life? Why? Have you gone crazy Odysseus?”
He too was on the verge of weeping. He kept on glancing at Calypso through the veil of tears. What makes me revolt against her desperation?
What is this mystery?
“I…” he again becomes speechless. An ocean of raging storms surges forth in his veins. How can I tell her that I don’t belong here?
“Tell me, my dear… tell me,” she pleads in a passionate voice.
“I …I need to go back among my people, to be with my wife and son. I have suffered a lot, dear. Now I need to rest with my people.”
Astonished Calypso looks at him incredulously.
“You want to go back among your people? Which people may I ask, brave Odysseus? The people who all the time tormented you, among those people you desire to go? The people who lack in strong faith and devotion, you want to live miserably among them? You want to rot in the oceans of sins to die one day as a helpless creature? You must be a fool, Odysseys”
Her vehemence was so intense that Odysseus didnt know how he could convince her.
“Yes Calypso, I am a fool,” he managed to say. “All my life was a game full of stupidity. I have always contradicted with my feelings and actions. Always I have been an imbecile attempting to become great. I nourished the dreams of a grand life, grand success and grand pleasures. With my own sinful hands I destroyed my own dreams. In fact I always was a lowly person. It was me who invited agonies to suffer. Such a fool I am…!
“But Calypso, this same foolish, stupid human nature I love. A strange confidence pushes me forth in the darkness of the future where one doesn’t know what calamities are waiting. I love the life full of challenges.
“Life without strife is meaningless. Life without mystery is worthless. Life without uncertainty is a poison. Life without pain is like a food devoid of spices. I want to live that life.
“True, Calypso, I want to go back to my people where I can find complete solace, no matter what dangers I may have to take upon me. True, that people lack in complete faith and devotion. I know they often turn to be treacherous when their instincts overpower them. But I can’t hate them because I know, though seldom, a lamp of humanity kindles in them. Look at my friend, Polymus, I don’t know in what condition he is, but he has been my honest companion in my strife. I love them despite all their lacunas. Being human is a scarce gift, but to gain that gift we humans wage a war against circumstances in an attempt to rise above ourselves. This makes me love the people. For this love of people I can go to any extent, commit any grave sin… to make them happy and content…and fulfilled.
“Human life is nothing but an unwritten saga of tragedies, frustrations, treacheries, agonies and strife. Calypso, you are a goddess. You never can understand this strife… struggle and a fulfillment over worthless victories. You simply cannot understand the lamps of hopes lit in every mortal heart! You cannot understand the agonies of defeat and the pain and the blazing torch we bear in our heart to defeat the pains.
“We walk over a thin rope of life, hung over the crevice of the death with expectations and hopes.
“You never can understand this!
“Yes- we hate. We get bloodthirsty sometimes. Many a times we do confront annihilation. But again we rise up with our ever-strong ambitions. We feel ashamed on our foolishness of the past and again are ready to repeat it with no awakening whatsoever.
“So ignorant and foolish often are we, Calypso! What provides some meaning to our life is our ignorance. Ignorance makes us curious. Ignorance makes us blind at the bare truths of the life. It is ignorance on whose foundations our civilisations are constructed. The moment complete knowledge will come to us our civilisation will cease to be.
“If we can see what is hidden in the secret stores of future like the burning sun, our life will come to a standstill. Our ambitious, fear and greed will vaporize, for there won’t be any place to go when the future is known and the life is infinite. Life will then become insipid, Calypso.
“We hope because we are ignorant. That is why we built the fortresses of confidence on uncertain grounds. That’s why we struggle to stand up through the turmoil of life. We suffer and we collapse with an irresistible urge to stand up again, to face inevitable and unknown. Without hopes our life would have become hell.
“Let me go back, Calypso. Life here is beautiful but unexciting. I am not used to live without strife and testing my follies over and over again. Love and peace are the islands of charm for me in the ocean of struggle. Struggle is foundation of our life. I am dead without its presence. What is the use of this happiness, O celestial beauty?
“I am a human and it is great to be human.”
Tears wells up in his eyes.
Grief–stricken Calypsos touches his shoulders in vehemence and asks in tremulous voice-
“You don’t care for my love?” she trembles like a barren tree in a tornado. “For you I changed the rules of my world. For you I applied my powers to make you eternal and you say you will desert me? Can’t you understand that loneliness will suffocate me when you won’t be with me?”
Are her sentiments genuine or whether it is a last charmed arrow she wants to hit me with to have me forever?
But her face is contorted with immense pain. Her eyes bore shattered dreams and yet she was pleading through her entire being. The grief in her words can melt the rocks, he felt. Am I committing a grave mistake, thought he. Or whether this is another illusion that is gripping me? He shook his head vehemently as if to shrug off the impending waves of surrender.
“Aren’t we all lonely, Calypso? Though we are surrounded with people all the time, everybody wants someone of his own. He craves for company may it be even treacherous. Isn’t it an illusion of bereaved mind dear?
Calypso looks at him then rests her head on his thigh.
“But you love your people. You love your wife… your son. Isn’t that too another illusion? Don’t you too crave for their company?
“Why cannot you be with me to enjoy the gift of eternity?”
Odysseus looks at her in immense pity. He pats her shoulder as if to convey her his sympathies that couldn’t be expressed in words.
Then he says-
“It’s human nature, dear, not to love what is assured… unchangeable. The paradox of our human life is, Calypso, we tend to trust though we nourish distrust for everything. Most of the time we keep on talking about faiths but no true faith can ever emerge in our heart. Nothing is stable in our world. These paradoxes rule our lives.
“We desire to possess a person and strive for the possession only when we feel danger that the person we want to posses may abandon us. This fear of abandoning makes us insecure and possessive. We all the time craves for successes because there never is guarantee that success will grace every time. Life is so uncertain and that’s why we are so charmed of it. We enjoy because joy is seldom. We try to overcome the grief because we hope for better tomorrow.
“Calypso, you are not human; so difficult is it for you to understand!
“Helen was loved by one and all, secretly and openly, only because she never belonged to anybody. I too loved her. Like a stupid I joined the war in a vain hope that Paris and Meneleus will die and it would be only me who could claim her. For her we sacrificed millions of lives and caused destruction of a civilisation. Those were all hopes with no assurance that even after this bloodshed I ever could get her. Only hopes… deceitful hope that had possessed me!
“I engineered the final victory.
“Helen was won.
“And see I was the one left behind to find my own way back home!
“But now it has ended. Whatever that has ended has taught me a lot that I simply cannot grab in the weak web of words.
“I want to go back to my home. Among those who had to suffer for that heinous war of insanity. For Penelope who is waiting for me patiently without knowing whether I am alive or not. I cannot let her be in pain of adversities.
“And beautiful meadows and grape-fields too are beckoning me. I want to rise up early and walk through dewy grass to welcome the dawn as if I never ever witnessed sunrise. All glimpses of that life are haunting me.
“And…and I … I have to go to eternal sleep one day in the moist garb of death after daring the unknown. Death is a bliss when one lives an uncertain life. I don’t want to miss the moment of death either.
“Let me go, dear…please.
“Don’t think I don’t love you. It is my luck that I am the only human being you got interested in. But dear you can live your life without any remorse of losing. You are immortal. Your love I shall keep stored in secret vaults of my heart. But, there is nothing I can give you in return when my heart is aflame with pain and memories of the past. I must go. I must…”
Calypso has listened to him. Now her eyes are dried and mind tense, on the verge of breaking. She knows now there is nothing she could do to stop him. She manages to gather her own self she had forgotten in the company of a man who she thought she loved. Suddenly hatred surges up in her. Raising her head she looks at him in strange detachment… no… this man never belonged to me. A stupid I was to offer immortality and my love to a lowly creature who never deserved it.
She gets up. The moment of finality took her hold.
“You are a mean creature to turn his back at the open doors of luck. You are one who dares spit on the grace of destiny.
“It was my mistake to invite you and love you. May be, I committed such a grave mistake only because I too was burdened by immortality.
“Go back to your mortal life that has curse of self-destruction, violence and treachery. Go away! I don’t want you to stain my sacred world.
“But …” Now her enraged voice reached to crescendo.
“But your return won’t be that easy. Your fatal attraction for those pain and struggle will keep you harassing. You will suffer what you never dreamt of! Till last moment of your life calamities won’t leave you alone.
“The people you say you are proud of will cheat upon you mercilessly.
“Go, Odysseus, just go­-”



Odysseus opened his eyes under the warm glow of morning sky. He ran his dazzled glare all across and in an attempt to know what miracle was this. He found the golden tint spread all around. In front lay a pond resembling a precious piece of emerald in its attempts to catch the sky in tiny wave-fingers. Beside it lay a bearded old man in deep sleep.
Odysseus got up and leaned over that stranger.
“Polymus?” Odysseus was astonished.
Now Polymus was waking up, slowly, trying to realise where was he. He looked at Odysseus with his puzzled eyes.
He was about to ask something, but Odysseus stopped him. “No more questions.” He said and again he looked in wonderment everywhere at the land where never before mankind had stepped on.
“We have dropped another illusion. Life seems so clear now!” said Odysseus in a childlike voice. Polymus observed his friend getting up, thinking this man must have gone crazy but decided against saying something for he could read his friends’ face was as sane as ever.
“Who knows? We have become old now.” said Polymus in a heavy voice. “May be the water of this pond we drank made us unconscious. But … so long?” Polymus was yet not ready to understand what had transpired in the vast passage of elapsed time. He was extremely astonished.
Odysseus’ face was serene.
“I to don’t know why we had to go through this? Who have filled us with delusions? How many years have lapsed we don’t know. Why… we are so ignorant about everything? As if I were in a swooned sleep for long a time. Calypso was promising me salvation from all illusions, why? For what? Why all this happened with us? Was it an attempt to stop us or did the deities took pity upon us?
“No, no one can stop me. I denounce the pity of gods. I have unbreakable faith in myself… not in gods.
“And yet, so baffled am I, friend.
“But this moment reminds me only of my dear Penelope… my son Telemachus. She is waiting for me and I must advance.”
Polymus was sitting. The initial flood of emotions had ebbed away. He seemed so uncertain about the outburst of passions of his friend.
“Can we truly go back? We are now old and grey. No ancient zeal of daring the sea is left in me!”
Odysseus got up. He looked like a huge pillar of benevolent life touching the sky and all the horizons.
“Come on, friend. We certainly are going to reach home. Yes. Trust me. Till my last breath doesn’t abandon me, I am going to oar the boat. My hopes are infinite and efforts know no boundaries.
“Come, friend, we must leave this island at once. High tide shall begin its game soon. Mounting the intimidating waves we shall advance in new vigor towards home.
“Yes …one day we shall reach the beautiful coasts of Ithaca!
“Do you really think gods have punished us for our sins, making us wanderers in the realm of pain?
“True… we were sinners. We behaved stupidly… we drank our own blood! But we are repenting too! It’s repentance that washes all the sins. And gods have no right to punish, for they too are sinners. It’s we who are getting punished at our own hands if this is punishment.
“I denounce the rule of gods and destiny.
“Friend, I am a human, old and weak. All surging volcanoes of youth have dried up. But I assure you the urge of challenging the horizons never can dry.
“Who knows, my friend, may be we never can reach the coasts of our homeland. May be that we just remain afloat on the vast ocean for infinite times.
“But … but that wont stop me from exploring. There is a vast world still unknown to us. Infinite mysterious islands and civilisations exists on this earth, we don’t know about!
“I want to oar my boat beyond the sun…
“Encircling the moon I wish to pluck the blossoming constellations… to adorn my soul!
“My friend, is our life restricted only to revenge, love, fight and violence? Come on. Let us explore the world beyond these lowly things. Yes, we have sinned. And I take all the burdens of those sins upon my shoulders. It is heavy… but I must bear it. Like a true warrior may we enjoy the fruits of our deeds and actions.
“I am accepting it with all humility.
“Let us come out of the cocoon of guilt of the past and form a new civilisation with new hopes, new aspirations, with love and with faith…!
“Not at all I am frightened of anything. Bygone is bygone though it could have been avoided but we failed in it. Let us try now that we never fail again.
“I never shall surrender myself to the verdict of destiny. I shall oar my boat till the horizons are conquered.
“Would you join me?”
As if not Odysseus, sky was resounding. Each particle of the universe was resonating with his serene voice.
Polymus got up. He looked intently at the stranger that stood towering before him. Slowly he realised that it was his friend and not any deity. His outburst of emotions he felt meaningless and he embraced Odysseus.
“Yes friend… I want to come…”


Pages of time are being tuned so rapidly. Cassandra is assassinated. Meneleus and Helen are secured in their own world of immense passions and love. Orestese is wandering on the unfriendly earth with a vow to avenge his treacherous mother and her lover Egysthus. Infinite streams of life are coming together to form an agitated ocean of human persistence.
Old Odysseus is not yet devoid of ambitions and curiosity. Still he is sailing through the raging ocean. He is still unbeatable by the storms and calamities that befall him like a punctual cycle of nature. His vane eyes are still transfixed on the distant horizon. He is tireless. What is it that he searches on the faint outline of the horizon? Helen? Penelope? Or that unknown beauty of eternity? In his soul remains the same agitated zeal. “I have to course ahead…just ahead...” He cannot stop. He cannot be defeated.
He doesn’t know to stop. Until the oar in his hand slips down, until the glow in his eyes is dead, he is determined to go ahead.
His journey is not momentary.
It is boundless… infinite.



The end