PodCastle

* Author : Chaitanya Murali
* Narrator : M. L. Krishnan
* Host : Matt Dovey
* Audio Producer : Devin Martin
*
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PodCastle 788: An Anklet Broken is a PodCastle original.





An Anklet Broken
by Chaitanya Murali
 




There is a man I am meant to love. He is the son of a sea-merchant, wealthy and well-connected. A friend of Karikalan, the Chola King.
And this man is my husband and a wastrel.
A sin it is for me to say these words, think these thoughts, but what else do you call a man who has pulled you from the sea and married you, only to then leave you for a courtesan?
Who bears a child on that courtesan, only to then leave her on the suspicion of her infidelity and come crawling back to you for forgiveness?
“Please, Kannagi. I was wrong to leave you — I know this now. The gods have punished me and left me destitute. I know now that I cannot live without you. Will you take me back?”
Left him destitute?
“Please. I cannot go back to my family penniless. I cannot bear that shame.”
What of my shame, Kovalan? Does that mean nothing to you?
But my mouth smiles, the expression warm and genuine, a beacon for this beleaguered cretin.
“Of course I will take you back; you are my husband, are you not?”
I reach down, unclasp the anklet around my right leg, and hold it out to him.





Kovalan stares at it, confusion etched into his face. He does not recognise it.
“You gave this to me when we were first married. There are sapphires inside. We can pawn this for some money, start anew.”
The hand that reaches out to grasp mine is sweaty, and the feeling is of oil that will stick to my skin forever. When it retracts, it takes with it the anklet, grasping it the way a drowning man grasps a life-rope.
“Sapphires, yes. Your favourite.”
If my loving husband knew anything, he would know that they are not my favourite. I do not like sapphires. I have always been partial to pearls.
I am a girl of the open seas. I have lived upon them, and beneath their waves. What beauty would I see in rock and stone from the earth?
Sapphires in particular, I detest. Cheap imitations of water, fashioned from stone. They are false, and they are wrong — and a perfect representation of this marriage.
These sapphires are more than just a display of his indifference towards me — they are chains of fire, tying me down to this man, keeping me from leaving.
That was the bargain I entered into when I left the waves, younger, and captivated by a soul of the land. I bound my power within them, fashioned the anklets to store them, and gave myself over to him. I did this for him, to prove my love.
I am meant to love this man, but I am tired of love.
And because of that curse of love, I am trapped, tied to him. As long as either of the anklets is in our possession, we are bound to one another. But he does not remember this, does not care for the sacrifice I made, and so I make this gamble.
He beams, spinning the anklet to hear the stones trill. He does not look at my face.
Does not hear me whisper.




“May this gift be the ruin of you, Kovalan.”

He does not tell me of his escapades during the two years we were apart — he has sense enough not to do that. But the stories are easy to find; they are everywhere in ...