The Science Academy

Matsyayani woke up to the darkness of the winter morning, and felt the bangles missing from her wrist. She swept her palms up and down her hands. The pearl encrusted ring was missing. She raised her hand up to her nose, and realized that the diamond nose-ring was gone too. Matsyayani felt around the dark room and the empty sheet next to her confirmed what she already knew. Shwetayavana had disappeared into the night and so had all her jewelry. The brass lamp in the room was extinguished. Matsyayani fumbled her way through the darkness till she reached the courtyard and walked into the lane outside. There was no sign of Shwetayavana or her jewels. The temple was the only place which had a lamp burning through the night. But it was two furlongs away and she did not want to walk on the streets at this hour.

Matsyayani returned to the storeroom where Shwetayavana had shown her the delights of Bergamot, Hyssop and other perfumed oils that no one knew about in Ujjain. But now he was gone and so were the jewels. She folded the bedding and heard the first stirrings outside. Her husband, Vardhamana was up and was chopping the firewood, accompanied by his sonorous incantations. Matsyayani put on her garments, covering her wrists and neck. She hoped the old man would not notice the missing nose-ring or the ringlet around her toes. Matsyayani went to the front of the house and cleaned the area under the peepal tree before stacking the palmyra sheaves of the morning class. The students would come anytime now. Her husband would be busy for the next few hours. She had no idea what would happen after that. 

The visitor’s bell clanged through the long house. Vardhamana looked up at the front door through the single line of sight that ran all the way from the backyard. The man at the door was instantly recognizable by his yellow sash and blue dhoti. He waited with downcast eyes, careful not to stare at anything or anyone. Vardhamana dusted the cow dung off his robes and walked up to the entrance.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Sire. I know it is the time of your classes but Supratik Sir wants to speak to you urgently. He said that he will meet you at the riverbank. He is already on his way there” said the guard.

“What does the head of security want from me even before Venus has dipped below the horizon?” asked Vardhamana.

“No idea, Sire. He said it was urgent” said the policeman.

“Give me a minute” said Vardhamana and went in to tell his wife about the morning assignments to the students. They had to memorize the aphorisms of Aryabhata starting with the secant of a curve. Matsyayani nodded and looked nervously as her husband, still not noticing the missing jewels, headed out of the house with the guard.

Supratik, the Chief of Police and Internal Security at Ujjain, walked rapidly up to the riverside, just as the body was being fished out. The officer supervising the operation turned around and saluted his commander immediately.

“Do we know who he is? I was told he looked like a foreigner” said Supratik to the supervisor.

“Yes, sir. His ears are not pierced. He must be a mleccha but unable to say more than that.”

The body was laid out on the stone steps. The uncovered upper body was taut and muscular and a green tattoo was visible on the left side of his chest. There was no sacred thread, noted Supratik.

Just then Vardhamana reached the spot and even as he descended the steps, his eyes opened wide. The old man slowed his descent, never taking his eyes off the fallen figure.

“This is my student, Shwetayavana” said Vardhamana.

“That is the Greek fellow who came to us on a scholarship, isn’t it?” asked Supratik.

“He is Bactrian, not Greek. But you are right. Brilliant student”.

“This is murder. He was poisoned and then thrown into the water after he died.”

“I agree. No ingestion of water. No bloating. Purple patch on the lips and inside of the mouth” said Vardhamana, turning to the supervisor.

“Vardhamana, this could be an international scandal. He was your student. You know whom he met, who he spoke to. Would you suspect any one?” asked Supratik.

“I did not know him so well. He was my student, a keen, curious one. But that was about it”.

“Surely there must be something you can tell us”.

“My students are a competitive lot, young men trying to make their mark in the academy. You can talk to them to see if something turns up”.

“Let me first preserve this body. I will come over to your academy later in the day” said Supratik.

Vardhamana walked away as the sun reflected off the gleaming Kshipra into his eyes.

“Send a pigeon to Gandhara. He was the only son of his parents”, he said before he disappeared over the steps.

Supratik saw the students sitting under the banyan tree, hunched over the palmyra sheaves. Vardhamana pointed out a young man in the front row to Supratik. He was Ankusha, the strapping youth from Vidisha. Supratik led Ankusha into the wooded area next to the cottage.

“Shwetayavana is dead” said Supratik, looking at the young man’s face.

“Are you certain? I saw him yesterday evening. He was absolutely fine” said Ankusha.

“When and where did you see him last?” asked Supratik.

Ankusha stammered and looked back at the cottage where the students were chanting steadily led by the teacher.

“Sir, he was right here, waiting in the darkness. I believe he entered the guru’s cottage just after Yama’s hour, when the coucals had settled for the night and the street lamps were dimmed” said Ankusha, whispering.

“Did you see him enter or was he just loitering around the lane?” asked Supratik.

Ankusha’s voice fell to a whisper.

“Sir, I was out to take the readings of Jupiter transiting into Sagitta. I saw him as clearly as I see you. He entered the house through the side wall” said Ankusha.

“Entered the house of your guru? And you did not raise an alarm?”

“Sir, what was the point? The teacher and his wife were besotted with the foreigner. He could do no wrong.”

“But why should he enter the house of his own guru in the night?”

“The Byzantines know that we have overtaken them in navigational astronomy. They can only skirt the Mediterranean while we can sail to Nusantara, Nippon or Aqaba. Vardhamana’s treatise on the subject is nearly complete. Shwetayavana was sent here to steal the work and sell it to his masters in Athens. The Bactrians always put their mother country first.”

“When did he come out?”

“I did not see him come out. I suspect he went out through the back door. He must have tried to sell the treatise to someone. They would have killed him since they could not agree on a price” said Ankusha.

Supratik looked at the youth, his flushed temples and red face.

 “Go back to your class and never speak about this to anyone” said the chief of police and watched as the youth slunk away.

Supratik walked down the lane which ran by the sidewall of the teacher’s cottage. If Ankusha was speaking the truth, this was where Shwetayavana would have climbed into the house. He looked at the dusty lane carefully and sure enough, found the footprints of a flat leather sole leading to the point in the lane where the open window could be reached with some effort.

Supratik came back to the front of the house and waited for the students to finish the section. As soon as they took a break, he took Vardhamana to a side.

“I need to check inside your house. Can we go in?” he said.

Supratik and Vardhamana entered the cottage, the teacher signaling to the students to continue their recital without him. Inside, Matsyayani was topping up the water-clock on the hour. She recognized the police chief and the water jug fell from her hands in alarm.

Vardhamana looked at her wrists and then at her neck, starkly plain.

“Did you take off your jewels? Not seen you like this in a long time” he asked.

“They were discoloured and stained with sweat. I had not taken them off even once in our two years together. Thought I will get them polished” said young Matsyayani.

“Take good care of them. They belonged to my mother” said the old man.

“I know how important they are for you. I will be careful” she said, her dark eyes still stricken in fear.

Supratik admired her beauty and the contrast to the wrinkled old man and then walked to the backyard followed by Vardhamana. Supratik bent low on to the cowdung-covered floor around the sacrificial altar. There were footprints on the dust.

“Did you sweep the altar this morning?” asked Supratik.

“No, I could not. I was called away by your man and when I returned my students had already assembled”.

“This is your foot mark, the inward bend clearly visible in the dust. You stepped out in the morning I see? What for?”

“I get the fire from the temple and then I step out again to get hay for the cattle. Is it a surprise that my own backyard has my footprints?”

Supratik nodded and looked at the other marks. The same leather footprint was visible in the dust. Ankusha had guessed right about the back door.

“Someone has walked out in a leather sole either last night or this morning. Who could it be?” asked Supratik.

Vardhamana looked surprised as he examined the mark.

“It has to be Shwetayavana. The Indian students wear wooden clogs. But what was he doing here at night?”.

Supratik traced another set of footprints which had overstepped the leather marks and led out into the lane. They were barefoot and small. Supratik pointed them out to Vardhamana, not saying a word.

“My wife has followed him out in the early hours” whispered the old man.

Vardhamana bent low and scanned the dusty footprint.

“There is no mark of the ringlet that she wore around her toes. The jewels were taken off or stolen in the night. Her story of cleaning them was patently false” said Vardhamana, his eyes watering as he looked at Supratik.

“And the poison? Do you think even that could be her doing?” asked Supratik.

Vardhamana went into the store room to check his medical supplies. The vial of belladonna was missing just as he knew it would. Those purple marks on the lips of young Shwetayavana could not be from anything else.

“What do you want to do?” asked Supratik.

“Can you come back in the evening?” asked the old man.

Supratik nodded and put a hand on the bent shoulder. He walked away, making no eye contact with the pretty young woman who was watching them from behind the pillar.

Vardhamana knocked on the door of Vrushali, the young maiden who had wanted to join his academy. Vrushali opened the door and looked at him with bright but nervous eyes.

“Sir, you could have called for me. Why did you bother to come here?” she said, looking around. Her parents were in the ante-chamber and the servants were resting in the afternoon.

“Vrushali, there is something that is not right in my work on navigation. The precession of the earth is not accurately calculated. Without that, my tables are useless”.

“I think you could rework it based on the Chinese method. That returns more precise values” said Vrushali.

“But it is so complex. I failed to comprehend it both the times I tried” said Vardhamana.

“I would be honoured to assist you. I can convince my father” said Vrushali.

“No, my dear. The community would be outraged if you spent long hours with me. It would affect your life” said the teacher.

“A life without science has no value for me” she said.

Vardhamana blessed her and walked out. It was the work of a lifetime, so nearly complete but if the precession was not calculated right, it would be of no value. The Chinese method held promise, but he was too old to learn it now.

Supratik walked back to the academy just as the sun was setting. The king was furious. If Ujjain could not be safe for students, then it was not safe for merchants, tradesmen, scholars, courtesans, no one. A trading outpost could go from prosperity to obscurity in a flash if its reputation was tarnished.

“Vardhamana, have you decided?” asked Supratik as soon as the old man received him at the front door.

“Come with me” said Vardhamana, walking to the backyard.

He saw Matsyayani pounding the rice by the kitchen and called her to join them.

“This is Shwetayavana’s footwear and this is your footprint right over it. Where did you both go together in the morning dear?” asked Vardhamana to his pretty wife.

She looked at dusty marks on the floor and then at her husband, her eyes glistening in fear.

“See these footprints. You return alone, my dear. The vial of belladonna is missing from my storeroom. And so are all your jewels. Your lover shows up dead in the Kshipra. What exactly was your plan, little Matsyayani?” asked Vardhamana.

The young woman looked stricken. She wailed and fell at the old man’s feet.

“I made a terrible mistake. I betrayed you. But I did not kill Shwetayavana. He used me, cheated me and he stole my jewels” she screamed.

“And my supplies of belladonna. Did he steal that too? And then he drank it on his way to the river?” asked the old man.

“I know nothing of your herbs and medicines. I do not touch them ever” she pleaded. The old man looked at her once and then looked away.

“Supratik, she admits sharing her bed with Shwetayavana while I was sleeping in the next room. I say she also killed Shwetayavana. Either way, she has to be put to death by law. You know how to find the truth” said Vardhamana.

The security chief dragged the woman away till the main door where his two assistants took over. She would be dead by the morning.

The priest tied the end of Vrushali’s robe to Vardhamana’s sash draped around his wrinkled body. Her father was beaming on the other end of the hall. His daughter was marrying the greatest scholar of Ujjain, the man who could make a fortune with his new navigational thesis. The priest could not understand why the man was in such a hurry. As it is, it was just two months since his wife had died at the hands of the royal executioner.

Vardhamana looked at his shy bride who understood his urgency. There was a scientific thesis to complete and before that a whole new system to master. They wanted to get at it the moment the rituals were over. Vardhamana looked at his radiant wife, her glittering necklace, bangles and nose-ring. It was a beautiful set that had once belonged to his mother. He had let all his wives keep them. As long as they did not cheat on him.