Oontab [Episode 4]

Garduktar

Thousands of years ago, in a very small portion of Existence, people lived. In that portion of Existence, Gardutkar sat high; a plateau from its highest point, yet buried in the bottom edges of Hona Mountain.

Meadows stretched wide as though never ending if one stood on a rock at the highest point of Gardutkar to look. Towards the East of Existence, the village descended gently into a chasm, between its edge and Hona Mountain which stood as a wall such that the meadows could not be seen from that descent. Towards the West, however, the descent at the edge of the village was dangerously steep, but like on all the other corners of the village, it descended to a space between the end of land and the towering Hona Mountain. The space was dark and empty, since the bottom could not be seen with the eyes.

It was said that if one threw a stone, it fell through the ground, through the core of Existence where all knowledge is in reverse, and then circle back down from the sky to repeat itself, hence, the people called it the bottomless pit.

In spite of the hidden mysteries and graceful terror in Gardutkar's stories, Hona Mountains stood erect, assuredly and unshaken, casting a brilliant shadow on the village at the break of day, obscuring the brilliant bickering of the morning sun from the East and coloring the village with a mouth watering orange and blue-green from the sky. It made one think of rich mangoes bobbing beneath the grip of a branch of their mother tree, dancing to the gesture of the wind.

The meadows; bared to the sky’s wide-faced glare and lying naked to the sun’s radiance yet mild and in sync with the breeze so that nothing was worried by any heat. One would also see a lavish display of the splendor of nature that could only be reached by the eyes. If one looked ahead, one would see an expanse of vegetation generously scattered over irregular heights and depressions in the land. Birds shot through the sky, gliding and whipping against the wind for balance. The clouds were spun like wool into many shapes, their silver linings in response to the rays of the sun. The misty sky met up with the earth at the horizon; and the complete sight of these was more than enough food for the soul.

The bright brown soil had the scent of prosperity and through every root of every tree in Gardutkar, there flowed the blood of the gods and their blessings that enriched the animals and the air as it did the fruits that the trees bore. When a goat bleated, you could tell it was agreeing to be subdued and killed and cooked and eaten with unbridled succour. The early morning gentle breezes gave the people comfort, that the gods were always faithful to tending to the people’s needs and desires. The gods kept the concerns and heart-cries of the people to account and even though they seldom appeared in forms visible to men, they intervened in nature and caused occasional stirs in the hearts of people.


Gardutkar looked like a circle, the forests serving as an outline to that, and the beauty of nature garnished every house, every field, every pool, every garden, every tree, every rock and every soil; so that she looked like a newly wedded queen with many diamonds on her golden crown.


Although this village seemed as glorious as the flawless heavenly realms – the abode of the gods – that the ancient fables of Gardutkar told of, where there was neither crying nor dying nor iniquitous tendencies; it did have its secrets, secrets that were held up against time and season, and grew more lethal as generations came and went. But since they were secrets, only the few living men at that precise time who knew those secrets also knew how dangerous secrets often got when they were tethered against a timeline. Some wanted to let these secrets out, some others wanted to protect them, either choice, consequential, and each with the purpose of protecting the land, which is the people. One thing no one really considered was the fact that nature when kept from paying it's respects and performing its pieties to the gods would eventually implode in itself, and for this very village called Gardutkar which had inevitable ties with a place that does not exist, Non-existence, the unseen problem was bigger than expected.

The unseen problem was unseen.

And because men could do as they so vainly desired, they were not so perfect.


Non-existence is a place full of things the eyes cannot see unless natural laws are broken. It simply means if it not seen, it does not exist. Some men have found the description of this place worrying since it does not exist, but some other men have seen this place with their own eyes. None of them lived to prove it, because that place is full of evil.
Existence is everything the people have come to know by experiencing. It is their world as they know it, the only thing they have.

Mogg

The old man froze, half-pointing with a scaly finger, eyes bulged and mouth agape.

When he spoke, mucus broke his voice.

“Could it be?! Oontab? Is it…is it really you?” The old man beckoned, wiping his eyes to see clearly through the building tears.

The young man did not respond, he pulled off a string hung round his neck to which was attached a small pointed bone, and displayed it to the old man.

"No. I don't believe it. This is the tooth of the very last crocodile I killed myself…” the old man laughed, sobbing. “…And I gave it to…”

He paused, seeing something that cleared his doubts and shut him up for a long moment.

The younger man had twisted his arm to reveal it. It was a scar – a deep scar; it looked like someone had used a sharp object or a finger to take a large piece of flesh from the skin on his arm. There were smaller strokes beside the large stroke, which made the arm look like it had been scraped off by the fingers of another man.

“It is me, my King. It is me, Kanaka, son of Gardutkar…”

“Kanaka? No, I named him… after my father’s father…”

“Yes, my King."

The old man stared in bewilderment, and replied,

"Forgive me. I have been an old man for longer than I can remember, and hope is futile. I found peace in my heart that he... you... were dead, since the time you w..." He froze in the middle of his words, as deep sadness washed over his face, then asked, "How did you come to be here?"

Kanaka looked up, then down through pearly black eyes and swallowed heavily, comforting himself over a painful memory.

"I have scavenged and begged since I was a child, hiding from mockery and beating, as I was marked an abomination.

Many times I thought of running back to the palace, but more terrifying than the wrath of men was the wrath of the gods.”

The old man bowed.

Kanaka knelt down.

“I was lost, till I was taken in by another hunter, but I was treated very badly by his family, so I ran away again. I have only barely escaped death; I have no resemblance to my family because I lost my face. I have been a public display of the wrath of the gods."

He turned his scarred face so that the old man would see.

"Many days and nights, hiding in holes, I learned to fend for myself and build huts because I had developed the liking for it. As I grew in Hut Building and in stature, people, not anymore recognizing who I really was, began to love my work, so they started to call on me to build huts. I have built with wood, with stone and with mud and thatch. During that time, I also became a skilled hunter, just like you… My King.”

The old man’s face rose from the cheeks.

“This is why I am here: I have come here, back to the only home I know. I have come here as a servant; to serve the king.”

“Oontab, stand up…” the old man said, and both men, teary eyed, embraced and held themselves there for a long time before letting go.

"My King, I ask, call the son of your belly Oontab. Not me. I am only your servant, even to him. I am Kanaka, son of Gardutkar, not Oontab. Past is passed."

The king was enchanted by the words of Kanaka, son of Gardutkar. Even though the young man had had a rash share of life, he had grown to be great. The gods be praised!

His mind wandered to the night his own son was born by his once barren wife, the Queen. The gods had favored her after many years of shame; just when they had lost their faith, the gods heard the cry of a barren woman and the soil in which no seed could germinate became fertile. But Rotyuk the Spokesman and the other council members with the backing of the gods did not fail in reminding him that the gods decreed that no adopted child or child born of a King's infidelity could become king, and if it happened that a child was eventually born from the blood of the king, the adopted child had to be sent away to live with another family.

A Vanoot finding another family was the part of the tradition nobody was interested to see to its end. In fact, "Vanoot" means "an acursed abomination", as the ancestors wrote,

Is there anything that can make black the red blood of the people?

Is there anything that can soil the garment of this heavenly Existence?

Vanoot is his name. Give him no hand of help or friendship.

Vanoot is his name. Trample him till he is liquefied like overripe mangoes.

Vanoot is his name. Do not touch him without leaving a bruise.

For Vanoot is an acursed abomination.

Years later, the King's own blood son, Greda, was growing in stature, yet growing away from the character of the kind of king he had seen in Oontab – the Oontab standing right here in front of him – and found it difficult calling him by the title.

King Mogg could not fit in the piece of himself that Greda had taken by birth, it was as though Greda was not really his child, because he bore little resemblance to the King or Queen in spirit and in body.

Not like Kanaka.

King Mogg stood up from his throne, grabbing Kanaka by the arm and stood at the front of the palace entrance way calling all the servants together himself. Then he spoke, “This is Kanaka. From now, henceforth, he is the Chief Palace Guard and will be respected as such. He will be in charge… and run the affairs of the servants and the palace guards around the palace, and ensure their safety here in the palace and at the servants’ quarters.” While he was speaking, another servant, the King's Announcer ran towards the King realizing that the king had performed his own duty. He was about to kneel, but the king bid him stand. When the King had made the announcement, the Announcer added, “The King has spoken!”

If anyone didn't hear, they would ask.

Queen Shere was not in the palace when this happened, and King Mogg did not tell her that the child she did not love had come back.

To be continued...

- Telsum Bini