It had begun like any other day in Natraazhi that day too. As dawn broke, the village stirred and went about its usual morning business until a galloping rider rode fast into the village and shouted, “Where is the village Headman? Which is his house?”

The people who were out and about in the streets at that time instantly recognized the uniform of the Chozha army and directed him to the Headman’s house. The soldier got down hurriedly from the horse and went inside. He came out a few minutes later, with a flustered-looking Headman in tow, got back up on the horse and rode off as fast as he had come. Without having to announce anything to anyone the whole village gathered around the Headman. His name was Kulasekaran, a sixty-something year old man, respected and loved by the inhabitants of Natraazhi.

“Crown Prince Rajendran is on his way here with fifty of his troops. We should prepare a welcome and arrange food for them all”, he announced in simple words. But those simple words were enough to galvanize the people of Natraazhi into instant action. Sembuli asked the only question that needed to be asked.

“When are they expected?”

“A little before noon”, was all the answer they needed to hear.

Receiving the Crown Prince along with his troops was not a simple affair like receiving a government official who was either passing through or had come on an official visit. Special preparations had to be made and with the little time they had, they had to make sure everything was up to the required standard. There was no hard and fast rule as to what needed to be done. Nor was there any royal decree that stated the procedures and protocols for receiving the Crown Prince, unlike an official state visit. People of each town and village did their own thing, had their own way of receiving royalty. It was their very own way of showing their love, affection, admiration and undying loyalty to their King and to the Prince, for each of whom every last one of them would gladly give their lives. The love of a people is not so easily earned, much harder to earn is their loyalty. King Raja Raja[1] and his son Prince Rajendra had so totally earned the collective love and loyalty of the people of the Chozha Empire, that the other Kingdoms found the Chozha land an impregnable fortress to breach.

And so the people of Natraazhi sprang into action, right from sweeping and sprinkling water on the streets to putting up mango leaf thorans to preparing welcoming garlands to getting ready the biggest house for the Prince to use for his rest. A considerable number of people got themselves involved in the preparation and cooking of food for the entourage. Feeding soldiers was not like feeding a group of guests who had decided to visit. It involved cooking of special meals that involved lots of meat and protein. Sembuli gave a tentative menu to the cooking group and told them to make similar items if the exact ones cannot be prepared for want of necessary ingredients. He then went about prepping the very few students he had been training, to give a martial welcome to the Prince. All of them were asked to change into their training attire and be present with their staffs.

By the time the same rider who had informed them of the Prince’s visit came riding back again to tell them that the Prince would be there in just a little while, Natraazhi was ready.

And when the people of Natraazhi waited at the edge of their village with music and flowers and garland and poorna kumbam[2], Prince Rajendra was so touched that he got down from his horse and walked the last few steps to meet and receive the warm welcome that his people were offering him. As he stood receiving the garland and the aarthi, his eyes fell on the group of children dressed in training attire waiting by the street side with what was obviously training staff. His brow went up questioningly and he stepped forward to take a closer look at them.

As he did, the children stepped forward as one, forming rows and columns, and stood in front of him, waiting for the signal from their teacher.

“Who is responsible for this group?” Prince Rajendra asked looking around.

Sembuli stepped forward from the side where he had been standing, and folded his hands in salutation.

“Vaazhga[3] Raja Udaiyaar[4]! Vaazhga Ilavarasar[5] Rajendrar! Vaazhga Chozham!”

“Ilavarase![6]Kindly grant us your permission to offer our welcome!” Sembuli stood with folded palms.

Rajendra looked at him sharply. He bent his head and looked at his wooden leg and looked up again at his face.

“You are Sembuli, aren’t you?” he asked, recognizing the man in front of him. Prince Rajendra had been alongside his father, King Raja Raja, in the battle and had witnessed Sembuli singlehandedly take down an enemy elephant that had been goaded on to attack them, catching its tail from behind and climbing on top of it and bringing it down with a short sword, and in so doing getting his leg crushed underneath the falling behemoth.  

“Yes, my Prince! It is my honor that you recognize this humble soldier”, answered Sembuli, truly touched at being recognized by his Crown Prince.

“Ah, Sembuli! How can I forget you?” answered Prince Rajendra, stepping forward to pat him on the shoulder. “Are they your students?” he asked.

“Yes, my Prince”.

“Well, let’s keep this simple for now. But I would like to see them perform later in the afternoon”, said Prince Rajendra and stepped back, giving the signal to the young ones to offer their style of welcome.

Sembuli gave them the signal to keep it short for he knew that the Prince and the soldiers were tired and hungry. The short welcome by the young ones brought a smile to Prince Rajendra’s face.

That smile came back to his face when Sembuli assembled them again in front of Prince Rajendra after he and his soldiers had had their lunch and were relaxing in the tent his soldiers had put up for him in the village square. His soldiers had refused the offer of the house that had been prepared for him saying that it would be difficult for them to guard him there. Prince Rajendra assuaged the people saying that though he maybe the Crown Prince, he was bound to listen to his soldier bodyguards and that he dare not override their say in the matters of his safety.  Though Natraazhi felt crestfallen, they understood that the safety of their Prince was paramount.

“So, what have you got to show me, Sembuli?” asked Prince Rajendra as he saw the children lined up again in front of him.

“With your permission, my Prince”, said Sembuli with folded palms and turned and nodded to his students. The whole village had gathered around, with the soldiers creating a cordon around the Prince’s tent and keeping a strict and stern vigil at the people who had assembled there.

The small group performed their choreographed moves, in a synchronized manner, much to the delight of all those who were watching. They then paired off and exhibited fighting skills of the martial art of Silambam using their bamboo staffs. Then they demonstrated some hand to hand combat skills and finished with a flurry of acrobatic moves. They then stood before the Prince, waiting for his reaction.

“Aha! Aha! Aha!” exclaimed Rajendra as the performance came to an end. He put his hands together and clapped heartily, with the villagers joining in enthusiastically. It was their first time too, seeing the performance of their children. As far as they were concerned, they had been sending the children to Sembuli just as a means of keeping them out of mischief.

“You have done a good job, Sembuli!” exclaimed Prince Rajendra.

“I would like your permission to bring in one more student, my Prince!” said Sembuli.

“One more student? What is special about this student?” Prince Rajendra asked.

“This is my best student, my Prince!”

“Oh! Your best student? In that case, how about a demonstration against one of my soldiers?” asked Prince Rajendra, half seriously.

“If you command it, my Prince”, answered Sembuli.

Rajendra turned and looked at Sembuli sharply. He seemed to have not expected Sembuli to accept the mock challenge.

“So be it”, said Rajendra, after a thoughtful silence.

“One small request, my Prince”, said Sembuli and waited for the Prince’s permission to utter it.

“Request? What sort of request?”

“After seeing my student, one of your soldiers has to volunteer to come forward for the demonstration, without anyone choosing or deputing”, Sembuli said.

‘What are you up to?’ Prince Rajendra’s look seemed to ask Sembuli. But Sembuli kept a steady gaze and sensing something in that gaze, Prince Rajendra nodded slightly, granting his request.

Sembuli bowed and walked out to the center where his students were still standing. He gave them instructions to disperse and they backed away and stood to a side, their movements eager and respectful. The air became charged with a heightened sense of anticipation.

Sembuli stood in the center and raised his staff high above his head. As if waiting for the signal, a small figure, holding a staff, peeled away from the crowd of bystanders and walked forward towards him. An instinctive cheer went up from the crowd and the soldiers took in a sharp breath and their stance stiffened seeing the figure walking out to the center. Prince Rajendra sat bolt upright at the sight of the person standing a few feet in front of him.

Sembuli walked forward and stood beside his best student.

“Oh, Prince Rajendra! Son of the great King Raja! I present to you Paavai, my best student. She is almost eleven years old and is the daughter of my wife’s sister who died at childbirth. We have brought her up as our own. She will give a demonstration of her skills against any of your soldiers who volunteers to go up against her”.

Prince Rajendra looked at the slip of a girl standing before him. It was difficult for him to believe that she was not even eleven years old. She was tall for her age and had gangly arms and legs. She had long hair, plaited into a thick braid and knotted up on the top of her head which was held in place with a cloth tied around her head like a bandana. A sharp nose sloped towards a small mouth with an almost square jaw falling away down to a long neck. Her shoulders were still small, and she looked bony. But it was her eyes that arrested Prince Rajendra’s attention. Paavai’s eyes were large, with thick lashes framing them and the steady calmness with which she held Prince Rajendra’s gaze told him that the person looking at him through them was an old soul in a young body.

A murmur went through the crowd. Everyone in the village knew that Paavai was being trained by Sembuli in the martial arts. Though it was not unknown for a girl to get trained in the fighting arts, it was however an unusual occurrence. Chozhas did not have a female contingent of the army and those women who did have training, were all deputed to the various palaces, to take charge when the King and the Prince and the majority of the army and the men were away fighting their wars in faraway lands. Though none of them understood why Sembuli chose to train his daughter they all knew that she was the best he had trained so far, having the potential to be even better than her older brothers.  

Prince Rajendra’s general who was seated next to him, leaned towards him and whispered something in his ear. And as the words were spoken to him, Prince Rajendra looked at Paavai sharply, his gaze resting on her as he assimilated the words that were being spoken to him. His general kept leaning towards him, as if waiting for some signal from the Prince while Rajendra kept looking at the girl in front of him thoughtfully.  He then turned towards his general and spoke a few words and turned back to Paavai.

“Was it your idea to train under Sembuli?” he asked her.

Paavai bowed deep and nodded.

“How long have you been training under him?” he inquired.

“She has been training from the age of four, Prince Rajendra”, answered Sembuli. Another murmur went through the crowd. ‘Had it been that long?’

Prince Rajendra turned to Sembuli with a fierce glance.

“That question was not addressed to you. Can your student not answer for herself?” he asked, anger flashing in his eyes.

“She cannot, my Prince. Paavai does not speak, Sire”, answered Sembuli, bowing deep, hearing the anger in the Prince’s voice.

Prince Rajendra’s brows creased in a deep frown.

“Paavai has not spoken a word to this day, my Prince”, added Sembuli, sensing that a further explanation would be beneficial to his well-being if he wanted to protect himself from the Prince’s infamous wrath.

Prince Rajendra looked at him for an instant and turned his attention to Paavai. And then as if he had made up his mind about something he asked, “Any volunteer to go against this girl?” looking at his soldiers. They all stood their ground. None of them wanted to fight a child. Not only did they not want to hurt a young girl, they also knew that there would be no winners in that fight.

[1] Revered and celebrated a thousand years later as ‘Ponniyin Selvan’

[2] A pot filled with holy water offered in a traditional welcome to Kings and Sages

[3] "Long Live!"

[4] King Raja Raja Chozha was affectionately called ‘Udaiyaar’ by his people

[5] Thamizh word meaning ‘Prince’

[6] “Oh Prince!"