In the blink of an eye, the seaport known as ‘Yaanai Iravu’ slipped away behind them.

Then, the forest trees seemed to rush backward. Birds in the sky flew away in retreat. Streams, ponds, village outskirts, temples, mandapams—all darted past and vanished behind. A herd of deer tried to race alongside the elephant for a short distance. The deer, too, fell behind in defeat. Only the elephant pressed on, ever forward, ever ahead. How far, how long—Poonguzhali could not tell. Yet she marveled: was this elephant still traveling within the land of Eezham? Surely, by now, it must have crossed the island three times over! No, no! This elephant had not left the land of Lanka. It was traversing the very earth itself—journeying from the southern tip of the world to its northern crown! Riding upon its back, I too am circumnavigating the globe. Am I alone? The prince is with me!

At first, when the elephant began its wild, frenzied run, Poonguzhali had felt a twinge of fear. Along with fear, there was an anxious uncertainty, not knowing what might happen next. Two or three times, the prince turned to look back at her and smiled. After that, her fear and hesitation melted away. An unbounded exhilaration seized her.

For a while, she rode upon the back of that mighty elephant across this earth. Suddenly, it seemed as if she had ascended to the heavens. In the celestial realms, she was seated upon Indra’s own Airavata. Airavata paraded along the skyways. Kalpaka trees showered her with fragrant blossoms. Gandharvas followed behind, playing sweet harmonies upon their divine instruments. Apsara maidens danced as they came. On either side of the heavenly avenue, star-lamps blazed with radiant, dazzling light! Thus, countless ages seemed to pass!

Now, Airavata’s speed was slackening. Suddenly, it had returned to earth. They were once more amidst the forests of Lanka. The mahout bent forward and tapped the elephant’s forehead. He whispered something into its ear. Wait! Was he not the mahout, but Indra himself?—No, was he not the prince?

The elephant came to a gentle halt upon the bank of a pond, surrounded on all sides by trees. Poonguzhali, with a trace of anxiety, looked to see if a crowd had gathered on the opposite bank to welcome and attend to the prince. No! She glanced back to check if a line of horses was following them—no, not that either! She looked at the pond; the blooming alli flowers and the red lotuses floated towards her, entwined with their vines. They surrounded her on all sides. Those flowers caressed her cheeks, her shoulders, her whole body, embracing her in delight. Then, the relentless vines tightened around her, squeezing her so that she struggled for breath. Her body shook, as if it had been turned upside down and thrown from the grip of those flowered creepers to the earth.

The elephant bent its massive forelegs and knelt. Then, folding its hind legs as well, it lay down on the ground. The prince leapt down from the elephant’s neck.

“Poonguzhali! Don’t you wish to get down from the elephant?” he asked.

Poonguzhali shivered, coming back to her senses. “Ayya! Is it not hard to descend from heaven to earth?” she muttered as she dismounted.

The elephant rose again and broke off a large branch from a tree on the pond’s edge, stuffing it into its vast mouth.

Arulmozhi walked to the bank of the pond and sat down. He beckoned the hesitant Poonguzhali to come and sit beside him.

In the clear water, Poonguzhali’s face was reflected. From the rush of the elephant’s ride and the turmoil of emotions she had just experienced, her face was flushed, glowing red, rivaling the hue of the lotus flower.

Gazing at her reflection in the water, the prince said, “Daughter of the ocean! I like you very much!”

Once again, the alli flowers and red lotuses drifted over and kissed Poonguzhali’s entire body. “Do you know why I like you?” the prince asked.

Before Poonguzhali’s eyes, the sky and earth, the pond, its flowers, and the trees on the bank all spun and whirled around.

“Everyone I know wishes for me to act according to their desires. Only you, you alone, agreed happily to act according to my wishes! I will never forget this favor, O daughter of the ocean!”

Poonguzhali’s body had become a veena. Every nerve of hers was a string of that veena. Her golden-hued fingers plucked those strings and brought forth music sweeter than that of the celestial musicians.

“Senathipathi and Parthibendran conspired together to hinder my journey! Senathipathi created many obstacles along our path. He sent messengers ahead of us in haste, instructing the villagers to prepare receptions for us. Parthibendran hurried to Trincomalee. His intention is to board a ship there and reach the mouth of the Thondaiman river before us. Ah! They thought I was ignorant of their schemes! With your help, I have foiled their plot…”

Suddenly, Poonguzhali remembered what she had done. It was as if the messengers of Yama were dragging her alive into the fires of hell.

“Sir! All of them tried to help you escape without falling into the hands of your enemies. But I, wretched woman that I am, am leading you into captivity!” she cried, and began to sob.

“Oh dear! What is this? I had such a good opinion of you. And now you have become like them?”

“I did not commit this crime by my own will. I was bewitched and driven mad by your words and desires. Now my mind is clear. I am leaving…” So saying, Poonguzhali sprang to her feet. The prince lightly touched her hand to stop her from running away.

At that moment, the maidens of the celestial world had no other task. They mixed the moonlight with sandal paste and sprinkled it upon Poonguzhali. She lost all her strength, her will deserted her, and she sat down again. Covering