One of our heroines, Vanathi, has developed the habit of fainting often, hasn’t she? We must beg our readers to bear with it just this once. For the time when her malady will leave her is drawing near.

When Vanathi regained a little consciousness, at first it felt as though she were swinging gently. Then she imagined she was journeying through the sky. The sound of the rain, “rim rim,” “jim jim,” reached her ears. The cold wind blew “koob koob” against her body, sending shivers through her. All right, she thought, we are traveling through the clouds to the celestial realms. Darkness surrounded her on all sides, and now and then, flashes of lightning would blaze and vanish.

She faintly remembered the Prime Minister’s last words about Gajendra Moksha, and how the elephant had lifted her up, curling its trunk around her. Everything had happened just as Prime Minister Aniruddha had described. ‘My life in this mortal world is over; now I am on my way to salvation. In the world of liberation, I shall see the gods and goddesses.’

‘But among all the gods, I will not see the one who is the deity of my heart. What is the use of going to a heaven where my heart finds no joy?’

Oh dear! What is this swaying motion! My body is being lifted and carried like this! But the place where my head rests is soft and comfortable. It feels like a mother’s lap. No—more than that, it feels like the lap of the beloved younger princess, who loves me even more than my own mother!… Ah! What must Kundavai Devi be doing now in Pazhayarai? Would news of me have reached her by now?

‘It is true that I am traveling through the clouds to the world of liberation. But what vehicle am I traveling in? Is this the Pushpaka Vimana of the celestial world? Or is it Indra’s Airavata, the divine elephant? Oh! The very thought of an elephant brings a little fear! The elephant, with its swaying, curling trunk!—How much strength lies in that swaying trunk!—But what does it matter now? What is there to fear or worry about anymore?’

‘But why is the place where my head rests so soft, like silk? Because it is dark all around, I cannot see anything. Perhaps I can feel with my hand. Truly, it feels just like a silken drape. It is a little damp as well.’

‘Ah! What is this? Who is touching my cheeks? Is it not a hand as soft as jasmine petals that touches me?’

“Vanathi! Vanathi!”

“Akka! Is it you?”

“It is I. Who else could it be?”

“Are you coming with me to the world of salvation?”

“What hurry do you have to go to the world of salvation already? Have you grown weary of this world so soon?”

“Then, where are we going?”

“Have you even forgotten that? Don’t you know we are going to Anaimangalam?”

“What place is