Intrigues in Rajeshwar One who is unattached achieves his ends while maintaining his silence. —Bhavabhuti Suvarnapur’s administration appeared to be slumbering, moving almost of its own volition. All except the Rana and his Counsellor were somnolent. Those who observed the state felt that this slumber was, in fact, the natural order of things, but those who remained wakeful desired this condition. Buddhidhan, the real manipulator of this apparent somnolence operated from behind the scenes. Each of the actors involved believed that their actions were autonomous, and that he, Buddhidhan, was one of them. The people believed that the Counsellor had the Rana’s ear; they did not however suspect that he was key to all the Rana’s decisions. But this perception and this sense of calm was also contrived by the Counsellor. The fire of revenge that had consumed him during his years of impoverishment still raged unabated within him; but even Bhupsinh himself was unaware of this. The Rana believed that Buddhidhan was subject to his wish and will, and thus showered him with unsullied affection. Buddhidhan had meanwhile turned Bhupsinh and his administration into mere instruments for his festering rage. However, it is also true that despite this, over time, Buddhidhan had come to grow a selfless devotion and friendship for

Bhupsinh. Buddhidhan’s ambition and desire for glory had taken root as well. Even so, this was not enough to calm his desire for retribution. In fact, this was daily stoked by the very sight of his enemies. For Buddhidhan, Bhupsinh’s hatred was a mere instrument to actualise his own animosity. He would do nothing, would remain unseen, act only through his instruments while others would act as directed by him. Buddhidhan would remain distant and indifferent like the sun and the moon, while the sea below him rose and fell in tides. He observed things unfold as desired by him. This was characteristic of the Counsellor; this was his strategy. For four long years, Bhupsinh, an instrument himself, could discern neither the means nor the fruit thereof. He became increasingly restless. This, too, was a part of the Counsellor’s strategy, and he was satisfied that it had taken root. Bhupsinh sat leaning against a bolster on a golden carpet. From where he sat, he could see the Shivalinga. No longer impoverished, the expected changes had occurred in his attire, his person, his face and disposition. In the past, a Garasia weary of the Karbhari’s machinations had required the help of a similarly poor advisor. Now, a Rana having exhausted his patience with his Karbhari sought help of his Counsellor. But the wants of the past were different from the needs of the present. Earlier, he had to plead and please an equal: his want was greater, and friendship was based on self-interest. Now, this was replaced by a certain impatience—he could now command, and their relations were guided by mutual affection and a sense of duty. This change was apparent; yet the affection of old often shone through.