SHAIBYA
The Palace of Amaravati (the present Kashmir) gleamed with thousands of tiny lights, cunningly placed among floral wreaths and flags. The scent of champa, jasmine and sandal filled the air, and strains of joyful music welcomed every guest. Chandra, the Lord of Night, hung in the sky like a great silver ball, and myriads of stars came hastening to their places, to watch the splendid festival of the Dev-Raj (King of Gods) Indra.
In the centre of the great outer courtyard of the Palace, beneath a rich canopy of crimson and gold, sparkling with sunstones, stood the throne of Indra, and, flanking it on each side, were the thrones and seats of the guests, each adorned with the symbols of the occupant’s rank. Courtiers, attendants and men-at-arms stood grouped behind, and in front of all was spread an immense dark green carpet, bordered with gold.
When all were assembled, the gates of the Palace were closed and the entertainment began. Sweet music ravished every ear, and, presently, the curtain behind the carpet was raised, and there floated forward forms and faces of rare loveliness. Like flowers swayed by the summer’s breeze, the dancers bent, now here, now there, then straightened their slender figures and circled in bewildering grace before the happy guests. Sight and sound seemed blended into one harmonious whole, and the enraptured faces of the vast assembly expressed their pleasure. Never was entertainment like this, and Sachi, Queen of Heaven, turned to her beloved Dev-Indra, with her face flushed with joy, to tell him bow proud she was to have such an assembly, which was due to her lord, when there came a wail of discord. Esraf, bina aud kartai and many other instruments, seemed to ignore each other, and the ears of the listeners were now pierced with an inharmonious medley, which filled the Court. Then came a terrible crash and silence. The moon and stars were hidden. The countenances
