Chapter 101 — The Alternating Year

When the transformed companions had gone, Budha approached Ila in the emptied forest.

“I am the beloved son of Soma,” he said. “Turn toward me with devotion and a kindly gaze.”

Ila was alone, cut off by the boon from every memory of the earlier male life. The answer was direct: Ila said to Budha that she would act as he wished and was under his direction. Budha, already moved by desire, lived with her for that month.

There was no courtship and no promise, and nothing passed between them that would make the encounter other than what it was. A month passed in the mountain country. To Budha, absorbed in desire, it passed like a moment.

Then the month ended, and Ila woke in male form.

With the return of that form came the other half of Uma's condition. The king did not remember the life of the month just finished. Ila woke in the sleeping place and saw Budha again in the lake, standing in austerity with arms lifted above the water. The sight did not bring recognition of an intimacy. It brought confusion.

“Holy one,” Ila said, “I entered this difficult mountain with my followers. I do not see that army. Where have my people gone?”

Budha heard the question of a king who had lost not only companions but the knowledge of what had happened. He answered with consolation, but he did not tell the whole history he had already learned.

“A great rain of stones struck down your attendants,” Budha said. “You slept in this hermitage precinct, afraid of wind and rain. Take heart. Be without fear and fever. Live here as you please, sustained by fruit and roots.”

The words steadied Ila enough to answer, but they did not lessen the grief. The king mourned the destruction of the servants and companions.

“I will give up my kingdom,” Ila said. “Without my people I cannot live even for a moment. My eldest son, Shashabindu, is renowned for righteous conduct. Let him receive the rule.”

Ila could not imagine returning to the kingdom and addressing the people and household with words of disaster. The loss made the old life feel impossible; still, remaining in the mountain did not seem a life the king could choose.

Budha asked for one year.

“Do not grieve, mighty son of Kardama,” he said. “Make your dwelling here for a year. I will bring about what is good for you.”

Ila agreed to remain.

The months then turned according to the gift Uma had granted. In each month of female form, Ila lived with Budha. In each month of male form, Ila turned the mind toward dharma, the order of duty and right conduct. The sequence did not join the two lives into a single shared recollection. When one form came, the other month's experience was closed away. The division was part of Ila's condition, and no reason for it was ever given.

In the ninth month, Ila gave birth to a son of Budha. The child was Pururavas, strong and bright like his father. Ila placed the newborn at once into Budha's hands.

When Ila next returned to male form, Budha received the king with comfort and told stories ordered by dharma. The promised remedy had not yet been named, but Budha had not abandoned the purpose of the year's stay. The child remained with Budha; Ila remained within the turning condition; and the time allotted by the boon continued toward its end.