The Royal Tenant

I assume you haven't heard about Raja Ravindra Ravish Ranvit Rahan Renesh Rathore. But you've heard about the likes of him - people who carry enough names on their birth certificate to christen an entire family, and a royal lineage iconic enough for others to acknowledge whenever one passes them on the street.

I also assume you haven't heard about our neighbourhood, or the new tenant who moved into its shabbiest house. It stood as an oddity on a corner of the road. The bricks on the wall which enclosed it were not where they should have been. The owner of the house got a better job deeper into the heart of the city last fall, along with a better salary which allowed him to purchase a house farther towards the outskirts. He had held onto the house, saying that inherited property could not be sold off. Yet, we now got to know it could be rented out.

As it turned out to be, the new tenant who lived in the colourless house next to its decaying garden was Raja Ravindra Ravish Ranvit Rahan Renesh Rathore. We became acquainted with him when he joined us for chess on the first weekend after he had moved into his new home, if not with his royal lineage.

We played on a table which had the sixty-four boxes of a board engraved on it. Both the table and the pieces were worn with the passing of age. They had been the instruments of intellect for many years. I remembered it being at the same place when I shifted into the neighbourhood myself a couple of decades ago. Now, I had as many strands of black hair on my head as there were black pawns on the chess board.

At least four chairs always surrounded this table, which was placed on an edge of the neighbourhood park. It was a patch of greenery reserved by the local folks amidst the city's growing affinity towards concrete. Children played football on the other side of the park - the ball as well as the youth seldom ventured towards where we sat. Theirs was the age for running around, after all, not for hunching over idle wood for hours on end. The pieces were locked in a box kept beneath the table, so that they were not misplaced. The keys were put into a hollow space inside the table itself. It was a manufacturing mistake, but a useful one.

"Welcome... You are new here, aren't you?" the eldest man amongst us said, getting up from the ongoing game as he did so, to greet the newest resident of the neighbourhood. He was in simple attire, like the rest of us, but perhaps the youngest amongst us. He was either in his thirties or his forties, depending on whether he dyed his hair.

"I am", he had said with a smile. "Is this a daily ritual?" One of us got up to bring a spare chair to the table.

 I said, "It indeed is. Well, as long as it doesn't rain."

"I've always had an affinity for chess myself, if not for the endgame." He sat down in front of the white pieces. A new player always needs to - he gets a chance to play his natural style, while the rest get to see what it is. As he made his first few moves, he added to his comment - "Neither do I have an affinity for the middle game." And as he blundered away a pawn, he said with perfect timing - "...or the opening."

I pulled out a cigarette as the game moved along. Black seemed to be in a stronger position for the longest time. All of us leaned back, including the tenant, who seemed to be resigned to a game which would not be going his way. But his calm was betrayed when he had the slightest of smiles on his face after touching his knight, which had been idle in a corner for the longest time.

And then, he made a twofold move which ended with him trapping the black Queen. "Ah," he said, looking up, "do wonders ever cease?"

In the days to come, this would be the phrase with which he ended any train of thought, or any sequence of moves. Even when a calculated risk did not pay off, or his breakfast did not seem to suit him, his persona was one of joy, which influenced everyone else who gathered around the table. Most of us went there after returning from our work, or closing up our shops. I had never spotted him leaving his home when most of us did. At times, I did see him on a walk at the park around the same time, in his casual kurta, looking at the scenes around him. He seemed to have no hurry in his steps and no burden on his shoulders.

Up until that day, we had known him as Ravindra - no one more, and no one else. Amidst the discussion of tactics on the board, and politics and sports off the board, there was no time left for much personal discussion. Ravindra was also one of the quieter people in our gatherings. He always had a keen eye on the board, no matter who was playing. He nodded at a remark he liked, and closed his eyes to something he did not. He had become known around the colony, as that of a simple man with simple tastes, living in a simple home.

It was on one of these untimely walks in the afternoon when I met him, having come out for a stroll after lunch. He waved at me, and the both of us naturally concluded we should sit down at the table for a game of chess. I opened the box, we arranged the pieces, and started playing. The absence of anyone around us prompted the conversation to meander from the headlines of the day to one with more personal exchanges.

"What do you do for a living?" Ravindra asked me. I was the only other person who had irregular timings for work. “I’m a theatre actor. Also an accountant, but the owner of the business owns the biggest auditorium in the city. I update his books once a week, and spend the rest of my time practicing with my troupe, often at his auditorium.” We were the most famous in the city. The art of acting and accounting had been kind to me.

"And what do you do for a living?" I asked Ravindra from the other side of the board, even as I launched an ambitious back-rank offensive against him.

"I am a King, so the money takes care of itself. Leaves me with a lot of time to do what I want," he said. His words rolled off with nonchalance which came only after having said them many times before. He pushed forward his King on the board to escape the trap, and lay one of his own over the next few moves. On the other hand, I remained silent.

"A king?" I asked, having negotiated a tricky passage of play. "As in, a royal?"

"Oh yes. As a matter of fact, my full name is Raja Ravindra Ravish Ranvit Rahan Renesh Rathore." Without looking up, he played another move. "Ah, do wonders ever cease?"

At first, I thought he was joking - he did have a knack for unconventional humour. When he finally understood how I had read his words, he seemed to be uneasy. As a way of compensation, he invited me to his house in the evening. I expected it to be as shabby as it had always been. The entrance did not give away any hints about things being different. I was in casual clothing when I rang his doorbell after checking my wristwatch to ensure it was past six. He opened the door and let me into the house. As soon as he asked me to step inside, things were not as they should have been. The floor was furnished. The furniture had a rustic look - not because of ill-maintenance, but because of their evident antiquity. There were fancy paintings hung on the wall. He pointed towards one which was the brightest. "That's the freshest of the lot." He had a smile on his face. "Finished it just last weekend. Had some trouble finding a store in this city to laminate the painting, but found an excellent one in the local market."

Finally, I spoke, even as I continued to look around the room we were in. It was in complete contrast to his clothes. Why, they seemed perfectly fine now, just much humbler than what a man with his wealth usually dressed like. "So, you paint?"

"Yes, it's one of my few comforts." He looked at his paintings for a while. Then, he jittered out of his stance. "Oh, I almost forgot my manners! If wonders ever do cease..."

He pointed towards the set of sofas occupying the center of the living room. “Please take a seat.” I sat on the side of one of them. Its cloth was made of the finest silk. "Would you care for some tea?" he asked.

I nodded at him. "I'll be back in a moment then,” he said. And he indeed was.

"Raja ji..." I started. The host waved off the solution. "Brother, you are older than me. Please, you can call me Ravindra." He kept down the tray, which was made of a precious metal I could not recognise. As we sipped on our tea, he continued. "You might be wondering why I have travelled to the other side of the country."

I remained silent, but nodded.

"Being a king is a privilege. It makes life seem a lot kinder than it perhaps is. Makes one forget that it meets no one halfway." He sipped on his tea, and I continued to sip on mine. "There is a certain pleasure attached to the royal lifestyle, of course. But despite all the time and luxury it has given me, I do not have an affinity for it. So, it was a couple of months ago when I informed my family of my decision. I have abdicated my throne. An independent democratic country doesn't really need royals from small princely states like ours. Except for being in the papers with social messages, anyways." He twirled his moustache. "As it turns out be, my brother’s always been the more handsome out of the two of us anyways."

He smiled, then asked me - "I shifted here, without any companions, and with just a few of my belongings. I haven’t married, my parents passed away some time ago. Haven’t abandoned much, to be honest, except for an obsolete throne which should no longer be occupied." He looked at his table, which had foreign magazines stacked on top of each other.

“I have come to this town to get away from it all. Only my family and closest friends know where I am. In a sense, you could say I’ve retired from royalty.”

Putting down his cup after emptying out its last sip, he continued - “I own many shares and inherited quite a lot from my father. I do a fair bit of philantrophy with my savings, but would like to do something on my own. I have been painting ever since I got here.”

I nodded at his creations. “And... you are good at it too.”

Ravindra smiled. “Thank you, kind sir. But I have a slight proposition for you...”

I leaned in, curious to know what had piqued his interest. He said, “I’ve always been a connoisseur of theatre. When I went to study in college under a different name, I became quite popular as an actor in the local productions myself. But royal duties took over my time after I graduated, and here I am. A bit rough on the edges of acting now, but I do believe I could perform any role well.”

“I am a part of a troupe myself.”

“So I heard, brother. If I’m not mistaken, you went on tour once. You made the papers in our town as well.”

“It was quite the spectacle, yes.” I nodded, as the pleasant memories came back from my first national tour. It had been quite the learning curve.. “Would you be interested in a role with us, sir?” I asked.

“Of course. But I do not wish to impose,” he said. Even against the backdrop of royalty which reflected off of the walls, his own demeanour remained humble.

“Oh, do not worry, friend. We were looking for someone to play an important role ourselves. And if you’re as good as you say, you would be the perfect casting for it...”

We discussed the lines he would have to prepare when he came to the theatre the next day for a trial. Luckily, he had a copy of Shakespeare’s complete plays, from which we agreed upon a significant monologue for him to enact tomorrow as a form of audition.

I stayed at his home for a while, talking about other things – we shared more interests than he had let on. In private, he finally said what he thought about the men running the country. It was not a glowing critique, but an appropriate one. He also disliked golf or jockey, which were too extravagant for him. We talked about the line-up of the Indian cricket team instead. “Because if you’ve got to be passionate about a complicated sport, it should be one which could end with a draw even after playing it for five days,” he said with a smile. This time, he let on he was being humourous.

When it was finally time for me to take a leave, he reached across to place his hand on my shoulder. “It has been nice knowing you so far.”

“You too, Ravindra.”

“A pleasure. But I had a request. I would like to keep a low profile while I live here. I quite like the town and the people. Free air was a thing I was afraid I would never get. Yet, here I am. The house I have chosen is one people would not look at twice for the right reasons when they walk past it. Since I have been reclusive, most of the people in the country wouldn’t know what I look like. Not in this day and age, at the very least. So, could you please not tell anyone else about my... royal lineage?”

“Oh no,” I said, as reassuringly as I could. “I will say you’ve come here to pursue your passion for theatre. Would that be fine with you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. I thanked him for the tea, and then I left.

When we met for chess in the evening the next day, the rest of us had already gathered. “Ravindra, you look quite happy today,” the one who sat across the board remarked.

“Well, I am. I landed an acting role with his troupe.” He pointed at my direction. I was sitting with my hands folded, observing the game as it was slowly revealing its many layers. I nodded and said, “He is a perfect fit for the role.” He had come to the theatre earlier in the day to deliver a perfect audition. The rest of the cast was glad to take him in after sharing a round of tea.

“Which character are you stepping into the shoes of, then?” the player with the white pieces asked, scratching his beard.

“King Lear,” Ravindra said with a smile.

“A King?” he asked, astonished. “You look the farthest thing away from one... In a good way, of course.”

Raja Ravindra Ravish Ranvit Rahan Renesh Rathore moved his King on the board, and nodded. “Ah well, do wonders ever cease?”