The harsh stone floor was slick with a thick slime of blood, sweat, urine and faecal matter. The fetid bowels of Dhanananda’s prison complex heralded the arrival of the new visitor with the bloodcurdling screams of tortured inmates. The dim light provided by a few flaming torches revealed little of the roughly-hewn rock walls with an assortment of chains and restraints bolted to them. As the gate to the filthy cell slammed shut, Chanakya felt something slither over his foot, probably a snake. He instinctively slammed down his other foot on the slippery creature and held his foot down until he felt the reptile lying motionless. He stood glued to the spot for quite some time, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark. As his pupils dilated, he was able to discern a couple of rats fighting over a piece of flesh, quite possibly human. ‘One may wash one’s anus a hundred times and it will still be vile,’ thought Chanakya, ‘and Dhanananda may hand out a thousand endowments to Brahmins but he will still remain corrupt!’ Chanakya set about finding himself a corner that was least polluted and eventually sat himself down with his back against a damp wall.
