Resting on the strong pink petals of the Sindoor tree, in the thick humid darkness, Malaya sits with her beauty. She lives in a Queendom of bees deep in the Kalesar forest. She reclines on thin bony elbows, observing the elegance of her long, black hair. A section cascades over her forehead cutting her face into beautifully broken segments. Her hair reaches the back of he knees, but sprawled on the flower petal she has it wrapped into a pillow and underneath her head.

Her hands brush the Sindoor petal as she pulls them to her cheeks to wipe her tears. The color of the petal stains her face vermillion. She cries because she is thinking about terrible things; she is thinking about the Queendom she was born into that is sick with a curse.

The curse is an infection that is spreading throughout her hive. It brings to the bees blindness and sadness. The blindness comes first; at anytime it can set in. A bee could be in flight when its eyes, just, shut off. Most bees decide to crawl on their hands and feet because it would be dangerous to continue flying. This is when the sadness comes; bees are able to see many more colors than people. These colors give the bees much joy, as does the freedom of their ability to fly. Imagine how sad you might be if all that were stripped away. The tears of those affected by the sickness spread the infection.

Protected from the tears of the sick bees, Malaya lives in the castle with her mother, the Queen Bee, and her sister, Ananda. Although they are safe, sadness still invades their lives. The Queen is tortured by seeing the hive in such a desperate state; it is saddest for her to watch the devastation of her Queendom. As a queen, she is immune to the blindness, but she fails to see the potential, joy and bliss in her own sight.

Ananda, Malaya's plainer and younger sister, is also unhappy. She wants more than anything to be the next Queen. She thinks that there is much that she can do to help the hive, but she is underestimated because of her homeliness and because of her green disposition. The Queen, however, sees potential in Malaya. She sees her own beauty and pain reflected in Malaya and insists that she accompany her to the feast that will turn Malaya into the next Queen. Malaya wants anything but to be the next Queen Bee.

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Jack buzzes through the damp, Indian morning air. His wings may be thinner and smaller than the average bee, but when they beat fast enough he can fly with the speed of the icy mountain winds. “Princess Maya!” he timidly calls out, chasing after Malaya and her sister as they work tediously. Malaya pulls herself out of a fuchsia floret and studies the stranger as he approaches. Although peeved by the interruption, Malaya attempts to pleasantly greet Jack, keeping her unwanted future in mind. Jack pierces her with a genuine smile as he lands on a nearby leaf.

With an energy that never seems to fade, Ananda rushes herself towards Jack.

“Hi! I’m Princess Anan-“

“Oh, I know, I’m Jack… just another bee,” Jack tries a smile to calm his nerves and fidgets with three of his four hands.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Yes,” slights Malaya, “Why aren’t you courting and flirting with the other male bees?” (footnote 1)

“I thought, considering the circumstances of our hive and the blindness, that you—I- I- I mean the female bees—could use some extra help. I’m sorry; I can leave,” Jack responds almost inaudibly, as he begins to take off into flight.

“Jack; you said your name was Jack, right?” begins Ananda, attempting to console. “We would really love your help. It would mean a lot.”

Hesitantly, Jack lowers himself back onto the leaf, looking purposefully at the ground. “Ok, alright.”

Malaya buries herself back into her floret, embarrassed by her rudeness, as Ananda explains to Jack her helpful hints in the area of gathering pollen. When done, Ananda immediately rushes off to continue her work. She moves at an unbelievably quick rate; fluttering across the forest at a fly’s speed as though she were trying to impress someone. Jack pokes his head, skeptically, into a flower near Malaya’s. Slowly, the two begin talking.

“You know, the other day I was flying through a people’s hive and I observed a strange people ceremony,” declares Jack after he and Malaya had been talking about honey for a considerable time.

“People do many strange things.” Their conversation is a strange thing: choppy and awkward.

“There was a male person who was in love with a female person and I didn’t understand but she had her face painted with red… stuff and they put necklaces made out of flowers around the other’s necks.”

“Flower’s are very pretty, I’m sure they’d make lovely necklaces.”

“It was odd for me to see them used in such a bizarre way. Also, an old man, who was a friend of the female, fed the other man honey.”

“I didn’t know that people could make honey.”

They pause to search their closest flora for pollen.

Pulling herself back out, Malaya remarks, “I’ve never been to the people hives before, but I’ve always wanted to go.”

Excited to be useful, Jack immediately jumps in with, “I could take you there!”

Lighting up, “I would, lo- I would- I would probably be much safer if I didn’t go.” Malaya hides back in her work. Although curious, Jack is careful not to ask too many uncomfortable questions.

“Alright,” he sighs.

    
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With Ananda’s speed and Jack’s help, it wasn’t long until the trio had enough pollen to return to the hive. Playfully zooming in circlets and spirals, and zigzagging through trees Ananda and Jack race to the castle. Malaya plays much more subtly. Peacefully nudging left and nudging right, left and right, left, right… so that she creates waves in the air behind her. Time passes so quickly when you play like this and before Malaya could think of it, she was hovering in front of the Queendom.

The Queendom lies in a strong thick Sal tree, which is very old. It's rumored to be the very tree that Buddha was born beneath. Sal trees appear as incredible columns, stretching up perpendicular to the floor. The people often use Sal trees, like this very one, as timber. But old spirits protect the Kalesar; they convinced the people to turn it into a Nationally Protected Forest. On the lowest of this tree’s branches (perhaps 10 feet from the base of the tree) hangs the physical beehive, where the pollen is manufactured into honey and where most of the other bees live, crowded. Malaya could hear the tears from within the hive and could make out a few bees crawling up the trunk of the Sal.

As a series of holes within the tree’s trunk, is the castle where Malaya, Ananda and the Queen Bee live. The entrance lies opposite the branch that carries the hive. There are but 4 rooms and most are bare. The first room is the grand atrium. Because the entrance to the atrium faces due south, precisely at noon, the sun decorates it, abstractly, with sunshine and tree’s shadows. The holes to the other three rooms lie within the atrium. There are two bedrooms: one is for Malaya and her sister and the other is for the Queen, of course. And lastly there is the dinning hall, lavishly decorated with crystallized honey and fall leafs. Malaya and Ananda are forbidden to enter the dining room until one of them becomes the Queen Bee.

As Malaya was about to zoom into the grand atrium she noticed a butterfly flutter between her and the Queendom. Butterflies are Malaya’s most favorite things. She noted the delicacy of the butterfly’s colorful tapestries waving behind it. The two majestic long antennae were feathered as though the butterfly were wearing an elaborate headdress. It’s always been a wonder to Malaya how a creature so avant-garde can maintain its balance and poise in flight. She sighs at the butterfly’s solitary nature; butterflies are not weighed down by hives.

Moments after observing the butterfly’s exit Malaya collected herself and met her sister and her new friend in the grand atrium.

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Jack noticed Malaya’s figure as she flew out of the sunlight and into the cool tree’s hole.

“Maya!” greeted her sister with a hug. “Mom wants to see you.”

“Ananda, it’s not polite to call the Queen ‘mom’”

“It’s not polite to keep her waiting.”

“Right. Nice to see you, Jack.”

Before she could here his muffled response, Malaya hovered into the Queen’s throne room. The wood walls in the Queen's room have the illusion of melting. Very little light makes it’s way into her room. Malaya always has the exotic sense that the room is empty whenever she enters, despite knowing that the Queen will be found in her throne as always. Her throne appears brightest, the crystalline white material of the intricate chair is almost incandescent. Carefully carved on the ancient throne are bees, but they appear in such patterns that you get lost, perhaps imagining tigers or elephants even though the images of the bees are so detailed.

The Queen rests impatiently in her throne. The light reflected off of it brings the shadows over her face and makes the bags under her eyes heavier than they really are.

“Now careful, Ananda. You’ll run into the throne and perhaps chip it,” warns a smooth molasses voice.

Unaware that her sister was joining her as well, Malaya used her antennae to locate Ananda on her right and was shocked to discover Jack as well.

“How can you see in here?” asked Ananda.

“I’ve learned to notice the subtleties in this world,” explains the Queen referring to the room she keeps in. 

( FOOTNOTE 1 )     In bee culture the female bees are the drones that gather the pollen and produce the honey, while the male bees practice various skills and arts so that they can hopefully be the one who wins over the next Queen Bee. The bee that the Queen chooses sacrifices his life to produce the next generation. Among male bees, performing this sacrifice is the ultimate honor a bee could receive.