Sita: Warrior of Mithila

by Amish Tripathi

  The crowd made way as the chief of Indrapur, Shaktivel, walked up to them. His voice aggressive. ‘You come to my town and nobody informs me?’

  Shaktivel was a massive man. Swarthy. Tall. Muscled like an auroch bull, with a large belly, his arms and legs were like the trunks of a small tree. His most striking feature, however, was his extra-large moustache, which extended grandly down his cheeks. Despite his obvious strength, he was also getting on in age, as evidenced clearly by the many white hairs in his moustache and on his head. And, the wrinkles on his forehead.

  Jatayu spoke calmly, ‘We’ve just arrived, Shaktivel. No need to lose your temper.’

  To everyone present, Shaktivel’s eyes conveyed immense anger. Suddenly, he burst into loud laughter. ‘Jata, you stupid bugger! Come into my arms!’

  Jatayu laughed as he embraced Shaktivel. ‘You will always be a ridiculous oaf, Shakti!’

  Sita turned to Ram and arched an eyebrow. Amused at seeing two males express love for each other through expletives and curses. Ram smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

  The crowds around began cheering loudly as the two friends held each other in a long and warm embrace. Clearly, the relationship meant a lot to them. Equally clearly, they were more brothers than friends. Finally, Shaktivel and Jatayu stepped back, still holding each other’s hands.

  ‘Who are your guests?’ asked Shaktivel. ‘Because they are my guests now!’

  Jatayu smiled and held his friend’s shoulder, as he said, ‘Prince Ram, Princess Sita, and Prince Lakshman.’

  Shaktivel’s eyes suddenly widened. He folded his hands together into a Namaste. ‘Wow … the royal family of Ayodhya itself. It is my honour. You must spend the night in my palace. And, of course, come and see the Jallikattu tomorrow.’

  Ram politely returned Shaktivel’s Namaste. ‘Thank you for your hospitality. But it’s not correct for us to stay in your palace. We will stay in the forest close by. But we will certainly come for the competition tomorrow.’

  Shaktivel had heard of Ram’s punishment, so he didn’t press the matter. ‘You could at least give me the pleasure of having dinner with you.’

  Ram hesitated.

  ‘Nothing fashionable at my palace. Just a simple meal together in the forest.’

  Ram smiled. ‘That would be welcome.’

  ‘Look at that one,’ whispered Lakshman to Sita and Ram.

  It was just after noon the next day. Massive crowds had gathered at the lake-side ground, where the contest between man and beast was about to take place. The ground had a small entry on the eastern side, from where bulls would be led in, one by one. They had been trained to make a run for the exit at the western end, a good five hundred metres away. The men, essentially, had that distance to try and grab hold of the bull and pull out the bag of coins. If the contestant won, he would keep the bag of gold coins. More importantly, he would be called a Vrishank; a bull warrior! Of course, if any bull reached the western gate and escaped, without losing its bag, the owner of the bull would be declared winner. Needless to say, he would keep the bag of coins.

  There were various breeds of bulls that were used in the Jallikattu competitions. Among the most popular was a type of zebu bulls that were specifically cross-bred for aggression, strength, and speed. They were extremely agile and could turn around completely at the same spot in a split second. More importantly, they also had a very pronounced hump; this was a requirement for any bull competing in the Jallikattu. Some believed that the humps were essentially fat deposits. They couldn’t be more wrong. These humps were an enlargement of the rhomboideus muscle in the shoulder and back. The size of the hump, thus, was a marker of the quality of the bull. And, judging by the size of the humps on these bulls, they were, clearly, fierce competitors.

  In keeping with tradition, proud owners were parading the bulls in the ground. This was so that human contestants could inspect the beasts. As tradition also dictated, the owners, one by one, began to brag about the strength and speed of their bulls; their genealogy, the diet they were fed, the training they had received, even the number of people they had gored! The greater the monstrosity of the bull, the louder and lustier the cheers of the crowd. And as the owner stood with his bull, many from the crowd would throw their angvastrams into the ring to signify their intention to compete with that beast.

  But they all fell silent as a new bull was led in.

  ‘By the great Lord Rudra …’ whispered Lakshman, in awe.

  Sita held Ram’s hand. ‘Which poor sod is going to grab the coins from that bull’s horns?’

  The owner of the bull was aware of the impact of the mere presence of his beast. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words. He didn’t say anything; nothing about its heredity, its awesome food habits, or fearsome training. He simply looked at the crowd, arrogance dripping from every pore of his body. In fact, he didn’t expect any contestant to even try to compete against his bull.

  The bull was massive, larger than all the others that had been paraded so far. The owner didn’t clarify, but it seemed like a cross-breed between a wild gaur and the faster sub-breed of the domesticated zebu. Clearly though, the gaur genes had dominated in the making of this beast. It was gigantic, standing over seven feet tall at the shoulders with a length of nearly ten feet. It must have weighed in at one thousand five hundred kilograms. And practically all that one could see rippling under its skin was pure hard muscle. Its two horns were curved upwards, making a hollow cup on the upper part of the head, like a typical gaur bull. Zebu genes had prevailed in the make of the beast’s skin. It was whitish grey and not dark brown like gaur skins usually are. Perhaps the only other place where the zebu genes had won was the hump. Normally, a gaur has an elongated ridge on its back; it’s flat and long. But this bull had a prominent and very large hump on its upper shoulders and back. This was very, very important. For without that hump, this beastly bull would have been disqualified from the Jallikattu.

  If a competitor managed to grab hold of the hump of a bull, his main task was to hold on tight, even as the bull bucked aggressively, trying to shake the human off. Through the tussle, the man had to somehow hold on; and if he held on long enough and pulled tight, the bull would finally slow down and the man could grab the bag.

  The owner suddenly spoke. Loudly. Disconcertingly, considering the demonic animal he led, the voice of the man was soft and feminine. ‘Some of you may think this bull is all about size. But speed matters as well!’

  The owner let go of the rope and whistled softly. The bull charged out in a flash. Its speed blinding. It was faster than any other bull on this day.

  Lakshman stared, awestruck. Gaurs are not meant to be this fast!

  The bull turned rapidly in its spot, displaying its fearsome agility. As if that wasn’t enough, it suddenly started bucking aggressively, and charging towards the fence. The crowd fell back in terror. Its dominance established, the bull sauntered back to its owner, lowered its head and snorted aggressively at the crowd.

  Magnificent!

  Loud and spontaneous applause filled the air.

  ‘Looks like the hump and skin colour are not the only things it inherited from its zebu ancestor,’ whispered Sita.

  ‘Yes, it has inherited its speed as well,’ said Lakshman. ‘With that massive size and speed … It’s almost like me!’

  Sita looked at Lakshman with a smile. It disappeared as she saw the look on her brother-in-law’s face.

  ‘Don’t …’ whispered Sita.

  ‘What a beast,’ said Lakshman, admiringly. ‘It will be a worthy competitor.’

  Ram placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, holding him back. But before Lakshman could do anything, a loud voice was heard. ‘I will compete with that bull!’

  Everyone’s eyes turned towards a violet-coloured, obviously expensive angvastram flying into the ring. Beyond the wooden fence stood a fair, ridiculously muscular and very hairy man of medium height. He wore a simple cream-coloured dhoti with one end of i
t sticking out like a tail. The clothes may have been simple, but the bearing was regal.

  ‘That’s Vali,’ said Jatayu. ‘The King of Kishkindha.’

  Vali stood close to the barricaded entrance. The gaur-zebu bull was about to be let loose. It was a covered gate and the bull couldn’t see who or what was waiting on the other side. Three bulls had already run. Two had been baited and their gold coins grabbed. But one bull had escaped with its package. It was a rapid game. Individual races rarely lasted more than a minute. There were at least a hundred more bulls to run. But everyone knew that this was the match to watch.

  The priest of the local temple bellowed out loud. ‘May the Vrishank above all Vrishanks, Lord Rudra, bless the man and the beast!’

  This was the standard announcement before any Jallikattu match in Indrapur. And as usual, it was followed by the loud and reverberating sound of a conch shell.

  After a moment’s silence, the loud clanking of metal gates was heard.

  ‘Jai Shri Rudra!’ roared the crowd.

  From the dark interiors of the covered gate, the beast emerged. Usually, bulls charged out, thundering past the press of humans who tried to lunge from the sides and grab the hump of the animal.

  Getting in front of the bull was dangerous for it could gore you with its horns. Being at the back was equally dangerous for it could kick outwards with its formidable hind legs. Its side was the best place to be. Which is why, bulls were trained to dash across, giving men less time to try and grab from the two sides.

  But this gaur-zebu bull simply sauntered out. Supremely sure of its abilities. Vali, who was waiting beside the gate, hidden from view, leapt up as soon as the bull emerged. Considering Vali was nearly one-and-a-half feet shorter than the bull, it was a tribute to his supreme physical fitness that he managed to get his arms around the bull’s massive hump as he landed. The bull was startled. Someone had dared to hold its hump. It started bucking wildly. Bellowing loudly. Banging its hooves hard on the ground. Suddenly, showing awe-inspiring dexterity, it whirled almost a complete circle with monstrous speed. Vali lost his grip. He was flung away.

  The bull suddenly calmed down. It stared at the prone Vali, snorted imperiously and began walking away. Slowly. Towards the exit. Staring into the crowds, nonchalantly.

  Someone from the crowd shouted an encouragement to Vali. ‘Come on! Get up!’

  The bull looked at the crowd and stopped. It then turned towards the lake, presenting its backside to the crowd. It slowly raised its tail and urinated. Then, maintaining its blasé demeanour, it started walking again. Towards the exit. Just as leisurely.

  Lakshman laughed softly, as he shook his head. ‘Forget about baiting this bull. The bull is, in fact, baiting us!’

  Ram tapped Lakshman on his shoulder. ‘Look at Vali. He’s getting up.’

  Vali banged his fists hard on his chest and sprinted ahead. Light on his feet. His long hair flying in the wind. He came up from behind the bull.

  ‘This man is a maniac!’ said Lakshman, worried but animated. ‘That bull can crush his chest with a single blow from its hind legs!’

  As Vali came close to the bull, he jumped up, soaring high. He landed on top of the bull. The surprised beast, which hadn’t seen Vali come up from behind, bellowed loudly and went up on its hind legs. Trying to shake the king off. But Vali held on firmly. Screaming at the top of his lungs!

  The outraged bull roared. Louder than the man who clung to it. Letting its front legs fall to the ground, it lowered its head and bucked wildly. But Vali held on, screaming all the time.

  The bull suddenly leapt into the air and shook its body. It still could not get rid of the man holding on desperately to its hump.

  The entire crowd had fallen silent. In absolute awe. They had never seen a Jallikattu match last so long. The only sounds were the loud bellows of the bull and the roars of Vali.

  The bull leapt up again and readied to fall to its side. Its weight would have crushed Vali to death. He quickly let go of the bull. But not fast enough.

  The bull landed on its side. Vali escaped the bulk, but its front legs lashed Vali’s left arm. Lakshman heard the bone crack from where he stood. To his admiration, Vali did not scream in pain. The bull was up on its feet in no time and trotted away. From a distance, it looked at Vali. Anger blazing in its eyes. But it kept its distance.

  ‘The bull is angry,’ whispered Ram. ‘I guess it has never had a human go so far.’

  ‘Stay down,’ said Sita, almost willing Vali to remain on the ground.

  Lakshman stared at Vali silently.

  If a man remained curled up on the ground, unmoving like a stone, a bull normally would not charge. But if he stood up …

  ‘Fool!’ hissed Sita, as she saw Vali rising once again, his bloodied and shattered left arm dangling uselessly by his side. ‘Stay down!’

  Lakshman’s mouth fell open in awe. What a man!

  The bull too seemed shocked and enraged that the man had risen once again. It snorted and shook its head.

  Vali banged his chest repeatedly with his right fist and roared loudly, ‘Vali! Vali!’

  The crowd too began shouting.

  ‘Vali!’

  ‘Vali!’

  The bull bellowed loudly, and banged its front hooves hard on the ground. A warning had been given.

  Vali banged his chest again, his shattered left arm swinging uselessly by his side. ‘Vali!’

  The bull came up on its hind legs and bellowed once again. Much louder this time. Almost deafeningly loud.

  And then, the beast charged.

  Lakshman jumped over the fence, racing towards the bull at the same time.

  ‘Lakshman!’ screamed Ram, as he and Sita also leapt over and sprinted after Lakshman.

  Lakshman ran diagonally, bisecting the path between Vali and the animal. Luckily for the prince of Ayodhya, the bull did not see this new threat.

  Lakshman was much taller than Vali. He was also far more bulky and muscular. But even Lakshman knew that brute strength was useless against this gargantuan beast. He knew he would have only one chance. The bull’s horns were unlike the pure zebu breed; pure zebu bulls had straight, sharp horns which worked like blunt knives while goring. The gaur-zebu bull’s horns, on the other hand, were curved upwards, making a hollow in the upper part of the head.

  The bull was focused on Vali. It had lowered its head and was thundering towards him. It didn’t notice Lakshman come up suddenly from the side. Lakshman leapt forward, timing his jump to perfection, pulling his legs up. As he soared above the bull’s head, he quickly reached out with his hand and yanked the bag off the horns. For that split second, the bull kept charging forward and Lakshman’s feet came in line with the bull’s head. He pushed out with his legs. Hard. Effectively using the bull’s head as leverage, he bounced away. Lakshman’s weight and size were enough to push the head of the bull down. As he bounded away, rolling on the field, the bull’s head banged into the hard ground and it tripped, falling flat on its face.

  Ram and Sita used the distraction to quickly pick up Vali and sprint towards the fence.

  ‘Leave me!’ screamed Vali, struggling against the two. ‘Leave me!’

  Vali’s struggle led to more blood spilling out of his shattered arm. It increased the pain dramatically. But Ram and Sita did not stop.

  Meanwhile, the bull quickly rose to its feet and bellowed loudly. Lakshman raised his hand, showing the bag he held.

  The bull should have charged. But it had been trained well. As soon as it saw the bag of coins, it lowered its head and snorted. It looked behind at its owner, who was standing close to the exit. The owner smiled and shrugged, mouthing the words, ‘You win some. You lose some.’

  The bull looked back at Lakshman, snorted, and lowered its head again. Almost as if it was accepting defeat gracefully. Lakshman pulled his hands together into a Namaste and bowed low to the magnificent beast.

  The bull then turned around and started walking away. Towards
its owner.

  Vali, meanwhile, had lost consciousness, as Sita and Ram carried him over the fence.

  Chapter 29

  Late in the evening, Shaktivel came to the forest edge where Ram and his band were resting. A few men followed the Chief of Indrapur, bearing large bundles of weapons in their hands.

  Ram stood up, folding his hands together in a Namaste. ‘Greetings, brave Shaktivel.’

  Shaktivel returned Ram’s greeting. ‘Namaste, great Prince.’ He pointed to the bundles being carefully laid on the ground by his men. ‘As requested by you, all your weapons have been repaired, shone, polished, and sharpened.’

  Ram picked up a sword, examined its edge and smiled. ‘They are as good as new.’

  Shaktivel’s chest swelled with pride. ‘Our metalsmiths are among the best in India.’

  ‘They clearly are,’ said Sita, examining a spear closely.

  ‘Prince Ram,’ said Shaktivel, coming close, ‘a private word.’

  Ram signalled Sita to follow him, as he was pulled aside by Shaktivel.

  ‘You may need to leave in haste,’ said Shaktivel.

  ‘Why?’ asked a surprised Sita.

  ‘Vali.’

  ‘Someone wanted him dead?’ asked Ram. ‘So, they’re angry with us now?’

  ‘No, no. Vali is the one who is angry with Princess Sita and you.’

  ‘What?! We just saved his life.’

  Shaktivel sighed. ‘He doesn’t see it that way. According to him, the two of you and Prince Lakshman made him lose his honour. He’d rather have died in the Jallikattu arena than be rescued by someone else.’

  Ram looked at Sita, his eyes wide in surprise.

  ‘It is not in my town’s interest to have royal families fight each other here,’ said Shaktivel, folding his hands together in apology. ‘When two elephants fight, the grass is the first to get trampled.’

  Sita smiled. ‘I know that line.’

  ‘It’s a popular line,’ said Shaktivel. ‘Especially among those who are not from the elite.’

  Ram placed his hand on Shaktivel’s shoulder. ‘You have been our host. You have been a friend. We do not want to cause you any trouble. We’ll leave before daybreak. Thank you for your hospitality.’