Vanara

by Anand Neelakantan

  Baali saw that the lightning had struck a tree at the top end of the hill. After momentary darkness, the tree burst into flames. The eagle that was coming towards him was blinded for a moment when the lightning struck so close. That was his only chance. He left the safety of the rock that he was leaning on and ran up the hill. The bird screeched and turned towards him. He had to fight the rain falling in sheets, the water hurtling down the cliff and beat the bird in the race. The bird hesitated as he ran towards the burning tree. He somehow made it in time before the bird decided to attack him again. As the bird came to him, he picked up a burning branch that had fallen on the ground and struck the bird. The bird had anticipated the move and it deftly jumped sideways. He waved the flaming branch at the bird and yelled at it to go away. The bird screeched in reply and waved its wings. Baali stared at his hand in shock. The flame had gone off. The eagle came at him for the final charge. Baali dove to the tree that was still burning and with all his might he pushed it towards the charging bird. The tree crashed on the bird and the eagle was engulfed in fire. It tried to escape as the tree pinned it down. Its wing had caught fire. Baali screamed with relief and thumped his chest. It was then he noticed that his hands were on fire. He hadn’t even felt the pain. He dipped his hands in flowing water and fell down exhausted. Near him, the bird was trying to wriggle out from under the tree. Its cries had become pitiful and Baali felt sorry for the bird.

  Just then he remembered that his brother’s life was in danger. The second bird had gone to hunt him. He had to somehow get down and find his brother. He tried to get up on his hands, but the searing pain of his burned palms took away his consciousness. He started hallucinating that he and his brother were fighting the birds together. The faces of the birds turned to those of demons, then they changed to an unknown man having features of the Deva race which again morphed to become an Asura with ten faces. Suddenly, his brother started fighting him instead of the attacking the birds. Nothing made sense. He was only aware of the pain. Baali continued to scream, his limbs writhing in pain. Why was my brother fighting me? ‘I want him to be safe, I want him to be happy,’ he kept on murmuring between his screams.

  Between his nightmare, he had a strange feeling that the injured bird had started crawling towards him. I have no strength left to fight, he thought warily, before the nightmare possessed him again and took him back to a more painful world where his brother wanted him dead.

  Chapter 6

  Sugreeva tried to dig the floor. The men were trying to drag him out. It was straight out of his worst nightmare. He could hear the bird screeching above. Why were they trying to feed him to the bird? They were his own people who his brother always talked about, who he wanted to join and they were about to feed him to the giant bird. He tried telling that he too was a Vana Nara, but his cries were of no avail. He was too weak to fight the two men who were dragging him out. There was no hope left. He was going to die like his brother. He closed his eyes tight and resigned himself to his fate.

  ‘Leave the boy.’

  Sugreeva heard a gruff voice. There was an angry cry from the men. The men dropped him and he hit his head on the hard ground. He opened his eyes and saw a woman standing between him and the rest of the tribe. Her back was turned towards him, but he could see that everyone else was angry with her. They started yelling at her.

  ‘No one escapes Jatayu.’

  ‘It’s a sin.’

  ‘Once the great one eyes a prey, the prey belongs to the great one.’

  ‘Defying the great one will bring misfortune to the entire tribe.’

  The woman raised her hand. ‘Enough.’

  Her voice was like that of a man. There was an angry silence. Sugreeva watched the woman with surprise. Though he could not see her face, he observed that she had strong limbs like that of a man.

  ‘Those who still want to follow the old ways, can leave now. They can go back to Jambavan,’ she said.

  ‘We didn’t follow you to lose our religion, our beliefs,’ a voice rose from among the men.

  ‘Who said that?’ the woman roared. The men looked down. No one dared to talk. The bird screeched above the thorn jungle, as if angry at the silence.

  ‘Cowards!’ the woman shouted.

  ‘It . . . it’s our law, our forefathers won’t forgive us . . .’ an old man said in a low voice.

  ‘What law? We don’t live for our forefathers’ sake. If your faith says that we have to sacrifice someone who took asylum, it’s time to burn your faith.’

  There were angry murmurs from the crowd.

  ‘We have sacrificed enough. We have lived like beasts in the forest for long. I’m ashamed of you. That bird is not God and it isn’t our fate to be devoured by it or its twin. I thought you came with me, defying Jambavan, because you were disgusted with the way we lived and died . . . because you wanted a better life for your family, your children. You’ve proved that you deserve to be nothing but slaves.’

  There was silence. The woman turned towards Sugreeva.

  ‘Get up, son.’

  Sugreeva stared at the woman. She was no woman, but a man. She had a beard.

  ‘What are you staring at? Never seen a eunuch?’ the man asked. His voice was rough, but Sugreeva could sense the kindness in it. Sugreeva stood up slowly.

  ‘Riksarajas, the man who’s also a woman. The monkey who’s also a man. Ha, I’m the leader of the rebel Vana Naras. The so-called leader of these fools, these cowards who are chained to the past.’ Riksarajas picked Sugreeva up. There were angry murmurs among the group.

  ‘It’s a sin. It will invite misfortune,’ the old man muttered again.

  ‘I want your help, friends. I want to end this all. I want that bird Jatayu and its twin, Sambati, chased away from the forests of Kishkinda. Better, I want them dead!’ Riksarajas addressed the group.

  There was a collective intake of breath. The old man came forward.

  ‘Riksarajas, no one talks about the great ones, the divine eagles like that.’

  ‘I will,’ Riksarajas said. ‘I will talk because I don’t want our people to die like rats. And this boy, let Ayyan bless him, he has proved that one can escape from the clutches of the great one. If a boy can escape, so can we. Perhaps we can capture those birds, perhaps even kill them.’

  The men cried, ‘Sin, sin.’

  The eunuch said, ‘Sin? Ha, you fools!’

  ‘I have no power to stop you, eunuch. I’m old and feeble,’ the old man stepped forward. ‘I followed you for my silly son’s sake. I thought you would be the answer to the tyranny of Jambavan and his minister Kesari. But you’ve proved to be a headless rebel. You’ve proved to be having the virtue of neither a man nor a woman. Woe to us who trusted an eunuch. You’re asking us to defy our beliefs.’

  ‘You want to watch this poor child die?’

  ‘You want our race to be cursed for the sake of a child who we don’t even know? Curse be upon you, eunuch. I don’t fear for my life. I spit on your face, eunuch, for you’ve betrayed our faith, our traditions. I can’t fight you, but still I can defeat you. I offer myself to the great one.’

  The old man rushed out of the thorn bush before anyone could stop him. Riskarajas ran behind him, trying to stop him, but before he could reach him, the giant eagle snapped the man in its beak. Before their eyes, it tore the man into pieces. Sugreeva watched the gory scene in horror. A young man, probably the son of the old man, was screaming and sobbing, trying to leave the, safety of the thorn bush. Risksarajas held him back, firmly, yet kindly.

  The bird finished its meal, pecked its feathers and stared at them. One by one, all the men except Riksarajas fell on their knees and bowed. The man who had lost his father was asking for forgiveness from the bird. Riksarajas stood defiant and angry. The bird let out a loud screech and in answer, Riksarajas roared back. It was feeble compared to the ear-splitting screech of the monster bird, yet it had the power of defiance that made the bird stop its screech. The bird took off, flapping its hug
e wings. The bush shook like it had been hit by a typhoon. Sugreeva saw the bird do a tight circle around the bush as if measuring them, warning them. It gave a final triumphant call and flew away. The men lay prostrate on the ground. Riksarajas, the eunuch, stood screaming at the bird until it disappeared among the dark clouds. Thunder continued to rumble and it rained heavily.

  Riksarajas turned to Sugreeva. ‘Thank you,’ he said kneeling before the young monkey boy, ‘thank you for proving to me that one can escape from the clutches of the great one.’

  Sugreeva’s lips trembled, ‘I . . . I was lucky . . . but my brother . . .’

  ‘What happened to your brother?’

  Sugreeva pointed at the distant mountain and started weeping.

  Chapter 7

  When Baali opened his eyes, the bird had crawled near him. Another couple of feet and it would be able to peck him to death. He tried crawling away. The bird let out a screech. It had lost its previous power. The cry sounded pitiful. Both its wings were broken and charred. The feathers on its head had been burned and it resembled a vulture more than an eagle now. Yet, it hadn’t lost its will to kill him. He crawled away and moaned in pain. His hands had swollen up. Water flowing over the rock had narrowed to small rivulets. Patches of water in the crevices reflected the sun like shards of broken mirror. The sky was azure, cloudless and clear. Dragonflies flitted above the rock. The bird continued to drag its half-burned body towards him. Baali had to keep clear of the bird, for now. He hoped he would recover faster than the bird. He didn’t have any more strength to fight. The eagle continued to make croaking sounds but Baali was getting used to it. In the daylight, the bird didn’t seem half as frightening as it was in the dark, stormy night. It looked like an overgrown pet seeking attention from its master. Baali looked at the bird and smiled. The sinuous eyes of the bird had nothing but malice. It wants to kill me, Baali thought. Maybe, the poor bird was very hungry.

  The bird became alert before him. It turned its head and started crawling towards the cliff in great urgency. Baali strained to lift his head and saw a woman coming with someone. Sugreeva. He was alive. Baali wanted to get up but could not. The woman paused when she saw the giant eagle. The bird screeched but it was a sound more morose than threatening. The woman kept a fair distance between herself and the giant eagle and approached Baali. Baali saw Sugreeva looking at the bird with fear. Baali wanted to cry out that he had slain the bird, but his voice came out more as a whimper.

  The woman knelt before him. He was blinded by the dazzling sunlight. He saw a woman huddled above him. Something was wrong. Baali found that the woman had stubble on her cheek; her shoulders were strong like that of a man. He was not sure whether he was still dreaming or he had woken up to a different reality. He was not even sure whether he was alive or dead. He blinked, trying to make sense of things. Sugreeva rushed to Baali and hugged him tight. Baali winced and to hide the pain he was feeling, he laughed. Relief swept over him like a wave. His brother was safe. He started sobbing.

  The man-woman was looking at the brothers with affection. The bird had reached the edge of the cliff. It tried to flap its burned wings and fly. With great difficulty it lifted itself a few feet from the ground, but collapsed in a moment. It cried in pain.

  ‘Riksarajas, a eunuch,’ the man-woman introduced himself to Baali. ‘You and your brother are remarkable. Your brother escaped from the attack of Jatayu and you’ve almost slain Sambati. I wish the fools who worship these birds as gods were here to see this.’

  Baali didn’t understand what this strange eunuch was talking about, but when he saw the shine of knife in his hand, he shouted, ‘No, no, don’t kill it.’

  The eunuch paused, ‘Why not?’

  Baali had no answer. The bird had tried its best to kill him a few hours ago, yet he didn’t want it dead. It felt wrong to kill an injured bird. Riksarajas was walking towards the bird and as if it sensed its imminent death, the bird tried to fly away.

  ‘It’s wrong to kill anything when it’s helpless.’

  Riksarajas paused. He had an amused smile when he turned to Baali. ‘Who taught you such things, son? Life doesn’t give many chances against the enemy. The best time to kill an enemy is when he is least expecting it, when he is most vulnerable. This bird and its twin have claimed many Vana Nara lives.’

  ‘How about the other bird?’ Sugreeva asked. The eunuch hesitated.

  ‘You’ve a point, boy. I think I should spare the life of this evil bird for some more time. My people consider the two giant eagles the brothers of Garuda. You boys know who Garuda is?’

  ‘The eagle of Deva God Vishnu,’ Sugreeva volunteered.

  The eunuch laughed, ‘Yes, and these birds are considered to be his brothers. Even more reason I want them dead. But I want my people to see that these are just giant eagles—some quirk of nature that has made them so gigantic. They’re perhaps the last of their species, but I’m sure they’ve no divine powers. They can be hunted and killed like any other beast. But I’m going to spare its life for now. I want my people to see it being killed, to prove that it isn’t the God. Such are the stories propagated by the Brahmins to keep us in slavery. This has to end.’

  Riksarajas hurried towards the hill top, leaving the boys alone. The bird gave another cry and tried to flap its charred wings. Sugreeva sat near Baali and held his hands.

  ‘I feared you were dead,’ Baali said softly.

  ‘I was sure you were,’ Sugreeva smiled.

  Riksarajas came back with thick vines from the forest. He tied the bird with the vines after a brief struggle.

  ‘Time to go, boys,’ the eunuch said as he lifted up Baali on his shoulders. They started climbing down the cliff carefully.

  Chapter 8

  Sugreeva sat on the floor watching Baali sleep on the reed mat spread on the mud floor. The eunuch had carried his brother to the hut of Vaidya Sushena. He didn’t know what to make of the eunuch. He was repulsed by a man who dressed like a woman. Sugreeva hadn’t seen anyone like that before. But he was the only one who was kind to him when he had met the tribe. Without Riksarajas, he would have been gobbled up by the giant bird. The thought of the giant eagle, Jatayu, sent shivers down his spine. His brother had fought a bird, more ferocious and stronger than Jatayu and won. Sugreeva didn’t know how his brother could do such admirable things. Baali was his hero. But somewhere deep inside, he felt resentment. He had seen the disbelief in the eyes of the Vana Nara tribe when they saw that he had escaped from the clutches of Jatayu. That was a momentary glory. Now with his brother almost killing the larger bird, Sambati, his achievement paled. No, I should not be having such thoughts, Sugreeva told himself. His brother had almost died for him. It was sin to be jealous of his brother. Sugreeva caressed Baali’s forehead. Baali opened his eyes and smiled weakly.

  ‘Sleep,’ Sugreeva said.

  ‘Get up, enough of sleeping.’

  Sugreeva was startled by the sudden command. He turned to see a girl of his age standing at the doorstop with a bowl in her hand. As daylight was shining behind her, he could not see her face, but his heartbeat increased.

  ‘Who’s that?’

  Sugreeva heard Baali’s annoyed voice, but before he could say anything the girl had come inside. She sat on her knees near Baali. In the slanting light that fell through the windows, Sugreeva saw that she was breathtakingly beautiful. His heart skipped a beat. She tried to lift Baali and his brother pushed her hand away. Sugreeva wished it was he who was lying on the mat instead of his brother.

  ‘Get up and eat this,’ her voice was stern.

  ‘Who are you to command me?’ Baali was irritated. Was his brother such a big fool? Was he not seeing how beautiful she was?

  ‘This is the Vaidya’s order,’ she said and tried to lift Baali up. Baali pushed her hands away and sat up leaning on the mud wall, scowling at her.

  ‘Drink or my father will be angry with me. Don’t you want your wounds to be healed? Or is it—’ she put a wooden ladle fill
ed with oozy greenish paste to his lips.

  ‘What is this? Cow dung paste?’ Baali asked.

  ‘Drink,’ she pushed it to his lips. He refused to open his mouth.

  ‘Who are you, Devi?’ Sugreeva asked politely. His heart was beating like a caged bird.

  ‘Hmm, Devi?’ she cackled. ‘Devi . . . am I, a Deva girl, to be called Devi? Where did you learn such strange manners?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know your name,’ Sugreeva said.

  ‘I never told you my name. So how will you know it?’ she laughed. Sugreeva smiled awkwardly. Baali scowled at both of them.

  ‘I need to sleep. I’m tired,’ he growled.

  ‘Drink and sleep then. You want me to sing you a lullaby?’ the girl said with a smile and pushed the ladle again to Baali’s mouth. Baali turned his head away. The girl stared at him for a moment. Sugreeva was keenly watching her. He saw her gaze settling on Baali’s shoulders, where there was a gash. Some dark paste had been applied over it, but the skin around it was still swollen. Without warning, the girl poked the gash. Baali screamed in pain and in a flash, the girl emptied the medicine into his open mouth. She closed his mouth and nose with her hands before he could spit it out. She left him only after he had swallowed the hideous paste. She then stood up with a victorious smile. Sugreeva started laughing.