Vanara

by Anand Neelakantan

Encouraged by the response, Rishabha continued, ‘See this Vaidya’s daughter. See how she dresses. To seduce, to tempt all young blood and these fools . . .’

  There was a loud crack and Rishabha staggered down, holding his ear.

  ‘Next time you talk like that to any woman, I will make you like me—a eunuch,’ Riksarajas kicked Rishabha in his face.

  ‘You hit me? How dare you? I am excommunicating you, I am expelling this girl,’ Rishabha cried.

  Riksarajas had his mace in his hand and he swung it menacingly, ‘Another word, and I will expel you from this world,’ He brought down the mace with great force and smashed it near Rishabha’s head. The chief screamed in fear and stumbled backwards. Riksarajas cursed him loudly. He asked Rishabha to stay still so that his next hit with the mace would not miss his head. Kesari and Jambavan rushed to pick up their friend.

  ‘I will show who we are eunuch, will show you,’ Rishabha threatened as Kesari picked him up. Tara held Riskarajas’s wrist.

  ‘This city is built on sin. Let this city perish. You all will pay a big price, monkeys. You were blinded by this shameless girl’s youthful charms. Fools,’ Rishabha cursed as he was being dragged away by his two friends. A few people, mostly old men, followed the chiefs out of the city gate. Tara stood numb, shaken by the events. She had not expected a victory, nor had she anticipated so much hostility. The way Rishabha shamed her for being a woman riled her. Except for the eunuch, no man came for her rescue. They were enjoying her discomfort, grinning from ear to ear when Rishabha was talking about how she dressed or how she talked. Tara felt sick and angry. She couldn’t control her tears. She felt everyone was staring at her dress; every man was stripping her in their mind.

  ‘Don’t worry, daughter. Weak men fear intelligent women like you. They will try to break your spirit by shaming you about your dress. They will find lust in everything. But no one will dare to talk to you as long as I am alive.’ Riksarajas smiled at her.

  Tara struggled to control her tears, ‘I want to save Kishkinda for my Baali.’

  When Riksarajas smiled, she bit her tongue. She had uttered ‘my Baali’ unwittingly. She turned her face away.

  ‘You did it admirably. Now build his city for him. Only you can do that. When my son comes back, gift him his Kishkinda, Tara.’

  ‘I . . . I am but a girl. How can I manage so many men?’

  ‘You speak your mind, Tara and give instructions to your people.’

  ‘They won’t take orders from a girl,’ she smiled sadly.

  ‘I will hurt anyone who dares to disobey you, girl.’

  Tara laughed through her tears. She knew Riksarajas would do that and more if she asked. The eunuch was the only man in Kishkinda now. Yet, she knew hurting those who resented a girl ordering them around was no way to build a city. She had to be practical. She was not doing it for herself. She was doing it for her Baali. She clapped her hands and summoned everyone. They formed a circle around her.

  ‘I sincerely thank you for your support. We are building a city for every Vana Nara. This is the dream of Baali. The doors of Kishkinda will be open for all, irrespective of their race, tribe, caste, language or gender, but on one condition. We will treat everyone as equal. There will be no priests, no noble men, no one superior or inferior. This is the city of equals, this is the city of Baali.’ A huge cheer went up from the men. ‘Spread the word far and wide. Let our brethren who live in the deep forests reach here if they want. They will be paid for their work and given a place to live. There will be an eternal fire . . .’

  A sudden hush fell on the crowd. Tara watched the shock and awe among her people. She continued, ‘Yes, you heard it right. Our leader Baali has discovered the secret of fire. There is nothing holy about the fire. They had kept it a secret from us, saying it is holy, divine, not to be sullied by the dirty hands of Dasas like us. They had conspired to keep us ignorant. The fire is like water and air. It belongs to all. It belongs to Vana Naras, too. The city will have eternal fire and each member will be entitled to a share of the flame. There will be no darkness in night. We shall start cooking food and not eat raw food like animals.’

  There were excited whispers.

  ‘Isn’t it a sin?’ a voice piped up from the rear.

  ‘Ignorance is sin. Slavery is sin. Knowledge is not. Fire is knowledge. Spread word that it is the will of Baali to have all the brethren of Vana Nara and other enslaved tribes to live together and live freely in Kishkinda. We shall start farming soon and not just survive on fruits and game. We will have granaries so that during the rains we do not die of starvation. This is my Baali’s will.’

  Tara cursed herself. Her people were grinning. She had said ‘my Baali’ again.

  ‘Girl,’ a middle-aged man addressed her, ‘But who will lead us? The chiefs have gone.’

  Riksarajas smacked his mace on his palm, ‘Address her by her name, you fool.’

  Tara stopped Riksrajas, ‘It is alright, father. You are right. We need a new chief.’

  Tara waited for that to sink in. She could see the confusion among people. She saw Nala coming forward. She had to act now.

  ‘And Baali had told me the name of our chief,’ Tara saw Nala smiling. She continued, ‘And the new chief is . . .’ Tara raised Riksarajas’s hand in the air. There was a shocked silence. Riksarajas was the one who was most shocked.

  ‘This eunuch?’ Nala scoffed.

  ‘That is Baali’s choice. If anyone has any problem they can talk to Baali when he comes back,’ Tara said, smiling at Nala.

  Nala laughed. ‘Speak with Baali? Eh? When he comes back. Ha ha! Are you sure he will come back?’

  Riksarjas sprang at Nala, but Tara restrained him. ‘I am as sure as the sun will rise in the east.’ She said eyeing him straight. Nala dropped his gaze and withdrew. Tara sighed in relief.

  ‘Tomorrow, we will resume the work on our city. That is our gift to our chief Baali. We obey Riksarajas without any questions. Any doubts, difference of opinion or suggestions can be discussed after sunset. There is only one leader for us and that is our chief. We will put the eternal fire at the centre first and let the free city of Kishkinda rise as a beacon for all the poor, oppressed, slaves of the world.’

  The Vana Naras cheered. Some called out her name, but she stopped them. ‘Riksarajas is our chief. Hail him. Hail Baali,’ Tara said. After a moment’s hesitation, she added, ‘Hail Sugreeva, for Baali will bring him back.’ The crowd cheered. Tara turned to Nala, ‘Nala, I want you to build the fountain that Sugreeva always wanted. Let it be near the eternal fire. Like the brothers, let fire and water be close. Let them be eternal. Can you do it?’

  Nala stared at her. Tara smiled at him without any malice, ‘Nala, let the world know Vana Naras can build a city that can rival Trikota of Ravana, Mahishmathi of Hehayas or Amaravati of Devas. Let the world know Nala as the greatest builder. It is for Vana Nara pride. We have to prove those who kept us as slaves that, given half a chance, we can compete with any Deva or Asura and perhaps better them too.’

  Tara knew by the look on his face that Nala had not expected he would be trusted after his altercation with her. He was silent for some time. Tara waited for him to reply. Finally he said, ‘I shall build the greatest of cities. I shall build forts that cannot be impregnated, a grand temple for Ayyan, decorate the cave with sculptors, paint gorgeous scenes over the walls. I shall create magic.’

  Tara nodded. The crowd cheered. Nala turned to them and commanded, ‘All for Kishkinda’. The Vana Naras marched to the city of future with Nala leading them. Tara was alone again. She had taken many decisions without consulting anyone. It was exhilarating. It was frightening too. Would Baali love what she did or would he feel she had usurped his power? She tried to push away such apprehensions. She would gift Baali a great city. She heard someone crying. She turned and saw Riksarajas was sobbing. She rushed to him.

  ‘Girl, you made me cry. You have been too kind to me. I have been scorned as neither man nor woman since
childhood. I was always an it, a thing to be scorned and you made me the chief.’

  Tara took his palms, ‘There is no one who deserves to be chief other than you. People who scorned you would now bow before you.’

  ‘I . . . I am a drunkard. I am no good.’ Riksarajas said.

  ‘You are soberer than many who are drunk on tradition and prejudice. Besides, you are Baali’s father. He had asked me to make you the chief,’ Tara smiled.

  ‘Oh, did he?’ Riksarajas’s eyes glinted. ‘That is my boy. That is my Baali.’

  Baali had said no such thing, but she was sure he would approve of what she did. Tara laughed, ‘Yes, he admires you the most. He is your son.’ She put his palm on her head, ‘Now bless your future daughter-in-law,’ she said blushing.

  ‘I knew it, I knew it,’ the eunuch cried and laughed. He lifted her chin and she looked abashed, ‘Bless you, daughter. He is a lucky man.’

  The sun had risen over the eastern mountains. The grove was alive with birds welcoming the dawn. From afar, they could hear the Vana Naras striving to build their dream city. The breeze was fragrant, and the river sparkled like gold. The seven palmyra trees swayed their heads in rhythm as the wind whooshed past the groove. The new chief of Vana Naras and the girl who made him the chief watched a peacock coming out of a bush and spread its plume. The silence was sweet, and their thoughts were sweeter. Both of them were thinking about the same man.

  Chapter 19

  Sugreeva hated the man from the day he had set eyes on him. They had brought him to the dungeons in chains. He was sick of thinking about ways to escape his captivity and he had a new companion in the smelly dungeon. For a few weeks, the man kept to himself, morose, always in deep thought. He had a haughty air about him which put off Sugreeva completely. All his attempts to strike up a conversation ended in grunts or being ignored. He walked and acted as if he was born a king. It took many weeks for him to be open and when he revealed who he was, it took Sugreeva’s breath away. The dungeon may be infested with rats, the air might be foul, the floor might be damp and stinking with rats the size of cats scurrying around, but Sugreeva felt proud that he was sharing the dungeon with the emperor of Asuras—Ravana.

  Ravana complained about how he was cheated by a flood that swept away half his army. He worried about his toddler daughter who was in the camp and what happened to her. Sugreeva wondered which idiot carries his toddler to a war field, but daren’t say anything to Ravana. Later, Ravana told him that he had carried the Asura princess with him wherever he went because astrologers had pronounced that she would be the reason for the destruction of the Asura empire. There were many among his own people who wanted the little girl dead. Ravana often expressed hope that his servant Bhadra would protect his little daughter from his superstitious ministers. It amused Sugreeva that the so-called civilized Asuras were equally superstitious like Vana Naras. It was also touching and naïve for the king to depend on some lowly servant. Ravana talked about his wife Mandodari and later, about his love Vedavathi. He worried about his people a lot.

  When Ravana had asked who he was, Sugreeva had given a fake name. Not that Ravana would have recognised his name or the name of an insignificant monkey man would have mattered to the once mighty emperor of Asuras. Sugreeva was cautious by nature and thought it would be foolish to be frank with strangers, or with friends for that matter. Sugreeva was impressed by Ravana’s vast knowledge. He was also aware of how, despite all the talks about Asura pride, Ravana still kept him at an arm’s distance. In the dim light that filtered through the sky holes in the roof, Sugreeva had seen that Ravana still wore the sacred thread across his body. Sugreeva had heard Ravana’s father was a Brahmin and the emperor took pride in his lineage. Even in the shared misery, the gap between the Dasa Sugreeva and Brahmin Ravana was too wide to bridge. He may talk for hours but took care that he didn’t accidentally touch Sugreeva.

  Sugreeva bid his time like an animal, making and remaking plans of his escape. Dull, monotonous time went by in the dungeon where it was always dark. Time had no meaning. Sugreeva was worried about Baali and Tara. He had planned a grand arrival at Kishkinda with money which Baali could have never acquired. With payment in real money, there would be no dearth of workers. Money held no value in Vana Nara society except for buying the freedom of loved ones. The Devas and Asuras freed slaves if they got a good price. The slavers may catch them again, but every Vana Nara had a slim chance of being free for a brief period. Some lucky ones could hide in the forest forever, from the prying eyes of slave merchants. With his money, Baali would have been forced to accept his ideas. He could have built Kishkinda the way he wanted, with magnificent palaces and beautiful streets. He could have asked for Tara’s hand in marriage. Everything was lost in a moment of carelessness. He should have seen it coming.

  What surprised Sugreeva was Arjuna not using him as a slave. Why had he put him in a dungeon with the king of Asuras? It dawned on him one day and he laughed aloud. Karthya Veerarjuna wanted to insult Ravana by making him share a dingy room with an untouchable, low-caste monkey man. The wily robber king Arjuna might be negotiating a king’s ransom to free the Asura king from his predicament. Sugreeva was afraid what would happen to him once Ravana was set free.

  One day, the guards took away Ravana and Sugreeva spent a tense afternoon wondering about what happened to his dungeon mate. By evening, the guards came for Sugreeva. He was scared and didn’t want to go. He clung to the bars and they had to drag him. He was sure they were going to hang him or worse, make him a slave of some Heheya official. When the guards dragged him past the palace, he was sure they were going to execute him. Sugreeva started screaming and thrashing his legs around. The guard chief punched his face and ordered him to keep quiet. They reached the fort gate and Sugreeva watched helplessly as a small opening in the massive gate creaked open. Sugreeva struggled to free himself.

  ‘Monkey, you want to go back to the dungeon again? Fool, we are freeing you. The Asura king paid for your release too.’

  Sugreeva couldn’t believe what he had heard. Why should Ravana pay his ransom? Before he could think any further, they had flung him out of the fort and the gate crashed shut behind him. He stood confused in the darkness. The massive fort of Mahishmathi towered behind him. The few torches that were burning from the fort wall accentuated the darkness around. The drone of crickets and the deep forest that lay a few hundred feet away from the fort gate gave an eerie feeling. The earth had a muddy smell, as if a sudden summer shower had cooled the soil. Sugreeva didn’t want to stay there for long. What if Arjuna’s men changed their mind? He looked up, trying to recall the lessons on finding direction using sky as a map. The star positions confused him. He had no idea which month of year it was or how many years had passed since he was jailed.

  He decided to follow the course of Narmada. That would take him to the west, towards the sea. If he could cross the river somewhere, he could proceed south and reach Kishkinda. He walked all through the night, putting maximum distance between him and the accursed Mahishmathi. By dawn, he had reached an unknown town. There was a small temple near the river. People had already woken up and were on their way to their farms. They were of mixed race, with both Deva and Asura features, nothing unusual in the countries around river Narmada. They looked at him suspiciously. No one stopped him from going near the temple. It was a village of low-castes and the caste laws were not strictly implemented, he assumed. The temple was dedicated to the buffalo Goddess, Mahishi, and there were traces of blood around the sacrificial stone. He waited for the priest to come out, half-expecting to be chased away.

  The priest saw him and went inside. He came back with a banana leaf full of rice and freshly cooked lamb and placed it before him. This was a tantric temple which followed no caste rules, thought Sugreeva gratefully. He identified himself as an Asura noble man and the Asura language he had learned under Mahabali came to good use. The priest was friendly and talked about Ravana’s capture by Mahishmathi king Arjuna.
Sugreeva feigned surprise and the priest became talkative. He talked about the rumour of Ravana’s daughter having gone missing. Sugreeva felt sad for his former jail mate. Perhaps as Ravana feared, the superstitious ministers might have killed the toddler. The priest whispered in hushed tones that the girl was not dead but abandoned by Bhadra, one of the servants of Ravana as per ministers’ instruction, and the girl was adopted by a Deva king called Janaka. Sugreeva smiled at the irony of an Asura princess growing up in a Deva land. Who knows, perhaps the prediction may come true and the girl may return to Lanka as its nemesis.

  Then the priest talked about an alarming news. The Brahmin army under the leadership of mad warrior Parashurama was moving towards Mahishmathi. Parashurama had vowed to kill all Kings who didn’t respect Brahmins. He had killed sixty-three kings so far and his army of axe-wielding warriors were feared by all Kings irrespective of whether they were Devas or Asuras. The priest advised him to stay clear of them. Sugreeva lost his appetite. He said a hurried good bye and rushed out of the town. He had to take care to stay in the forests. He was determined to reach Kishkinda. He hoped his gang would have safely reached the city with the loot. He worried about how monstrous the city would look by the time he reached Kishkinda. As he travelled, he started hearing the rumour of a monkey man enquiring about him and travelling towards Mahishmathi in search of him. The more he heard about this mysterious man, the more he was convinced it was his brother Baali. He was moved to tears when he thought Baali had come in search of him. As days passed and he continued to travel south, he heard of the large-scale butchering that had happened in Mahishmathi. Parasurama’s army had broken into Mahishmathi and annihilated Karthya Veerarjuna and his five hundred elite warriors. The news sent shivers down the spine of all Kings. No king would dare to defy a Brahmin now. Sugreeva knew the lives of Dasas were going to be more miserable now onwards. When the news got confirmed, Sugreeva decided he had to go back and find his brother. He was worried his brother would fall into the hands of Parasurama’s men or the Mahishmathi soldiers. Sugreeva started walking back to Mahishmathi.