Vanara

by Anand Neelakantan

  As the brothers fought in a friendly way, cursing and mocking each other, Tara sat pondering over Sugreeva’s words. Something about it made her uneasy. He hadn’t bothered her after his marriage and Ruma never spoke to her after her initial outburst. When Baali gave his customary roar after defeating Sugreeva as usual, she looked at her brother-in-law who was squirming under her husband’s feet. Was he the tiger crouching before pouncing on the prey?

  Days passed, and dull monotony peppered with mild excitements, but the feeling of something ominous never left Tara. She learned to ignore Ruma’s coldness and got busy with her work of spreading the light of reading to more women. Some of the women had managed to teach their children and men to read and write. Nala was a great help to her during these days. He admired her and was ready to do anything she asked of him. With no female friends after the departure of Prabha, she found happiness in the friendship she cherished with two men—Hanuman and Nala. Together, they were spreading the light of knowledge in the Vanara society.

  Tara wished she could do the same at her home. Her attempts to teach Baali ended up in arguments and fights. Though he would use harsh words, he never used force to win an argument. Later, he would make up for his harshness by making passionate love to her. She was able to win small victories. She managed to get the eternal fire going and when she started cooking, he sulked for a few days but when he found she was determined to have her way, he acquiesced. Though he never admitted it in so many words, she knew he relished her cooking. Slowly, hearths returned to the humble abode of other Vanara homes. Nala helped building hearths in many homes.

  For all such minor victories that gave her pleasure, one thought marred her contentment. She yearned for a child and often dreamt about it. Every month, she would be disappointed, but Baali never broached the subject. Tongues started wagging about her barreness and she was scared whether Baali would marry another woman. On one occasion, when Baali saw her crying, he understood her fear without her putting it into words. He said he was her child and she his, and she cried more. He was baffled and tried to cajole her. He didn’t know she was crying because she was so touched by his love. He was not good at reading such cues. He lay his head down on her lap and started cooing like a child. It was silly and ridiculous and had someone seen the great chief of Vanaras, it would have become a scandal. She loved him for such silliness, his ability to preserve the boyhood in him, this man who was built like a mountain and was feared and respected by many, the great Vanara King Baali. Tara thought the great God Ayyan was kind to her. Her life had found a rhythm. A child would have made her life perfect, she thought.

  Ayyan, however, had other plans.

  * * *

  She was in Kadalivana, struggling with a poem written in Deva language, while Hanuman and Nala were pruning the leaves of the plantain when a messenger came. He had rushed from Kishkinda with some news. The Asura army led by the mighty Ravana was marching towards Kishkinda and Sugreeva had called for all able men to defend the city from Asura attack. Tara and her friends rushed to the city. They saw many hurrying to the safety of the fort. They met Baali standing at the gate, his body erect, his eyes looking far away and his mace on his shoulders. Beside him, stood Sugreeva, who appeared shaken and worried. A few feet ahead of them, Chemba sat, patiently waiting to pounce on any foe of his master. Tara rushed to her husband, but he gestured her to go inside the fort. Hanuman went to him and said, ‘Baali, I shall organize and prepare our people for battle. I don’t know how long we can stand against their army, but every Vanara will stand by you. We have to strengthen our defence . . .’

  Baali looked straight. ‘There will be no defence. I need no Vanara to fight the Asura.’

  ‘Are you planning to surrender? It is . . .’

  Baali stared at Hanuman. ‘Surrender? I will fight Ravana and defeat him.’

  ‘We need to raise an army . . .’

  ‘I plan to defeat him alone. Either he kills me, or I kill him. There is no need for any war.’

  ‘You are crazy, please come inside . . .’ Tara held her husband’s arms. He shook her away and gestured her to go inside the fort. Hanuman took Tara’s hands and dragged her in. Sugreeva looked at her, helplessly. The fort gate closed behind her. She rushed to the rampart to see him standing. There were many people along the fort walls, but they made way for her. She could see dust rising from the horizon. Chemba was running around in circles, sniffing the air, barking, howling, darting to the river and back. The wolf was excited.

  Tara felt dizzy. Despite the dry wind that blew from the east, she started sweating and felt parched. The army was growing, with thousands of men on horses, elephants and foot. Their armour gleamed in the summer sun and the lances bobbed up and down as they advanced towards Kishkinda. The dry riverbed was not going to be any barrier for the army. She could sense every Vanara was scared. She saw the pitiful face of Sugreeva, who was staring at his brother and then at the advancing army. The horses splashed through puddles of water. The sound of hoofs, the neighing of horses and the trumpet calls of war elephants rent the air. As they sighted the city, the Asura army captain on a black stallion cried, ‘Har Har Shankara,’ and judging from the defining response that rose in waves, Tara could imagine how big the invasion was. Someone called ‘Ayya’ and the Vanara men started chanting the great God’s name. Tara was not sure who the God would prefer, for she knew both the armies were calling out to the same God.

  ‘Surrender,’ the captain of Asuras cried out as the first wave of horses set foot on Kishkinda soil. In response, Baali swirled his mace in the air and roared. His roar filled the air and silence descended except for his wild cry. Fear filled Tara and she thought she would faint. Hanuman’s hands held her. She couldn’t see clearly through her hazy eyes.

  ‘Surrender,’ the captain cried again. The wolf darted towards him. Baali whistled, and it darted back. It stood by Baali’s side, baring its teeth and snarling.

  ‘Ask your king to fight me like a man. Face-to-face,’ Baali roared. The crowd gasped. The Asura army roared in anger. They clanged their maces to their iron shields. Chemba let out a blood-chilling growl, followed by a bark. The captain moved forward.

  ‘Monkey, how dare you talk–’

  His sound was buried in a thunderous clap from the sky. Trees swayed in torrential wind and dry leaves whirled up from the ground showering them with river sand. The Vana Naras watched in awe as a flying machine appeared in the horizon. It grew larger, with its massive sails fluttering in the wind. It hovered over Kishkinda for a moment, before descending on the riverbank before Baali. As the gigantic wooden fans slowed down, the sails shrunk, and a strikingly handsome man stepped out. He wore a diamond crusted crown and his broad chest was filled with pearl necklaces. The Asura army fell on their knees and bowed before him.

  ‘Ravana, the emperor of Asuras, the king of Lanka’. Tara heard people whisper around her. Baali stood like a statue, unperturbed by the spectacular arrival of the great Asura king. Sugreeva took a step back and stood behind Baali. Chemba let out a low growl but as Ravana walked towards them, Tara saw the red wolf cower in fear and move behind Baali. It snarled and yelped from behind Baali’s legs. Ravana’s hand was on the hilt of his pearl crusted sword. He pulled it out in a fluid movement as he walked, and the glint of steal was blinding. Tara heard someone whisper the name Chandrahasa. She had heard the bards sing about the divine sword that Ravana possessed, a gift from the great God Shankara when Ravana had tried to lift the mount Kailasa. The bards’ tales were often exaggerated, but the sword looked impressive even from a distance.

  Ravana stood before Baali, assessing the Vana Nara with scorn. Here was the emperor who had crushed the Devas. Ravana’s rise after his defeat at the hands of Karthyaveera Arjuna was phenomenal. He had conquered the entire Jambudweepa, destroying great cities of the Devas like Ayodhya and killing its king Anaranya. His son had brought Indra in chains to Lanka. The Asuras had achieved great technological advancement.

 
‘I have come to know that one of your men has stolen the prized bull of my vassal King, Mayavi. If you don’t want your city to be annihilated, your women to be enslaved and your men to be butchered, surrender–’

  ‘Dare you fight me like a man?’ Baali asked softly, looking at Ravana’s eyes.

  ‘I haven’t come here for a fair. I have come to conquer,’ Ravana scoffed.

  ‘Fight me like a man,’ Baali repeated.

  ‘I have flying machines, I have steel, I have horses and elephants and thousands of men and–’

  ‘You are a coward.’

  A hush fell amongst the crowd. After a moment’s silence, the Asura army roared and surged forward. Ravana stopped them with a snap of his fingers.

  ‘Why should I wrestle with a monkey?’ Ravana asked.

  ‘Defeat me and Kishkinda is yours without shedding a drop of blood,’ Baali said, shifting his mace from one hand to another. ‘I am their chief. You vanquish me, and they are your slaves. You can use your arrows, elephants and horses for conquering some other kingdom. I have none of those. I have these hands and a mace. Dare to fight like a man? Let’s match limb to limb, strength to strength and see whether the world-conquering Asura is a match for a forest dweller?’

  Ravana stared at Baali. Tara felt she would faint. The Asura emperor was as well built as her husband. And Asuras were notorious for their skill in magic and the black arts. Ravana was reputed to be a great scholar, who knew various tricks and techniques in fighting. What chance did her illiterate and naïve husband have against the emperor of Asuras? Tara knew what Baali was trying to do. He was sacrificing himself to save his people from being butchered. The dream of the Vana Naras was ending. Baali wanted to go valiantly, fighting till his last breath before his people became slaves again. Just when her life was blossoming, fate had delivered a brutal blow.

  ‘I accept your challenge, monkey man,’ Ravana said with a smile that sent shivers down Tara’s spine.

  Chapter 29

  The duel was fixed for three days later and the Asura army was invited to Kishkinda. The city was overwhelmed by the Asura army. Every home had many Asuras as guests. Elephants and horses were tied by the streets or by the fort wall. Asuras and their elephants and horses frolicked in the fountain water. Streets were filled with horse shit and elephant dung. The monkey men and women strived hard to make the Asuras comfortable. The jungle people expended the food they had stored as monsoon reserve on their enemies. It didn’t matter that the Asuras had come as invaders, ready to rape, pillage and loot. They were now guests and Vanaras would feed them even if they themselves starved. This was the code of honour, as old and unchanging as the hills.

  The Asuras were surprised at the size of the city and the sophistication the seemingly uncivilized monkey men had achieved. The Asura emperor offered Nala a fortune for building a city in his Lanka, which Nala politely declined. Tara watched the camaraderie between Ravana and Baali with unease. She knew once Ravana defeated Baali, the friendship would vanish. It would be once again the bitter relationship between the victor and the vanquished. When Ravana said that he had seen Sugreeva somewhere, Baali laughed it off. Sugreeva denied having the fortune of meeting the Asura emperor before. Tara was watching Sugreeva when he said it. She was sure he was lying.

  Many casks of toddy and gooseberry wines were consumed in the revelry that followed. Baali talked about Riksarajas and with pain, Tara realised that after the initial grief, the Vanaras barely talked about the eunuch. After his death, she had made Nala carve an umbrella stone, the customary memoir for Vana Naras over his grave by the river. For a few weeks she lit lamps, but her visits became infrequent as she got busy with her life. It stopped altogether in a few months and Riksarajas had gone into oblivion. She decided she would resume the practice of lighting a mud lamp by his grave. The conversation had moved from Riksarajas’s antics to other matters.

  The council elders stood sulking at the palace cave entrance. They could never approve the show of friendship between Asuras and Vanaras. Rishabha was vocal in his protest. To anyone who was willing to listen, he would complain that Baali was gambling with the future of Vana Naras. What right did Baali have to say that if he failed, the Vana Naras would be the slaves of Asuras? Tara was sure there were detractors among Asuras too.

  The biggest victim of the Asura invasion was Chemba. The wolf was excited and angry at the intrusion and had to be chained to a corner of the palace. Chemba kept on barking and howling and became calm only when Baali found some time to pat him or sit with him. As the day neared, fear grew in Tara’s mind and the wolf’s continuous howling filled her with anxiety. She wished she could speak to Hanuman, but after Baali’s decision to fight a duel instead of a battle, Hanuman had retreated to his ashram.

  Baali was busy in his hospitality of the Asura emperor. Their talks bored Tara. Moreover, a man in the Asura group made her uncomfortable. The man’s eyes never left her. He stood behind Ravana, but his roving eyes made her feel naked. She came to know that the man was Ravana’s brother, Vibhishana. There was something evil about the man. To her dismay, Baali was friendly with him too. She saw him serving some foul looking liquor to Baali and her husband drinking it with relish. The man boasted that he brewed the best arrack in Lanka. He talked too much. Sugreeva appeared to have understood the man better than her husband. She could see the look of dislike in Sugreeva’s face whenever the garrulous man talked. She avoided being with her husband and it irritated her that he appeared not to miss her. There was no need to show so much hospitality to an enemy who had come to invade his kingdom. But she didn’t dare advise Baali and earn his displeasure. She fumed and fretted instead, taking out her irritation on the poor maids attending to her. Even Nala fell victim to her foul mood and kept his distance from her.

  On the eve of the duel, she saw something that shook her. Tara had planned to visit Riksarajas’s grave. As much as Ayyan, the ancestors too protected their wards. Baali had always considered Riksarajas as his father. Baali needed all possible prayers and help. Nala and Tara reached Riksarajas’s grave. Nala had brought the materials for ancestor worship—freshly caught fish, a pot of toddy, some hibiscus flowers in a banana leaf and a lamp. As Nala was sweeping the dead leaves that had covered the grave, Tara thought she heard a giggle. Nala looked around in fear. Such places were often haunted. Tara looked around. The light was fading and the birds that had come to roost in the grove had become silent. The breeze carried a man’s laughter from a bush nearby.

  Tara started walking towards the bush, but her friend stopped her. ‘It could be some Pisacha,’ Nala said in a hushed voice. Tara pushed him out of her way and walked to the bush. She saw a couple entwined in each other’s arms. The woman’s bareback glistened with sweat. Tara gasped for she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The woman turned to look at her and with a cry, ran away, gathering her clothes and vanishing into the darkness. The man stared at her, not bothering to cover his nakedness. Nala came near Tara and the man tied his dhoti and started walking.

  ‘Hey, Asura,’ Nala called. The man continued walking. Nala ran behind the man and caught his shoulders. The Asura turned swiftly and knocked Nala down with a powerful punch. Nala fell hard on a bush. Tara recovered and ran to help her friend. Nala wanted to chase the man, but Tara restrained him. They finished the Puja in haste and walked back. Nala didn’t stop cursing the man who had punched him. He wanted to murder all Asuras. He was sick of the duel that Baali had agreed to. He wanted war. How dare an Asura touch a Vana Nara girl? Tara had kept quiet all this while. When they reached the fort, Nala stopped in his tracks.

  ‘Tara,’ Nala said in a fearful voice. ‘That girl... that girl . . . I think it was Ruma . . . Sugreeva’s wife.’

  Tara walked inside the fort without replying. She had seen the face of the woman clearly. As she entered the city, she saw the merriment going on in full vigour. She saw Baali sitting alongside Ravana. They were watching Sugreeva dance with a pot of toddy in his hand. Baali inv
ited her to sit by his side. Sugreeva paused when he saw her. She turned her face away. She felt sorry for him. She sat through the performance, fearing the passing of time. Chemba was lying near Baali and her husband kept running his fingers through the red fur of the wolf.

  Tara whispered in Baali’s ears, ‘Don’t be overfriendly with the Asura. He is assessing your strength. You have foolishly let their army inside the fort. What if he plans an ambush?’

  Baali was silent for a moment, as if contemplating her words. ‘Had he wanted to kill me, he could have asked his army to finish me off. I stood no chance against an arrow shot by anyone from the rear of their army. There was no need for him to come before me and accept my challenge. I trust him.’

  Tara had no answer for that. She hoped he would be right. She wondered whether she should tell him about Ruma, but decided against it. She had to talk to her first. Tara excused herself and went to the cave palace. It was dark as most of the lamps had gone off. The sounds of revelry at the eternal fire in the city’s centre could be heard faintly. She stood at the entrance and looked back at the sprawling city below. There were fires burning here and there. Huddled before them would be soldiers from Asura and Vana Nara people. Everything may change tomorrow. Vanaras were fighting to protect their independence. What were the Asuras fighting for? For more glory to their emperor? Tara sighed and entered the palace.

  She found Ruma in her chamber. She was sleeping or perhaps pretending to sleep. Tara sat on the stone cot and gently woke her up. She refused to open her eyes and Tara was sure she was not asleep but pretending to be so. She sprinkled some water on Ruma’s face and her sister-in-law sprang up, irritated.