Vanara

by Anand Neelakantan

  When the news of the death of the holy eagle Jatayu at the hands of Ravana came, the old timers were terrified. It was a harbinger of misfortune for the Vanara race, they claimed. The bird had got caught in the giant fans of Ravana’s flying machine in which he was kidnapping Sita and was chopped into pieces. Baali laughed off such rumours. He had almost killed its twin in his childhood. A bird is a bird and there was nothing holy about it, Baali said to the consternation of the elders.

  And then she heard the news that Rama and Lakshmana had entered the forests of Kishkinda. That filled her with dread. She knew Sugreeva was desperate for a victory over Baali and he may seek the help of the Northern Princes. When she mentioned it to Baali, he laughed the threat off.

  ‘What can two princes do to me, Tara?’

  ‘They say, the elder one is an incarnation of Lord Vishnu.’

  ‘Ha, you started believing the stories that Magadhas sing. They say I’m the son of Indra and my brother the son of Surya. They say you came out of the ocean of milk. Have you heard the story where Hanuman got his cleft lips because he jumped to eat the sun and my father, Indra was scared about the sun being gobbled up and hit him with his Vajrayudha. There is no end to their imagination,’ Baali laughed.

  ‘I’m scared,’ Tara said.

  ‘You think I won’t be a match for some unknown prince, Tara? I defeated Ravana,’ Baali said twirling his moustache. She didn’t have the courage to tell him how scared she felt.

  Chapter 37

  When Hanuman came with the news about the two Princes from the North roaming around in the forest, Sugreeva didn’t bother much. If they went through the forest without any mischief, it was good for them. Else, his crazy brother would deal with them. Sugreeva had lost all hopes. It seemed there was no one who could defeat Baali. Hiding in the hills of Rishyamukha, every day brought more gloom than the previous. The sage in whose Ashram he was living had forbidden the consumption of the arrack of gooseberry wine on his premises. He had to travel surreptitiously to the villages far away, leaving the safety of the Ashram to get his drink. Baali had promised the old saint that there would be no violence on the hill where the Ashram stood; this was the only thing that ensured Sugreeva’s safety. It hurt his ego to be indebted for his life to a promise made by his brother. When he had some money left, Sugreeva had paid some singers to spread the rumour that Baali didn’t step on the hill premises for fear of the sage’s curse. If Baali stepped on the hill, Baali’s head would burst into smithereens, Sugreeva’s paid singers sung through the villages.

  Baali got the tongues of a few singers plucked out, but such acts only added weight to the rumour. That was the only form of victory Sugreeva achieved over his brother. Hanuman had chided Sugreeva for the act. Hanuman was sure Baali would appear one day at Rishimukha hills just to lay rest to the rumours and Sugreeva would be left with no other place to escape to. However, Sugreeva knew his brother better. Balli would never break his promise even at the cost of his reputation. He was safe as long as he never left the hill.

  As the years passed, Sugreeva ran out of things he could sell. He had sold all his ornaments, copper, silver and gold. He had sold the fine silk dhoti which he was proud of and had gone back to wearing deer skin. Without liquor, without the luxuries he was used to, Sugreeva suffered his confinement, pining for Tara. Many a time, he felt he should fall at his brother’s feet and beg for pardon. He tried a few times to meet his brother to work out a truce, but Baali was adamant. Sugreeva had never cared for Ruma, but he complained to anyone who cared to listen that his brother had taken his wife. Hanuman stood with Sugreeva because he thought Baali had done grave injustice to Sugreeva by forcefully taking Ruma. Sugreeva fuelled the anger in Hanuman by crying for Ruma. Sugreeva drew Ruma’s picture on a rock and kept staring at it, imagining it to be Tara. He was desperate and that was the only way to keep Hanuman on his side. There were not many followers he could call his own.

  A few weeks passed before Sugreeva agreed to meet the princes from the North. Hanuman took him to the hut of an old woman called Shabari where the princes were living. Sugreeva was uneasy as he had stepped out of the Rishimukha hills in broad daylight for the first time despite Hanuman’s assurance that not even Baali would dare to harm Sugreeva when the princes were there. Sugreeva was sceptical as he had seen even Ravana defeated by Baali. When they reached the hut, he saw a fair man polishing his arrows. Hanuman whispered, ‘That is the younger prince, Lakshmana. He is totally devoted to his brother.’

  Sugreeva nodded. He too was once devoted to his brother. Then Tara came in between. Sugreeva sighed. Memories of Tara brought on a dull heartache. Lakshmana looked at Hanuman and scowled. Hanuman bowed to him and nudged Sugreeva to do the same.

  ‘Brother is meditating,’ Lakshmana said and resumed polishing his arrows. Hanuman and Sugreeva waited in the sun. Hanuman sat on his haunches and invited Sugreeva to do the same. Sugreeva felt miserable. He had been the chief of Vanaras a few years before. Now he was standing as a supplicant before some unknown princes from faraway lands. He was not impressed with the slight built of Lakshmana. He had firm muscles and perhaps a good aim with his arrows, but what good that would do in a duel? If his elder brother was of Lakshmana’s size, he had wasted a day and demeaned himself for no good.

  ‘Don’t worry, Sugreeva. Rama will help you. He knows the pain of losing one’s wife.’

  Sugreeva didn’t reply.

  ‘Besides, he is staying in an untouchable’s home. He doesn’t consider people as high or low.’ Hanuman’s voice was filled with admiration. ‘How many would do that, especially from Deva land? You will love him, Sugreeva. He is such a noble man. They say the old woman Shabari had given him mangoes after biting them to test for their ripeness and he ate them without any hesitation. Have you heard of Ahalya?’

  The name sent a shiver down Sugreeva’s spine. He wanted to go back. He felt he was doing something sinful. Tara’s smiling face flashed in his mind and Baali’s words came, scathing his soul. His brother had told him, ‘Sugreeva, your sister-in-law is like your mother. Never forget that.’ He had no idea why Baali told him that. Was it a warning? Did his brother know he had coveted his wife? Those casual words had spoilt his fantasy about Tara forever. Whenever he thought about Tara, his adopted mother Ahalya’s face came to his mind. He fought such thoughts. And to make matters worse, he felt that the pull of desire towards Tara didn’t abate. Guilt made his love even more thrilling.

  ‘The poor woman was chained for she had sinned. Chained to a rock for so many years. Rama freed her. He gave redemption to a fallen woman. A person with a divine soul can only do such courageous deeds.’

  Sugreeva shifted on his haunches uneasily. What would Rama want in return? And how was he going to kill . . . nay . . . convince Baali to take him back?

  A tall dark man appeared, and Hanuman stood up with alacrity. Lakshmana also stood up and Sugreeva got up reluctantly. His heart sank upon seeing Rama. Though muscular, he was no match for Baali if it came to a duel. Rama saw Hanuman and his face lit up with a smile. He rushed to Hanuman and hugged him. Sugreeva stood awkwardly, watching them. He saw Hanuman’s eyes fill up with tears. Up close, Rama looked tired. His eyes were puffy, like someone who cried a lot secretly. Maybe he missed his wife who the Asura King Ravana had kidnapped.

  ‘This is Sugreeva,’ Hanuman introduced and Sugreeva gave a nod to Rama. He had wasted his day. This man was no match for his brother. He barely came up to Sugreeva’s shoulders and Baali towered over Sugreeva.

  Rama grasped Sugreeva’s palms and said, ‘I can understand your pain, Sugreeva. I am suffering the same loss. My Sita . . .’

  Sugreeva looked away, embarrassed. Perhaps, the man may not like anyone else seeing his grief. Rama’s eyes had filled up and so had Hanuman’s. Lakshmana had come near them. His face was contorted with suppressed rage.

  ‘I will help you win your wife from your evil brother. I hope you and your people will help me in finding mine,’ Rama said soft
ly.

  Sugreeva nodded, though he was sure Baali would snap this young man into two like a twig if it came to a duel. ‘I will,’ he mumbled. His doubt would have reflected on his face. Rama took the bow and arrow from Lakhsmana and started walking. Without a word, Sugreeva and Hanuman followed. They reached a clearing. From their they could see the seven palmyaras in the holy grove. The river beside was simmering in the sun.

  Sugreeva saw Rama notching an arrow in his bow. The tip of the arrow caught the sun and glittered. The twang of the bowstring startled Sugreeva and with a whoosh, the arrow flew past his ears. The arrow vanished among the palmyra trees. Sugreeva looked at Rama. What was he trying to prove? Then he heard a distant rumbling and turned towards the grove. The first palmyara tree swayed and with a crack that came a tad later after he saw it, its canopy crashed down. In the next blink of eye, one by one, the canopy of the other six trees tumbled down. Involuntarily, Sugreeva sucked in his breath. That was impressive. This man could shoot. But how was it going to help in a hand-to-hand combat? Baali was sure to laugh at such tricks. He would say arrows are for cowards where you shot from a distance. Men fought face-to-face. Would Rama take up that challenge, especially when his body weight was not even equal to half of Baali’s?

  Rama patted him on his back and left without a word. Hanuman looked at him with admiring eyes. Lakshmana said, ‘Don’t worry Vanara. My brother will get you your wife.’

  Sugreeva’s eyes flashed with anger. How dare this prince call him a monkey. Before he could react, Lakshmana had followed Rama.

  Hanuman was about to follow him, when Sugreeva grasped his wrist. He hissed, ‘They don’t respect us.’

  Hanuman looked faraway, ‘Sugreeva. Your brother has sinned. He has forcefully taken your wife.’

  ‘That may be true. But I am Baali’s brother. No one calls us monkeys. We are Vana Naras.’

  ‘Baali called himself a Vanara.’

  ‘No one calls me a monkey and gets away with it.’

  Hanuman put his hand on Sugreeva’s shoulders, ‘Sugreeva, don’t you understand? Only if you are a monkey, can they help.’

  ‘How does–’ Then it hit Sugreeva with a great force.

  ‘They are going to hunt my brother like an animal. Is . . . is it fair?’ Sugreeva asked.

  ‘Do you know any other way to regain your wife? Do you know anyone who could fight Baali and defeat him in a duel?’

  Sugreeva looked down. He had no answer.

  ‘I know it appears wrong, but there is no other way. We can’t allow a strong man to get away with evil actions. He took your wife which is an evil thing to do. Killing him by any means is the right thing to do. It breaks my heart to say so, but there is no other way Sugreeva. You think Rama is happy about it? But there is no other way. Your brother, you, me—all of us are monkeys. Vanaras. A king can hunt animals. That is their dharma.’

  ‘But . . . but–’

  ‘Forget your wife then.’

  Sugreeva didn’t want to say he cared nothing for his wife. He wanted Tara. But if he said that, he would lose Hanuman. His friend might even kill him. There was no choice. He had to do it. He would do anything for Tara. Once the deed was done, he would love her like no other man could. He would shower her with more love than his brute of a brother was ever capable of. He ran to catch up with Rama. He fell at Rama’s feet.

  ‘Swami, only you can help me. Please act on your dharma. Please help me regain my wife.’ Sugreeva hugged Rama’s feet and wept. Rama’s compassionate hands lifted him up. Rama hugged him close to his heart. Sugreeva wept for the monkey brother he had once adored and loved.

  Chapter 38

  Tara’s worst fears were confirmed when Sugreeva came to the palace gate and started hurling abuses at Baali. The Sabha was on at the time. Baali heard the commotion and jumped down from his throne. Swinging his club, he rushed out. Tara ran behind him to stop him. She threw her hands across the door blocking his way and cried, ‘Something is wrong. If the enemy who has been dormant for years has suddenly become bold, it means he has got help from someone powerful. Ignore him, please don’t go out.’

  ‘You want me to hide under my cot like a scared kitten? He has challenged me and as per our custom, the king who doesn’t accept the challenge has to abdicate. Move away, Tara. Let me teach him a lesson.’

  ‘Please, don’t go.’

  Baali pushed her out of his way and rushed out, screaming at Sugreeva. Tara watched him approaching Sugreeva and when he reached near, Sugreeva took off. Baali chased him, swinging his club. Something was wrong. She ran out, pleading Baali to come back. She saw Baali and Sugreeva circling, with their clubs in their hands, facing each other like fighting cocks. Why did Sugreeva choose this place? If he wanted to fight, he should have done it at the courtyard of the palace where everyone would have seen him either beating Baali or getting beaten by him. That would have lent him weight in his claim of kingship had he defeated Baali. Why did he run like a hare and then choose to fight away from the eyes of everyone? Chemba was growling at the tree. What was the wolf seeing that her eyes couldn’t see? Tara looked carefully, and her heart stopped beating. She gasped. Someone was hiding behind a tree.

  An arrow peeped out, pointing at the fighting warriors. She screamed to alert the warriors. Sugreeva looked at her and at that moment, Baali hit him across his chest. Sugreeva fell down and Baali was on him like a typhoon on a rickety ship in the sea. Baali beat him mercilessly until Sugreeva somehow found his chance to flee. He vanished behind the bushes and Baali laughed uproariously.

  ‘Fool, whenever you want to get beaten up, please drop by,’ he roared. Tara walked to the tree. She had to find out who was hiding there. But when she reached there, no one was around. Baali came near her and grabbed her by her waist. He was covered in sweat. He lifted her up and swirled her. He was enjoying his victory. When he placed her down, and when her head stopped spinning, she said, ‘Someone was waiting here. He was trying to shoot you.’

  Baali looked around and remarked, ‘Who will do such a cowardly thing, Tara? No one was here.’

  Tara was sure she had seen someone. She observed Chemba was nervous and was sniffing around. But Baali’s footsteps had erased any proofs. She pointed to the wolf and said he could smell someone. Baali laughed it off and whistled the wolf to him. It came reluctantly, looking back over its shoulders. Tara was filled with dread. They walked in silence, back to their cave palace.

  ‘Look,’ Tara gripped Baali’s wrist and pointed to the palmyra grove. She was shocked beyond belief. The seven palmyras appeared headless, as if someone had chopped them off with a powerful arrow. They ran to the grove. Tara found footprints all around. There were arrow marks on the palmyra. Someone was using it for target practice. The image of the arrow that peeped out flashed across her mind. Jasmine creepers had started wilting. The grove lay in disarray. The grove which hid a thousand secret memories now emanated a sense of brooding, a premonition of something sinister. Tara felt that the air was thick with conspiracy. Something evil had been conceived here. Her nails dug into Baali’s wrist.

  ‘I saw death lurking at you. Be careful, please, be careful.’ She cried. Her face had gone white as a sheet.

  Baali frowned. He could not deny the evidence that was staring him in his face. He walked to the palace, lost in his thoughts. She walked quietly behind him. She was feeling feverish. By evening, Baali had regained his cheerfulness. He played with Angada and father and son wrestled in the courtyard as the sun set over River Pampa.

  The night was deliciously cold. Tara was lying in the arms of her beloved. She was unable to sleep. To keep her mind away from the scary thoughts, she tried to think about the days when she was happy and free. She tried to recollect the magic of first love. She moved closer to Baali and put her arms across his chest. Through the cracks in the cave roof, moonlight dripped inside, painting faint circles on the damp floor. She could hear the wind ruffling the leaves outside. Sometimes, the breeze carried the fragrance of
Champaka flowers. She could hear the babble of the brook if she cared to listen.

  Tara lay her head on Baali’s chest. It always filled her heart with joy to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. For a shy moment, she thought it whispered her name. She raised her head and looked at his face. He was fast asleep. Only someone who had no deceit in his mind could sleep so soundly. Everything about Baali was straight, except for his impossibly curly hair and beard. She ran her fingers through his hair. He murmured something in his sleep. She kept her ears close to his lips. It was her name. She smiled. Her fears slowly started melting away. She put her head back on his chest and closed her eyes in contentment. Everything was going to be alright.

  Some fireflies had entered the cave, painting everything inside with a faint green light. A firefly danced around Baali’s face. She could see the bruises on his strong shoulders. Blood had clotted like leeches where Sugreeva’s club had hit him. For a fleeting moment, Tara thought about Sugreeva. Then she pulled her mind back to the dimly-lit cave. In every nook and corner, monkey men and women were perched. Most of them were fast asleep. Others, who were awake, talked in soft whispers so that the sleep of their king wasn’t disturbed. They were her husband’s loyal subjects. For them, he was God. For fourteen years, he had ruled them well and made the city prosperous. He was a just ruler.