Mandodari

by Manini J Anandani

  ‘Decorum, Meenakshi! That is not the way to speak to your king!’ I interrupted.

  ‘No, today I can! Because he is the reason I don’t have a husband now! He widowed his own sister and took a father away from his son. He wants to be the favourite son of our mother, controlling all our lives and putting us beneath him. I chose my own husband and this threatened him for years. He couldn’t see me happy any more and chose to murder him like this!’ cried Meenakshi.

  Vibhishana signaled Sarama and softly advised, ‘Take her to her chambers; she needs to pull herself together.’

  ‘No, I am not going anywhere! How dare you try to control me, Vibhishana?’

  ‘Meenakshi, I am deeply sorry for your loss. However, before pointing a finger at me you should listen to what your husband was up to . . . ’ said Dashaanan.

  ‘That is what you want, isn’t it? You want me to obey you. You want to be the emperor who controls everyone. You take decisions and order us to follow! Well, Vibhishana is already your puppet, isn’t he? And Kumbakarna is barely present to understand anything.’

  ‘Meenakshi, your brother has always cared for you the most. He has protected you the whole time,’ said Mata Kaikesi.

  ‘You are simply blinded by affection, Mother . . . Can’t you see, he has trapped one brother into doing petty labour and the other in some ridiculous sleeping boon!’ Meenakshi answered back.

  ‘Dushtabuddhi was scheming against us with the Kalkeyas. The Kalkeyas have always eyed our prosperity and your husband was nothing but a traitor to this kingdom by helping them,’ said Dashaanan.

  ‘That’s a lie!’

  ‘Listen to me, sister . . . he married you not because he fell in love with you, but to destroy me. He aimed for this throne, and what better way than to fool my sister into marriage?’

  ‘Stop talking!’

  ‘No, you should hear the truth about the man you are grieving for. And you know it, sister, you simply don’t want to admit it. You were not happy in your marriage at all. He cheated on you and barely valued you.’

  ‘So you did this because I was not happy in my marriage?’

  ‘No, I didn’t plan to kill him. I swear on my eldest son. You can ask him if you wish to, he was present there,’ said Dashaanan and Meenakshi knew he wasn’t lying.

  ‘We all knew that Dushtabuddhi was plotting something for years but had no proof. Everyone was aware of his fraudulent activities. He used my name to conduct trades, acquiring wealth by trickery. He was our enemy from the beginning, trying to cut our roots by using our army against us. Our sources recently confirmed that he had turned a huge number of our soldiers against us. He was conducting secret meetings to plan an attack on us, and one of them was scheduled today. When I reached there, Dushtabuddhi had attacked our commanders with his men. He panicked and started shooting arrows in my direction. He feared that he couldn’t escape and charged towards my chariot to finish me off. I warned him but it was too late. He knew he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Hence, before he could kill me, I had to finish him.’

  Meenakshi was still. Upon hearing Dashaanan’s side of the story, she couldn’t blame him further. No one else spoke a word. Sambukumara sat next to his father’s corpse and covered it with a cloth.

  ‘Again, I regret it had to end this way . . . I am sorry for your loss. I am aware you both will hold me responsible but I was not the one to start it. I am here for you and I promise you both that I will do anything to protect you,’ said Dashaanan.

  I saw regret in my husband’s eyes. He looked at me for a moment and I knew what he wanted to say. I had never seen him so repentant at anybody’s death after any battle. The court was dispersed and Dushtabuddhi’s last rites done by his son.

  Lanka mourned for three days. After that, we barely talked about Dushtabuddhi. Meenakshi and Sambukumara were provided quarters near the queen’s palace. Mata Kaikesi was not only concerned about her daughter’s future but also about the unvoiced tiff amongst her children. Dashaanan avoided court for a few days and stayed in his palace. I tried to reduce the guilt in him.

  ‘What happened cannot be undone, my lord. After all, it’s not your fault . . . ’

  ‘Mandodari, remember when I told you about my childhood? My brothers and sister were my pillars then; they still are but weakened with the course that I have chosen. You know once when we were young and Meenakshi was an adolescent, two Brahmin boys laughed at her worn-out clothes and she cried all night with embarrassment. The next morning I cut a lock from the head of one of the boys and made him apologize to her. I strived hard to provide for my family, my people. But I have taken her husband from her . . . ’

  ‘It is time we bury this guilt and take good care of Meenakshi.’

  ‘You are right, Mandodari. I will repair the damage now.’

  ‘I trust you will. Also, my lord, tell me about Meghanath. This was the first time you involved him in something like this. Was he brave? How did he perform the task given to him?’

  ‘You surprise me, Mandodari! Do you really need to ask if your son was brave? You underestimate him. He did just as I told him. I kept him away from the battle this time. However, I plan on taking him with me into the next one.’

  ‘The next one? Where are you taking him? He is not prepared.’

  ‘On the contrary, I am sure that he will be prepared after this battle.’

  ‘Which battle, my lord? Your son is still learning.’

  ‘It’s a battle against the devas. Indra is greedy for power and has forcefully conquered the neighbouring tribe’s territory around his capital Amravati. They have asked me to help eliminate his sovereignty over their territory. I have agreed to help, along with other rakshasa armies. Hence, we will charge against Indra and the other devas who join him.’

  ‘So it’s a battle between the rakshasas and the devas? My lord, do you think it is safe to take your son? We all know what tricks they play . . . ’

  ‘And you think Meghanath doesn’t know any tricks? He is my son; I know this son of mine better than you do. He will accompany me into battle to strike Indra. It is not only a battle, but also an examination for him,’ announced Dashaanan. And soon they proceeded towards Indralok.

  The battle at Indralok was fought for six days. On the seventh day, our army returned. I looked out for Dashaanan’s vimana to welcome my son back from his first battle. As soon as they landed, the band started playing the song of victory to commemorate their triumphant return. Meghanath stepped down and beside him, a beaming Dashaanan. ‘We must celebrate our son’s victory, Mandodari. Flowers and feast will not do justice to his majesty!’ said Dashaanan.

  I proposed, ‘Announce a grand celebration for tomorrow evening and I will make sure it is the grandest you have experienced,’ Dashaanan couldn’t stop smiling. ‘You are all invited to toast the honour Meghanath has brought to Lanka. He has vanquished not only the devas but also their leader Indra.’

  I felt a rush of pride for my son. Indeed, this called for the best—fireworks from Malayadweep, dancers from the lands of Misr and Turchia, delicacies meticulously prepared. I barely slept in anticipation of playing the hostess but I did not mind one bit; I wanted Meghanath’s name to be known in every corner of Lanka.

  The evening was inaugurated with a spectacular fireworks show. I had never seen Dashaanan so happy. Tribal leaders were invited and the people of Lanka cheered Meghanath’s name reverently. We waited for Dashaanan to narrate the tale of their victory.

  ‘On the fourth day, Indra caught me unarmed during my evening prayers. He had colluded with the devas to detain me when I could not defend myself. I decided to let them take me without putting up a struggle. It was an opportunity to assess Meghanath’s skill. Agnideva conveyed my message to Meghanath; I asked him to retract our army and pleaded with Indra to release me. The message appeared harmless but Meghanath read between the lines. His father prostrated himself to Indra!’ Dashaanan laughed, looking at his son. ‘The next day when the devas were least ex
pecting it, Meghanath attacked Indra and defeated him.’ The crowd burst into applause and cheered Meghanath’s name.

  There is more,’ Dashaanan held up his hand and continued, ‘Meghanath would have killed Indra had the devas and Prajapati not begged him otherwise. In return, they offered him a boon. My son asked for immortality. Of course, they could not grant what defied nature so they bequeathed unto him a celestial chariot. He who performs the Nikumbhila yagna and rides it into a war will be invincible.’ I hadn’t realized I was teary-eyed. I leaned into Meghanath and squeezed his hand. ‘I’m proud of you, my son. We all are.’

  ‘Indeed, Meghanath, you have made us very proud,’ Nanashri smiled.

  Kumbakarna, who happened to be awake from his Nidraasana, too congratulated them. ‘First, Lankapati Ravana, and now his son have triumphed over Indra.’

  ‘Most certainly! Prajapati announced that the devas were impressed by Meghanath’s courage, and with Brahma’s consent, bestowed the title Indrajeet on him.’

  The crowd chanted, ‘Long live, Indrajeet! Long live our prince!’

  Dashaanan bent over and whispered into my ear softly, ‘You’ve been a terrific hostess. I must tell you I am very impressed.’

  I caught a glimpse of Meghanath. His victory had humbled him. Dashaanan’s test had marked his maturation. He was no longer my little child but a prince. His resemblance to Dashaanan caught me off guard sometimes, the same small tilak, applied from sandalwood paste to mark his devotion to Shiva, the same taste in clothes, his growing moustache. He had always been his father’s son.

  FIFTEEN

  If we were not fighting the devas at Indralok, we were in conflict with the rakshasas of north Bharatvarsh. They were under Dashaanan’s stepbrother Kubera’s jurisdiction. Meghanath was only sixteen when he and Dashaanan challenged Kubera. Knowing he didn’t stand a chance against them, Kubera granted Dashaanan wealth from his treasury and pledged to maintain cordial relations. Their effortless victory was a reminder of just how formidable a team they were. We heard the news with amusement. Dashaanan asked Meghanath to stay back with Guru Shukracharya in the Himalayas and perform penance by praying to Lord Shiva. Meghanath obeyed him to acquire siddhi over various weapons.

  He returned to Lanka after ten months, having mastered the art of battle. Nanashri steered our conversation towards Meghanath’s marriage.

  ‘I praise Indrajeet—the mighty son of Lankapati Ravana—who has attained such prowess with discipline and talent. At this young age, he can operate weapons like Brahmanda-astra, Pashupatastra and Vaishnavastra,’ said Nanashri.

  ‘Bhrata Dashaanan, he has excelled at each one of your tests,’ teased Vibhishana.

  ‘He has exceeded my expectations,’ said Dashaanan.

  ‘With your permission, I would like to present a marriage proposal for our eldest prince, Meghanath,’ ventured Nanashri.

  Meghanath beamed.

  Dashaanan furrowed his eyebrows good-naturedly. ‘Marriage proposal for Meghanath! Isn’t it too early?’

  Tentatively, I contributed to the discussion. ‘My lord, he has turned seventeen. It is certainly the right time to find a suitable companion for him.’

  ‘You mean bind him in matrimony?’ laughed Dashaanan. ‘All right, then, Rani Mandodari’s wish is my command.’

  ‘I have a proposal from Sheshanaga, the king of the Nagas. He wishes to offer his daughter in matrimony to Indrajeet, the legendary prince of Lanka,’ announced Nanashri.

  ‘What is she like? Have you met her?’ I asked Nanashri eagerly.

  ‘Unfortunately, no. However, I have a portrait of her. I have heard a lot about her beauty,’ said Nanashri.

  ‘What is it about her that makes you believe she is suitable for Meghanath?’ asked Dashaanan.

  I stole a glance at Meghanath to gauge his response. As usual, his face was set in an amiable yet inscrutable expression.

  Nanashri addressed Dashaanan’s question. ‘My lord Lankesh, I have seen many portraits recently. Since the news of Meghanath’s victory over Indra surfaced, we have been inundated with proposals. Our beloved prince is the most sought-after suitor. He is talented, brave, knowledgeable, disciplined, and most importantly, very composed. In response to your question, I see a similar composure in the portrait of Sulochana that I received.’ He unrolled the scroll and showed it to us.

  ‘She has beautiful eyes,’ I said, ‘You seem to be right, Nanashri.’

  ‘Mandodari is already impressed! Putra Meghanath, I ask your opinion now, are you ready to take a wife? Do you wish to accept this proposal?’ asked Dashaanan.

  ‘If you approve of it, Pitashri, I accept the proposal.’

  Dashaanan embraced his son. ‘Nanashri, inform the tribal king right away. Vibhishana will soon call on them with gifts and favours.

  The date of Meghanath’s wedding was set a fortnight later. I felt time slipping through my fingers; I had carried him only a little while ago and now he was about to get married. My life was neatly catalogued; first a daughter, then a wife and mother, and now a mother-in-law. We filled trunks with clothes, gold jewellery, precious stones and weapons to be sent to the Nagas. I was thankful Meghanath’s marriage was not a political manoeuvre but a choice.

  The Nagas upheld a tradition where the bride had to be brought from her maternal home before she was married. Dowry was arranged by the groom’s side to respectfully ask for the bride’s hand in marriage. The night before the wedding—the ceremony to unite the two families was to be held at dawn—I slipped into Meghanath’s room. He was sitting with his brothers and didn’t notice me entering. He looked content. All I wanted for him was happiness.

  Guests poured in from every part of the world. Kings of different kingdoms, devas from Indralok and Dashaanan’s vanara friend Vali from Kiskinda. Dashaanan was sentimental about the occasion. His favourite son was getting married. The city of Trikota was draped with flowers. Gandharvas and gandharvis were called to perform during the nuptials. An apsara named Rambha was sent by Indra to dance before the ceremony. Guru Shukracharya was the priest for this wedding too. Meghanath sat in front of the mandap fire, sincerely performing the yagna as directed by his priest.

  Sulochana entranced the guests. She walked in, dressed in a white and golden bridal sari. Her beauty remarkable, but more than that, her composure complemented Meghanath’s perfectly. Their names were hailed; everyone addressed Meghanath as Indrajeet.

  After the ceremony, Sulochana received a warm welcome in the queen’s palace. I gifted her a nine-string necklace studded with precious rubies. Dhanyamalini and Nayanadini gifted her various ornaments too. The women of the antapura teased her but she did not falter. She smiled at their jokes and won everybody’s hearts with her charm. In her, I saw the perfect companion for my son.

  That year was full of weddings. Prahasta, now the chief commander of Lanka’s army, got married after Indrajeet. Atikaya, Dhanyamalini’s eldest son, soon followed. The younger lot of children—Trishir, Narantaka and Devantaka—were promoted to generals in the army under Prahasta.

  The younger generation had begun making a life of its own. Some elders were disagreeable to the position they were conferred in the family. Meenakshi sequestered herself in her estate. She held us responsible for Dushtabuddhi’s fate, and the loneliness that grew thick around her had repercussions for us too. I met her thrice in her grief. She was full of rage. All my attempts to involve her in Lanka’s activities were shot down. Her only remaining connection was with her cousins Khara and Dushana. She was not the only malcontent amid us. Vibhishana’s resentment due to his subordinate stature grew. His suggestions were dismissed at court and he was easily sidelined by Nanashri and the other council members. During the battle with Kubera, Vibhishana had suggested we forge an agreement with Kubera as he was influential in the north, but Dashaanan had refused. Dashaanan had wanted to defeat Kubera to diminish his monetary and military wealth and render him harmless. Only before Indrajeet’s wedding did Dashaanan and Kubera come to a pe
aceful agreement. Vibhishana had also proposed a few projects to further develop our infrastructure. He lobbied for a bridge to be built in order to connect Lanka to its overseas territories. Dashaanan was not in favour of this idea, preferring air travel over gratuitous architectural expenditure. Vibhishana’s opinions held less and less regard with every dismissal. He dedicated himself to Vishnu as a way of overcoming his bitterness towards Dashaanan.

  SIXTEEN

  Dashaanan consecrated a shrine in Mata Kaikesi’s honour. It took six years to build. He also built a temple near his palace for him and his mother to offer prayers to Shiva. Dashaanan had made her proud; he had served and respected her. All that she had wanted for him, he had achieved. At the shrine’s opening ceremony, Meenakshi and Vibhishana’s discontent was evident. Soon after, Meenakshi set off for Bharatvarsh with her son. Yet again I tried to persuade her to stay, but to no avail. She was not only lonely but an outsider in her own land. She went around careless of her appearance, always with a gloomy expression on her face. She was not treated well, mocked for her melancholy as ‘Soorpnakha’—the one with overgrown fingernails. She left to live a life of foraging in the forests of a distant land like a nomad, away from the family that had forsaken her.

  Right after Meenakshi’s departure, Kumbakarna and Bajrajala’s twin sons—Kumbh and Nikumbh—were engaged. Bajrajala’s maternal family was very highly regarded. She came from a family of illustrious rulers like Virochana and Mahabali. An otherwise tense Bajrajala looked peaceful during the wedding. She had once confessed in my confidence that she loved a man other than Kumbakarna. She did not tell me who he was, but I speculated he was a high-ranking soldier in our army. She could not be blamed for loving another man, but the tragedy of her love story only made me pity her. She was loyal to her husband but he was barely there. Only women, I thought, had the strength to love like this.