‘I am not sending either of you there. I need you all here. I know whom to send . . . ’ said Dashaanan.
I looked at Vibhishana. He had remained stubbornly mute, still offended since his spat with Dashaanan.
‘How do you think they will cross the ocean, Nanashri?’ I asked.
‘Well, the mainland of Bharatvarsh is connected to Lanka by an indistinct narrow bridge of land. The ocean separates us from Bharatvarsh, making it impossible for any army to attack us. And the land bridge is barely a trail, eliminating the option of halting in between the ocean,’ explained Nanashri.
‘They can attack us if they have vessels or ships,’ said Prahasta and they trailed into a discussion about the different strategies that Rama could use.
I listened patiently. They concluded that Rama could attack us if he had ships, and before he attacked, our army would destroy his ships before they could land on our shores. Strategies were being mapped. I looked at Dashaanan. He was surprised that Rama had an army by his side. From what we knew so far, Rama seemed sufficiently equipped. ‘Pitashri, we await your command,’ said Meghanath.
‘We can stop them before they sail. Summon Ahiravana immediately. Tell him I have a mission for him,’ commanded Dashaanan.
Ahiravana was Dashaanan’s cousin. He was the chief of the Patala region. He had supported Dashaanan during his battle against Indra and Dashaanan had helped Ahiravana establish his reign. He had a small but powerful army. He was entrusted to bring Rama and Lakshmana alive to Lanka.
NINETEEN
Ahiravana was convinced he could follow through with Dashaanan’s orders. Dashaanan had sent soldiers with Shardula to spy on the mission assigned to him. They were supposed to relay the news of Ahiravana’s victory. Three days passed with no news. Day four brought report of his death. He had been killed by Hanuman. Ahiravana and his men were outnumbered by the soldiers of Rama’s camp. Attacking the vanara army with fewer men would have put their lives in danger. They decided to sneak into the camp and abduct the brothers. In the dead of night as Rama’s army was sleeping, Ahiravana had got inside secretly, evading the night guards. He looked for Rama and Lakshmana and found them asleep. He used a deep sleeping draught on them. He carried the unconscious brothers out of the camp. He was to depart for Lanka with his captives the following day. Ahiravana’s army had reached halfway when it was confronted by the vanara army headed by Sugreeva and Hanuman. The brothers were rescued. In retaliation, Hanuman spared neither Ahiravana nor his soldiers.
Ahiravana’s fall turned the council of Lanka to cajole Dashaanan into releasing Sita. Dashaanan was steadfast, loath to give up Sita or shy away from the imminent battle. His attempt to contain Rama’s army offshore had failed. Before Rama could find a way to sail his army into Lanka, it was imperative for Dashaanan to stop him. Once war was declared, there was no turning back.
The next day begot a spate of dreadful events. An alarm sounded. A ship had sailed towards Lanka. At once our thoughts went to the enemy camp. Our soldiers surrounded the ship when it reached our shore. The dead bodies of Ahiravana and his soldiers were piled up in it. The sailor offloaded the cadavers on our land and sailed back. Sambukumara, Meenakshi’s son, was in the heap, a finding that chilled us to the bone.
Once again the city convulsed with agitation. Going to court felt like dipping into the past. Meenakshi was crumpled over her son’s body. Apparently, Sambukumara had been taken prisoner by the vanara army on his way back. He was killed and sent to us along with Ahiravana. I could not bear another young boy dead. Our family was straining under distress. Preparations for a mass funeral were underway. Council ministers approached Dashaanan for further discussion.
We sat attentively at court. Yet again Vibhishana accused Dashaanan. ‘Bhrata Lankesh, how can you live with the massacre we have witnessed today? Ahiravana defeated and dead with his men; Sambukumara, the only child of our sister, brutally killed. And here you are planning vulnerable strategies against the man who seems invincible,’ said Vibhishana.
Nanashri was offended. ‘Have you no loyalty, Vibhishana? Remember he is our king. You should be helping the council instead of opposing our lord’s every move.’
‘Have you evaluated these strategies, Nanashri?’ Vibhishana raised his question boldly.
‘Vibhishana, we don’t have time for this right now,’ said Dashaanan.
‘Well then, you better clear your schedule, bhrata Lankesh, unless you want your kingdom to fall apart.’
‘Decorum, Vibhishana!’ shouted Dashaanan. ‘I have taken enough of your criticism and ignored your insolence. You are spineless. Have you ever thought from my perspective?’
‘I have always prioritized Lanka’s best interests. You helped us thrive but you will also lead us to ruin. You are doomed to fail.’
‘Enough, Vibhishana, do not test my patience and goodwill further. Leave this court before I expel you and suspend your position permanently,’ said Dashaanan.
‘This is treason, Vibhishana,’ said Nanashri.
‘My lord, you should suspend him. How long will we tolerate his dissent? He doesn’t deserve to be seated at this court!’ said the chief of ministers.
Vibhishana saw angry faces glaring at him. Sarama stood up uncomfortably. She walked towards her husband. ‘What are you doing? Why are you doing this?’ she asked.
‘I am doing the right thing. Before bhrata Lankesh suspends me, I wilfully resign. I am leaving this court and this kingdom.’
Sarama reeled. Women stole knowing glances at each other. The council took the declaration favourably. The members were not fond of Vibhishana. He was respected for his relationship to Dashaanan but lacked his grit.
‘I ask you to reconsider, Vibhishana . . .’ said Dashaanan.
‘I have made up my mind, Dashaanan,’ replied Vibhishana.
‘You moron!’ began Nanashri but Dashaanan raised his hand to stop him.
‘You are not being wise, brother, but I respect your decision,’ said Dashaanan calmly. ‘Bhabhi Sarama, your position in this kingdom is not affected by your husband’s decision.’ Sarama lowered her face. Her husband had embarrassed her.
Vibhishana looked at his wife. He knew she wasn’t brave enough to walk away with him. He placed his hand on her shoulder and softly said, ‘It is all right. I am leaving alone. I don’t belong to this place now.’ Sarama shook her head with tears. He turned around and walked out. It was as if he had decided to quit long ago.
‘I can’t believe it,’ said Dashaanan. I held his hand firmly.
‘He was rebelling. Had he stayed longer, I would not have been surprised if he had challenged your place as king,’ said Nanashri.
I interrupted, ‘Vibhishana? He would never . . . ’
‘I have seen brothers disputing for the throne, Mandodari. He has been sulking for ages. His incompetence made him insecure. Going against his brother’s commands was a petty ploy to prove he could be a better king,’ said Nanashri.
The council agreed with Nanashri’s judgement. Built of the same flesh and blood, Vibhishana was genetically as gifted as Dashaanan. They were brought up and educated the same way. Dashaanan emerged exceptional. They were brothers with different destinies. Dashaanan was the king and Vibhishana a mere council member. Vibhishana had followed his brother into the dark all these years but he had been suppressed enough. He could no longer pledge obedience to his brother, especially not when, Nanashri was right, somewhere deep down he wanted to rule.
It broke Mata Kaikesi’s heart. Her family had cracked irreparably. She refused to eat and drink. She could not comprehend the reason for Vibhishana’s departure. He had not bothered to see his ailing mother before disappearing entirely from our lives.
Dashaanan visited Mata Kaikesi and shared her grief. It was not Vibhishana’s absence that anguished him, but his allegations. A family that had been in power for decades saw relationships amongst their immediate family members as a matter of repute. We were struggling to bridge differences with Mee
nakshi after her husband’s death, and now Vibhishana had struck another blow to the foundation.
Mata Kaikesi couldn’t bear it for more than six days. She died of distress. It felt as if the gods had abandoned us. One by one, death snatched away those close to us. The war had not even begun, yet we mourned the many we had lost. Mata Kaikesi’s death took away Dashaanan’s motive for success. She was his making, his strength throughout his reign. Dashaanan asked for Kumbakarna to be woken for her last rites. He had been unwell and asleep for three months, unaware of anything that had taken place. Together, they lit their mother’s pyre.
Kumbakarna was surprised to learn about Vibhishana. He knew about Sita being kept as a hostage. He was told about Hanuman and all that had followed. His condition made him incapable of participating at court. He was roused from sleep on Dashaanan’s command whenever necessary. Dashaanan and Nanashri sought his advice on the forthcoming battle. Keeping all aspects in mind, Kumbakarna suggested we wait for Rama’s army to cross the ocean if it could. He was not in favour of another attempt to finish them offshore. Only if Lanka got challenged for battle on its own land, would Dashaanan have the right to strike as per the rules. Hence, we had to wait and watch if Rama’s army could cross the ocean.
Vigilance was demanded of us. Lanka was put on high alert. The stadium that was once a sporting arena was converted into a ground where troops were to assemble if and when we were attacked. Meghanath prepared the artillery force. He briefed the soldiers in the different war strategies that would be used and divided the army into eight equal units. Each unit had its own commander reporting directly to our sons. Atikaya, Prahasta, Trishir, Devantaka, Narantaka, Kumbh and Nikumbh were promoted as chiefs of commanders, each in charge of an army consisting of 30,000 rakshasa soldiers. The remaining soldiers. were assigned to secure the city. Dashaanan also summoned other asura warriors from neighbouring regions to fight with him.
We were prepared for the war but there was no sign of Rama or any ships or boats in the ocean for days. Then almost a month later, our watch-guards reported seeing some kind of a grey lining on the ocean. It didn’t look like a fleet of ships or a threat they had previously reckoned with. Meghanath immediately sent a patrol team to find out what was approaching. The patrol guards returned after their inspection. They brought us information that was beyond the limits of our imagination.
‘My lord, the trained monkeys of Rama’s vanara army have been gathering rocks to build a path to Lanka. The grey lining visible on the ocean’s surface is in fact a manmade bridge. Rama’s vanara army has constructed a broad bridge over the ocean to commute their army to Lanka. We saw a group of trained monkeys passing and gathering rocks to build the bridge,’ said the leader.
This was beyond our wildest imagination. ‘A bridge made by monkeys! Are you sure of what you are saying?’ I asked him in surprise.
‘Yes, your majesty, initially we were surprised too. Upon sailing ahead, we saw vanara men in huge numbers instructing the monkeys. They intend to bring everything to Lanka via that bridge—an army of about 80,000 vanara men, artillery machines that can fire missiles, weapons, food, tents, hardware and an army of monkeys . . . ’
One of the ministers smirked. ‘My lord, they want us to fight a battle with monkeys!’
‘Silence! You are underestimating the enemy,’ said Dashaanan. ‘What else?’ he asked the leader of the patrol team.
He went on: ‘My lord, indeed we should not underestimate them. That bridge is well supported by layers of different rocks and designed by vanara architects Nala and Neel. We saw some rocks, probably limestone, that can float on water. Rama and Sugreeva are the leaders; and they have some brilliant minds with them. They have trained labour, warriors, skilled vanara men who are proficient in combat, and, my lord . . . ’ he paused.
‘What is it? Is there anything else?’ asked Dashaanan.
He did not meet Dashaanan’s eyes. ‘And, my lord, they have your brother Vibhishana guiding them on the background of Lanka. He joined them almost a month ago.’
Dashaanan’s eyes widened but he said nothing. Vibhishana had stooped to his lowest. It was still acceptable when he left, but joining the enemy was something we never expected him to do.
Nanashri was furious. ‘He has stabbed us in our backs! He is a traitor! A spineless traitor!’
‘Stay calm, Nanashri Malyavan,’ said Dashaanan.
‘Forgive me, my lord, but Vibhishana has betrayed us . . .’ said one of the ministers.
‘How can he go against you . . . he is your brother!’ I started.
‘A brother who wants to finish another brother for his throne . . . how else would you justify his decision to join Rama?’ added Nanashri.
‘My lord, Vibhishana is now one of the most trusted members among Rama’s supporters. We disguised ourselves as fishermen from Bharatvarsh, sailing back home. We wanted to find out more but Vibhishana would have recognized us. Hence, we returned with whatever information we had,’ said the leader of the patrol team.
Dashaanan could sense our hopes sinking. My mind was in disarray. I started thinking in all directions. We were going to fight a grand war. I could not believe it. What we thought would be a battle soon grew into a war. Dashaanan had fought many battles and wars, triumphed in most of them, but I had never experienced or even witnessed a war before. This was the first time that we were defending ourselves. The threat would be coming to our gates.
Dashaanan prepared to leave; he looked at us and said valiantly, ‘It is good to know that our enemy is well prepared for the war. And why is everybody so surprised by their planning? Don’t forget that they are coming to fight us . . . the land of the invincible rakshasas! From now on, my only family is the one with me here. I have no brother except Kumbakarna. Keep yourselves prepared . . . for the most awaited enemy to reach our gates. Har Har Mahadeva!’
Rama’s army reached our shores in eight days. We could hardly believe that they had actually landed in Lanka. Dashaanan took me to the highest level of his palace; the shore was clearly visible from there. We saw Rama’s army setting up camp far ahead of the city gates, near a mountain called Suvela. We couldn’t make out distinct figures or recognize any people from that far, but we saw chariots, artillery machines and flags. Their flag was orange and blue, diagonally divided, with a conch shell in the centre. Orange represented the vanaras of Kiskinda, and blue stood for Rama. The conch shell venerated Vishnu. And the diagonal union of the colours stood for their union—Rama and Lakshmana with Sugreeva, the new king of Kiskinda.
Anxiously looking at the enemy at our gates, I asked Dashaanan: ‘Is he here with their army, my lord—Vibhishana? How can he step on this land? Is he not guilty of betrayal?’
‘I don’t care if he is here, Mandodari. All I care about is winning this war. I have a lot to do,’ replied Dashaanan.
I tossed and turned in bed that night. The sight of Rama’s army had made my stomach churn. My thoughts were fraught with anxiety. There were so many things running in my mind. I wondered how Dashaanan could take so much pressure when it was wearing me down like this. I was pacing up and down in my chambers, waiting for the break of dawn. As soon as I saw the sunrise from my window, I took a dasi and a guard with me and walked to Mahanta’s house, the old priest who had once predicted my future.
He had passed away eight years ago, but his son Mahantakumar still lived there. He was a healer to the commoners. He was mixing some herbs when we reached his abode. He looked at us, trying to recognize me. Before he could say anything, the guard stated: ‘The queen would like to speak to you . . . she seeks your advice in private. Treat your conversation with the queen as confidential.’
‘Of course, of course . . . I understand,’ said Mahantakumar, clearing a place for me to sit. ‘I am sorry I did not recognize you, your arrival took me by surprise. What can I do for you, your majesty?’
‘Years ago, I had come to your father to seek his advice. I had seen some dreams at that time, some nightmare
s that had worried me about my husband and our future. Your father was concerned about my future . . . he had predicted a few things that I understood as time passed. And today, again, I seek some advice. My husband, my children and our kingdom are all under threat. A formidable enemy awaits us. I need to know what will happen next. If there is a war, then how will it end?’
Mahantakumar shook his head regretfully. ‘Your majesty, I am a healer. Unlike my father, I am neither a priest nor a sorcerer. I cannot help you.’
In desperation I persisted, ‘But you have the gift of vision like your father, don’t you?’
He looked at the state I was in, my eagerness, and replied, ‘I can try, your majesty. I am uncertain of what they mean when I get these visions. My father’s voice resounds in me. My own dreams elude me sometimes. However, I will try my best for you.’
He ushered us into his house. He sat down in a corner and closing his eyes, breathed deeply. We waited as he meditated. Suddenly, his eyes popped open and he gasped.
‘What? Did you see something? Anything related to the war?’ I probed.
‘A war between the two sects will be recorded in the history of mankind. A hero will die . . . for someone is to be elevated as god; the end of an era; a brother devoted to another brother; a boon misunderstood; the nectar of immortality; you shall reign next to him for years ahead, you shall tell him the truth; he is the real father; she will walk into fire; for fire is the reason she was born . . . ’ he whispered in a trance.
A chill ran down my spine. I did not know what to make of what he had said. ‘Can you say it again? What does that mean?’
‘I am sorry, your majesty, I cannot repeat it because I don’t remember what I said.’
‘But did you see anything?’ I asked him. ‘What did you see?’
‘Yes, I did. I saw two strong visions, only two . . . In the first one, I was standing outside the city gates surrounded by vanaras. They wanted something from me but I don’t know what I was doing there as I am not a soldier. Then I saw myself mixing some herbs,’ he muttered ominously. ‘It’s a strange vision. And in the second one, I saw you seated on your throne as the queen. You looked much older than you are now.’
Mandodari Page 17