Raavan- Enemy of Aryavarta

by Amish Tripathi

  The terrified Kubaer had quickly abdicated the throne, publicly announcing that he had nothing more to achieve. He now wished to retire to Devabhoomi in the Himalayas, he said, and perhaps even go further, to Kailash. He was seen off in Lanka with the respect and honour due to someone who was on his way to taking sanyas. But ascetism was far from Kubaer’s mind, especially since Raavan had allowed him to leave with most of his personal wealth, as well as his wives and favourite concubines. He had even allowed Kubaer the use of the Pushpak Vimaan to travel north—the flying vehicle was now officially Raavan’s property. And Kubaer had been appropriately obsequious while publicly appreciating Raavan’s generosity.

  To ensure that there were no counterclaims or even grumbling about Raavan’s right to the Lankan throne, Kumbhakarna had suggested that Kubaer himself crown the new king before he left. The ever-reasonable trader was only too willing to place the crown on Raavan’s head. Once a ruler had publicly abdicated his throne in favour of another, there could be no earthly reason for the latter to assassinate him. It was only logical.

  As soon as he became the undisputed king of Lanka, Raavan abandoned the rather tame title Kubaer had preferred, of chief-trader. Instead, he assumed far more grandiose ones, such as the King of Kings, Emperor of Emperors, Ruler of the Three Worlds, Beloved of the Gods, and a few others. When Kumbhakarna joked about the pompous new titles, he was told by his brother to shut up.

  With everything going just the way he wanted it to, Raavan should have been happy and satisfied. However, right at this moment, he didn’t look particularly pleased.

  ‘I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,’ he said.

  Raavan and Kumbhakarna were on their way to the lower-citadel palace that was now Kaikesi’s abode. The brothers had moved into Kubaer’s magnificent palace on top of Lion’s Rock. To reach the lower citadel, they had to pass through the large, flat piece of ground that had been converted into a landing pad for the Pushpak Vimaan. They were followed by a phalanx of one hundred bodyguards, who maintained a discreet distance from the king and his brother.

  ‘Dada, I know you are unhappy about this, but they moved into their palace a week ago. They have been delaying the grahpravesh puja just for you. You know delaying such a ceremony is inauspicious. We can’t keep them waiting anymore,’ Kumbhakarna replied.

  ‘She has deliberately brought some priests from the Sapt Sindhu for the ceremony. She knows that will irritate me. When will you understand how devious our mother is?’ Raavan snapped.

  Kumbhakarna thought it best to ignore his elder brother’s dark mood and continued walking.

  As they neared the palace, they could see Kaikesi standing at the entrance, with the young Vibhishan and Shurpanakha hiding behind her. Both children were under ten years of age, and were terrified of Raavan. The priests Kaikesi had invited were standing next to her, issuing instructions in a low voice. At least a hundred maids stood behind them, responding to every demand. Kaikesi was enjoying the luxuries that came with her son’s good fortune.

  As soon as Raavan was within hearing distance, Kaikesi glanced at the sun and declared, ‘You are late.’

  ‘I can leave,’ said Raavan.

  His mother pursed her lips and muttered something under her breath. Then she took the puja thali from the priest standing next to her and looped it in small circles around Raavan’s face. Three times. As Raavan stepped aside, she repeated the action for Kumbhakarna.

  ‘Come in,’ she said gruffly, waiting for Raavan and Kumbhakarna to enter before her. As Raavan was about to cross the threshold into the palace, she said loudly, ‘Right foot first.’

  Raavan stopped, glanced at his mother, then at the priests standing next to her, and put his left foot forward.

  ‘Dada!’ Kumbhakarna exhaled noisily in frustration, then conscientiously and carefully placed his right foot over the threshold. ‘The palace looks beautiful, Maa,’ he said. ‘You have done a wonderful job, and in such little time.’

  Kaikesi looked at her son and sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Forgive me for being so emotional, my son. It’s just that it’s rare for me to receive compliments these days. I do so much for others, yet no one appreciates me.’

  Raavan turned around abruptly and barked, ‘I need to leave quickly, Maa. I have lots of work to do. Where is this stupid puja supposed to happen? Let’s get it over with.’

  Kaikesi raised her voice immediately. ‘Mind your words, Raavan. It’s not a stupid puja! It’s the way in which we honour our ancestors and our culture. Don’t be disrespectful!’

  Raavan stepped closer to his mother. ‘You’re right. It’s not a stupid puja. It’s a very stupid puja.’

  Kumbhakarna had had enough of this childishness. ‘Stop it, both of you!’ He looked around to see all the maids studiously examining the floor, while the priests seemed absorbed in setting out the materials for the puja. Only young Vibhishan and Shurpanakha looked visibly petrified. Kumbhakarna turned back to his mother and elder brother. ‘Let’s do the ceremonies quickly. Then you will not have to cause each other any more grief.’

  ‘He doesn’t need me to cause him any grief,’ said Kaikesi bitingly. ‘He’s quite capable of doing it to himself.’

  Raavan turned to her, fists clenched tight. ‘What do you mean, Maa?’

  ‘You know exactly what I mean.’

  ‘I dare you to say it openly. What do you mean?’

  Kumbhakarna tried to calm tempers once again. ‘Listen, let’s do this puja later. We’ll come back. Let’s…’

  Kumbhakarna fell silent as Raavan raised his hand. He stepped closer to his mother, towering over her. The air between them bristled with hostility. ‘Say it, Maa. What did you mean?’

  Kaikesi didn’t step back. The source of all her wealth and power was her eldest son, yet she had grown to despise him. She also knew that however angry he was, Raavan would never harm her. She could get away with saying almost anything. ‘Don’t forget that I am your mother. I know every little detail of what happens in your life. And you know who I am talking about.’

  ‘Who are you talking about? Say it. Say it!’

  Kumbhakarna pleaded with them again. ‘Maa, please don’t say anything.’ He turned to Raavan. ‘Dada, let’s go. Come on.’

  Raavan continued to glare at his mother, molten rage in his eyes. ‘Say it!’

  ‘It was all your fault! If you had honoured your mother and listened to her as a good son should, none of this would have happened! Understand that the Gods punished you. They punished someone innocent because of you. It was because of your lack of dharma that the Kanyakumari, the noble Vedavati, was killed!’

  ‘MAA!’ Raavan screamed as he reached for his knife.

  ‘Stop!’ Kumbhakarna rushed to stand between them, pushing Raavan back and away from their mother. ‘Dada, no!’

  Raavan was out of control now. He stabbed the knife in the air as he raged at his mother. ‘You bitch! You can’t survive a day without my protection! And you dare to take her name! You dare to insult the Kanyakumari! You dare to insult Ved…’

  Raavan’s voice continued to resonate through the corridors as Kumbhakarna almost dragged his brother out of the palace.

  ‘Love?’ asked Vishwamitra, genuinely surprised.

  Following the great maharishi’s orders, Arishtanemi had investigated the likely cause of Raavan’s attitude towards the Sapt Sindhu. And he had, by chance, stumbled on the truth.

  ‘Yes. Apparently, he was in love with a Kanyakumari.’

  ‘Which Kanyakumari?’

  ‘Vedavati.’

  Vishwamitra narrowed his eyes and looked at his lieutenant. ‘Arishtanemi, how am I supposed to know which Kanyakumari that is? You think I know all their birth-names? Which temple? And for what period?’

  ‘Sorry, Guruji. She was the Kanyakumari of Vaidyanath. And this was a long time ago. Probably two decades at least.’

  ‘So he met her when he was a child?’

  ‘Yes, I believe
so.’

  ‘But we never saw her with him, did we? Not since we began tracking him.’

  ‘Apparently they met in his father’s ashram and didn’t see each other for many years after. Then they met again, perhaps eight or nine years ago. I’m not entirely sure of the time.’

  ‘So you are saying he was in love with her all this time, through his childhood? Even though he didn’t meet her for several years?’

  ‘Apparently so.’

  ‘What sense does that make?’

  ‘It makes no sense, but that’s what happened. In any case, when he found her again, with his brother’s help, she was married to someone else.’

  Vishwamitra leaned back as the realisation hit him. ‘Lord Parshu Ram be merciful! Is this the former Kanyakumari who was killed in her own village? What was the name of that place… Todee?’

  ‘Yes, Guruji.’

  ‘Her husband was also killed, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And the entire village was exterminated? Brutally?’

  ‘Yes. Nobody really knows what happened, since there were no survivors. Some people from a neighbouring village discovered the bodies a few days later. They chased the wild animals away and performed the funeral ceremonies for all the dead villagers of Todee.’

  ‘But I remember hearing that the corpses of the Kanyakumari and her husband had been cremated with full Vedic honours.’

  ‘Yes. That’s what I heard as well.’

  ‘There’s only one interpretation possible then,’ Vishwamitra said.

  Arishtanemi nodded. ‘I was thinking the same thing, Guruji. Raavan was attracted to Vedavati, but by the time he found her, she was married to someone else. She must have refused to leave her husband for him, and enraged at her rejection, Raavan killed her and her husband. Perhaps he tried to rape her… we will never know the complete truth. To wipe out any evidence of his crime, he must have massacred the entire village.’

  Vishwamitra was too appalled to speak. He’d had a long life—there were some who thought he was at least a hundred and fifty years old—and had seen some terrible things in his time. The world had never been a kind place, but savagery of this magnitude was beyond his imagination. Not since the reign of Trishanku Kaashyap could he remember hearing of anything like it.

  ‘Well, Guruji,’ said Arishtanemi, ‘we wanted a villain, and we’ve got one. A monstrous one at that.’

  ‘Kumbhakarna could not have been involved in this, surely,’ Vishwamitra said. He had always had a soft spot for the little Naga boy who had come to see him with his mother many years ago.

  ‘I cannot be sure, Guruji. But he is completely under Raavan’s thumb.’

  Vishwamitra clasped his hands under his chin, deep in thought. Then he took a deep breath and shook his head. ‘I met that Kanyakumari once, the Kanyakumari from Vaidyanath… I remember her. She was still a child then. Joyous, and kind to everyone, even animals. How a person treats those weaker than them is a good indicator of their character. Yes, I remember her… She could mimic the sound of a hill myna almost accurately. And she mimicked me as well.’ Vishwamitra smiled as he said this. ‘A wonderful girl, pure of mind and heart… a truly noble soul. She did not deserve to die the way she did.’

  ‘We have to create an India where such purity and nobility are respected once again, Guruji.’

  There was a brief silence, then Vishwamitra said decisively, ‘We have to find the Vishnu now. Yes, we have to… We have to revive our great land. We have to make it worthy of our ancestors once again.’

  ‘We have the villain we were looking for,’ said Arishtanemi. ‘Now, we need to quickly identify the noble Vishnu who will take our plan to fruition.’

  Master and disciple looked at each other, they eyes alive with a sense of mission.

  ‘Dada!’ Kumbhakarna’s voice was low and uneven. He seemed to be struggling with his emotions.

  It had been five years since the Battle of Karachapa. Raavan had been the ruler of Lanka for more than two years now. The royal family’s problems had spilled out into the open, with Kaikesi telling almost anyone who would listen to her that Raavan was not her son anymore, and she did not wish to be associated with him. Instead, she said, Vibhishan and Shurpanakha were to be treated like her own children.

  It was obvious to everyone that Kaikesi’s status in Lanka—all the luxuries she enjoyed, the charities she funded, the honour she was accorded, and the power she wielded—was founded on her identity as Raavan’s mother. But no one had the courage to say this to her face. In fact, many fed her insecurities to get favours for themselves in return.

  But of one thing there was no doubt: there was only one true power centre in Lanka, indeed in the entire Indian subcontinent, if not the world, and that was Raavan. And no one dared to confront Raavan. On the contrary, they rushed to obey his every command and followed every instruction unquestioningly. Some went a step further in the hope of winning his approval. It was one such excess that was tormenting Kumbhakarna greatly.

  ‘What is it, Kumbha?’ sighed Raavan. ‘Just manage whatever needs to be managed.’

  ‘There is nothing left to be managed, Dada.’ Kumbhakarna’s tone was unfailingly polite, as it always was when he spoke to his brother in public, but he was visibly distraught.

  Raavan stared at Kumbhakarna for a moment, and then nodded to the dainty woman sitting on his lap. She got up, picked up her blouse in a single, languid movement, and left. The other dancers in the chamber followed suit.

  ‘So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘You must remove Prahast from the army.’

  Raavan’s forces were divided into two contingents. One of them, led by officers who had been given the title of MahiRaavan, were responsible for the territories on land. The other group, commanded by officers called AhiRaavan, managed the seas and the ports. Among the AhiRaavans was Prahast, who, since betraying the governor of Chilika, had become an officer in Raavan’s army and was greatly feared for his brutality.

  ‘Kumbha, if we need to control the seas, we need ruthless officers like Prahast. Are you forgetting that it’s thanks to him that we captured Krakachabahu’s wealth many years ago?’

  ‘Dada, there is a difference between ruthlessness and adharma.’

  ‘Don’t be immature, Kumbha! There is nothing called dharma or adharma. There is only success and failure. And I refuse to be a failure, ever. I am Raavan.’

  ‘And I am Kumbhakarna, Dada. Nobody in this world loves you as I do. And my job is to stop you from committing a great sin.’

  ‘The only real sin is to be poor and powerless, as we once were. Do you remember how helpless we were in our childhood? We will never go back to those days.’

  ‘Dada, how much more wealth and power do we need? You are the wealthiest man in the world. You are the most powerful man in the world. You don’t need more.’

  ‘Yes, I do. You say I am the wealthiest man in the world. Well, I cannot rest till I am the richest man in history. And once I achieve that, who knows, I may want to become wealthier and more powerful than the Gods! Maybe that’s not a bad idea, actually. The citizens of Lanka should learn to worship me as a God.’

  ‘Dada, if you want to be a God, then consider how a God would behave. Would he allow the kind of crimes that Prahast has committed?’

  ‘Let me be the judge of how I should behave.’

  ‘Dada, what Prahast has done in Mumbadevi is beyond evil!’ said Kumbhakarna.

  ‘Once again, let me be the judge of that. What did he do?’

  The Mumbadevi port was situated on the western coast of India, at a strategic point on the sea route between the Indus–Saraswati coast and Lanka. Raavan wanted absolute control over trade in the Indian Ocean—the hub of global trade. Whoever dominated this ocean would dominate the world.

  He had managed to gain control over most of the major ports across the Indian subcontinent and the coasts of Arabia, Africa and South-east Asia. In all of these places, he had managed
to enforce his usurious Customs duties. He had also, through his ally, King Vali in Kishkindha, put restrictions on the land trade routes south of the Narmada River. He now had the most prosperous region in the world, the Sapt Sindhu, in a vice-like grip. And he squeezed it for riches for himself and for Lanka.

  Mumbadevi alone stubbornly refused to charge high Customs duties or turn away any sailor who sought refuge there. The Devendrars, the ruling community of Mumbadevi, believed that commerce had to go hand-in-hand with service, and they would not veer from doing their duty, their dharma. Raavan had decided he had to stop this for the good of his business. There could be no challenge to his vice-like grip: not only would it mean a loss of revenue, it would also weaken his image as the all-powerful king of Lanka.

  ‘He has taken control of the Mumbadevi port,’ Kumbhakarna began.

  ‘So? I ordered him to take control of the port. Are you questioning my orders?’

  ‘No, Dada! I am not questioning your orders. I am questioning your subordinate’s methods.’

  ‘I don’t care about the methods. He was supposed to deliver results. If he has, then that’s good enough for me.’

  ‘Dada, all of Mumbadevi is destroyed.’

  ‘So what? We can use the Salsette Island close by as a port.’

  Kumbhakarna was shocked. ‘Dada, did you hear what I just said? Forget about Salsette. All of Mumbadevi is destroyed. Every single Devendrar is dead. Their palace has been burned to the ground, their houses lie demolished. No one has survived—men, women, children. Their bodies were piled high on a mass pyre. The half-charred body of the kindly King Indran was also found. It looks like they were all burned alive.’

  Raavan did not react. It appeared that he was momentarily staggered by the news.

  ‘They were all non-combatants,’ continued Kumbhakarna. ‘They were not warriors. Killing them like this is an act of adharma. I have heard that some of our soldiers were so disgusted by Prahast’s actions that they have deserted the army. He has lost nearly a third of his five-thousand-strong brigade. Prahast has come back to Lanka with all the wealth of the Devendrars, hoping that mere gold will stop us from punishing him.’