“I want full authorization to curb the rebellion, your written approval with the royal seal on the order. And I do not want to answer any silly questions of the Council during the operation. I shall submit a report after I have finished the job.” Prahastha’s demeanour was irritating to say the least. I was getting tired of the whole exercise. It was as if the Council did not believe I would stick to my decision. It was frustrating, more so because I was afraid they were right.
“You will have whatever you want.” I prayed this meeting would end. Prahastha made me an elaborate bow. There was a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. One by one everyone left the room. I felt lonely, very lonely. ‘You were born lonely, Ravana, and you will live and die so.’ I could see smoke curling towards the distant, bleak, grey sky. There could be lives burning there. My sense of fairness and righteousness that I believed I possessed, were going up in smoke all around me and my palace. I know it was too early in my career as king to feel a sense of loss. I had a long way to go, many more people to torture, lives to ruin, more justification to give myself, and more terrible things to do. It was too early to play the suffering hero in the grip of remorse. Was a vacancy for shipping clerk in any of Varuna’s ships still available?
“Ravana, I want to talk to you about something important.”
“Yes mother, what is it?” I was irritated and did not want to be disturbed but at the same time I was relieved that I had someone to talk to.
“I want to talk to Mayan.”
“So talk, why you are asking my permission?”
“Stop playing the fool, you are the King of Lanka now.”
“Thank you mother, for reminding me, I keep forgetting.”
“You do not like Mandodari?”
“Does it really matter?”
“Perhaps not to you, but it may matter to her.”
“Then ask her.”
“I’m fixing the marriage this fortnight. If you want any special friends, you should invite them.”
“Do kings have friends?”
“You are the first King I know, so I don’t know the answer to that.”
I glared at her and then stared outside. I could hear her walking out swiftly. I should have been elated over the match or perhaps wary about it. But there was no emotion. My mind was blank. Darkness had engulfed the city which stared at me with a hundred eyes. Slowly, a sense of inadequacy swept through me. I had no control over things happening around me. Not long ago I had thought of controlling my destiny, even holding the destiny of others in my hands. Now I had been left in the grip of a thankless kingdom which wanted to crush me. A cold salty breeze from the sea blew past and made the small lamp in the room flicker and die out. I could hear the waves breaking against the shore. The fog over the sea slowly lifted. The lights in the distance looked as if they were dancing, Varuna’s ships perhaps. A plan formed in my head. I wanted action. I could not sit and let others plan my life. I turned away from the window and. . .
“Who is that?” I drew my sword drawn from its sheath. A small figure stood silhouetted against the grey light of the door frame. It moved into darkness with a rapidity that threw me off as mew haty eye struggled to adjust to the light. I jumped into the corner, waving my sword around. With my back to the wall, I had to guard only the front. I didn’t have to worry about a back thrust.
“Your Highness, it’s me.”
“Who are you?”
Silence…. If it was a foe, he would not have spoken and given away his position. I relaxed, but only a bit. “I won’t hurt you. Come into the light.” I told him as I heard the shuffling of feet. Then as I watched the door frame, where I expected him to appear, a firm hand gripped my wrist and whispered in my ear, “Forgive me your highness. . .” The voice continued as he blocked my kick aimed at his groin, “I’m not your enemy but your servant, believe me.”
I relaxed a bit. I could have shaken him off and delivered a punch to his nose which would have left him unconscious. But something in his voice made me trust him. Perhaps, if Prahastha was here, he would have told me that a king should never trust anyone, not even himself. My sword flew from my hand and hit the wall with a clank and dropped to the floor. I was surprised by the sudden kick which had knocked the sword from my hand. Blasted Prahastha – I think he was right as usual. But the hand which held my wrist had gone and I stood with my nerves taut. My body assumed a combat posture and the lessons learnt in Mahabali’s forests, were sending signals through my nerves. I heard my sword moving and aimed a kick in that direction. Pain waves shot from my toes as they made contact with the walls. But I was back in combat position in a trice, ignoring the pain. Then I saw him in the flickering light of the corridor. The face was oddly familiar, like that of a snake – a hooded cobra, ready to strike.
“Bhadra. . .”
“At your service, Your Highness.”
“How dare you?!”
“Forgive me your Highness but please hear me out.”
I stood there, contemplating what to do.
If I had killed him then, history would have been different. Ah history. . . it would always be different for different people and take its own course. Perhaps nothing matters one day. On this battlefield where I lie bleeding to death, I assume I have created a great chapter in history; lived a hero’s life; and died a villain’s death; or vice versa. But I might have been only having illusions of grandeur.
This war with a small prince, Rama, and his monkey men, which devastated my life and laid waste to all the things I had achieved, could be too insignificant in the history of mankind. When did I start bothering about history? History starts with me and ends with me. Perhaps the jackal eating my limbs might be surprised to know that he is swallowing a part of history. How does it matter? How does anything a poor man like me, who played Emperor and buffoon intermittently and sometimes together, did or had forgotten to do, matter in this indifferent, cruel world, which has existed before and shall exist long after I end, dissolved in the earth.
But, I was too young to know then as I am too old to care now. So I heard him out. I heard as he took me through the dark lanes of his past and the tangled by-lanes of his present. When he wept, I became indifferent. When he accused me of disowning him after I had conquered Lanka, I was really surprised. Was it not my own plan which had succeeded? What had this man to do with any of it? But I felt some sympathy for him, like I felt for a puppy which was run over by my step-brother’s chariot and kept howling through the night. I could keep this man as a puppy dog, just to spite Prahastha. The thought was pleasurable. I smiled and that idiot Bhadra thought I had relented at last. He fell at my feet and started kissing them. I was aghast. Why would st.hada man demean himself so? I tried to pull my feet back but then it was strangely pleasurable. I felt a twinge of happiness within. But suddenly, guilt washed away that tiny bit of pleasure and I shook him. I felt contempt for him and myself.
“You are my personal servant. Not a royal aide or anything fancy, just a plain, personal servant. You will do what I bid.”
“I will serve you like a dog, Your Highness.”
Something inside me snapped. Did he read my thoughts? Could he have felt the contempt brimming inside me? My puppy, my plaything, Bhadra. I felt small in my own estimation. No, I would treat him as a friend, as an equal, well not exactly equal, but almost. A slave with equal rights as his master? I would die laughing. ‘But Ravana, look at his face, look at those frail arms and pot belly, is he your equal? Bhadra is the scum of the earth, the lowliest of the creatures you are destined to rule.’ No, he is the representation of my poor Asura race. He is my bridge to the common man. He will bring me the views of my people and I will rule with, well, justice and prosperity for all.
“You may go now.” He elaborately bowed and slowly left the room.
What I needed was action. I went over the plans I had left halfway. I chewed over the details and somewhere in-between, I fell asleep. I woke to see dawn breaking over the hills. But I did
not want to get up from my bed to another weary day. Another day in which accounts of death and arson would be presented by pompous clerks, a new day where I would see the people I had vowed to protect, killing each other and praying for my death. Another day in which I would learn some more irritating administrative lessons from the likes of Prahastha. A day in which I would be pestered by my mother to marry that, what was her name – the daughter of the nutty scientist – Mandodari or something.
A lone soldier paced at the palace gates. How I envied him. He just had to walk to and fro until noon and then go home, eat his lunch, sleep or possibly make love to his wife or mistress, get drunk in the evening and then go to sleep like a hog. Life was simple and sweet. But perhaps it was not that simple. He could have an unfaithful wife, a drunkard for a son, even a nagging mother, and a sick father, to take care of. But I loved the sensation of being jealous, so I preferred the first version of his story. I wanted to call the watchman and give him an impossible task. Just to wreck his life. Perhaps the power that kingship brings, is just that, the ability to wreck other people’s lives. That was its only pleasure.
“Your marriage is fixed for tomorrow.” I was startled from my joyful reverie about wrecking the watchman’s life. It took a few seconds to recognize my mother.
“Why not today mother?”
“You are dripping sarcasm. You have never spoken to me like that. This kingship has gone to your head. It was I. . .”
“. . .who struggled to raise us, who went hungry to feed us, who went na-- no a son should not say that, but, hmm, will it be okay if I say deprived of good quality clothing, to clothe us. . .”
“Enough. Your majesty, you are forgetting a poor mother. . .”
“. . .who carried me nine months in the womb and delivered me through pain...” She stood there sobbing. I was shocked that I had spoken to her like that in the first place, without any provocation. I took her face in my hands and she looked at me, challenging me with those burning black eyes to defy her love. “Please make the arrangements for the marriage mother. The burden of the kingdom is now getting too heavy for your poor son to carry and I was not myself when I spoke to you.”
“You have just started son, asta the kinnd I hope you will not become worse than this. Tomorrow evening, as I said. Good day son.” She walked out with unfaltering steps and before remorse and shame could strike me in waves, I called for Maricha. He was too old to fight in the street and so he was the only senior officer available in the palace. Besides, he was the one I loved and respected. He never thrust his opinions on one, unlike the know-everything Prahastha.
“You called me, Your Highness?” As I waved him to sit, he sat down directly in front of me.
“Uncle, call me Ravana, at least in private.”
“Okay. Kumbha has returned. ”
“Let’s call him.”
“Before that, I want to say something important, Ravana. Your brother is not who you think he is.”
“What is wrong with Kumbha? Or are you taking about Vibhishana, the pious one?” I asked, feeling affectionate about my youngest brother.
“I will talk about Vibhishana some other day. The oaf is a matter of immediate concern.” I laughed at his reference about Kumbakarna. “It’s no laughing matter, Ravana. He has picked up bad habits. He has a weakness for girls, we all know. As long as he is discreet, it should not worry us. He visits taverns and drinks country liquor like an elephant and he never bothers to pay.”
“The boy is just having some fun. Send someone to clear the debts and charge it to my personal account. I mean, whatever is left from the account which we collected before launching the attack on Lanka. I do not want my brother’s drinking habits to be subsidized by the State.”
“It is not only that, Ravana. He has taken to drugs. He has a group of friends who make things out of bhang. They also process jellies from the Soma plant. I think Kumba was enticed by them. . .I sent two of my best officers to track what Kumbha was up to. They have confirmed what I had suspected for the past few days. Ravana, most of the time the idiot is knocked out.”
“He makes friends fast.” But then, Kumbha had always been a friendly soul, rather like a big dog waiting to be petted.
“I don’t know whether they can be called friends. They are using the oaf. And the idiot doesn’t know it.”
“So what do you want me to do, Uncle?”
“Give him some official post. Give him something to do.”
“I don’t want to be accused of nepotism.”
“Don’t speak nonsense, Ravana. Most of the people holding official posts are your relatives, like Prahastha and me.”
“That is different. You have long, administrative experience and have ruled kingdoms once. Kumbha and Vibhi are just children.”
“And you want them to remain just that? Don’t you want them to grow up? Ravana, are you saving the posts for your children? Are you afraid that your brothers will be a challenge to your dynasty?”
“Now you don’t speak nonsense. You know I’m not like that. I’m not interested in ruling forever. I have ideals and principals. . .”
“The throne you are sitting on has a way of twisting the principals to suit the occupant, my son.”
“Why is everyone accusing me of becoming corrupted by power? What power do I have? Just because I have a city to rule, and half of them want me dead, it does not mean I have to prove I’m not the ignoble Asura despot they want me to be.” ‘But why I should share the power with idiotser e t like my brothers?’
“If you are sure you are not and will not be corrupted by power. . .”
“Stop talking like Prahastha. I called you to discuss a plan I want your opinion on and I want Kumbha also to be with me. Bhadra. . .” The speed with which Bhadra appeared surprised me. Was he listening outside? How far could I trust him? “Go and fetch. . .er. . .Prince. . .Kumbhakarna.”
“Why are you taking such creatures into your personal staff?”
I laughed at Maricha’s scornful tone as Bhadra ran out. “A king has his own reasons.”
“Your personal spy, eh?”
“Why not? He is ordinary, can merge into any crowd. And he is ruthless to the point of sadistic cruelty. He seems to have suffered much and has nothing to lose.”
Maricha suddenly asked, “Hey, he was supposed to be the traitor who had started it all, isn’t it?” But before I could answer, Kumbha entered. He was looking drunk.
“Kumbha, you look a little forlorn. What’s wrong with you, son?”
“Why do you ask that? I’m not the king and don’t have to please anyone.”
“If you want to sit here and play the neglected, poor, younger, brother of the rich, cruel king, do it as long as it pleases you. Uncle, let’s go out and have a stroll in the garden and leave this melodramatic idiot.”
“No, no, Ravana, I was just joking. This uncle of ours would have sung many songs about my debaucheries to you. Just a little fun, that’s all, my brother. What’s your plan?”
I told them my plan. There was total silence.
“But tomorrow is your marriage. It will be risky.” I looked at Maricha’s deepening frown and for the first time felt apprehensive about the sanity of the plan.
“I just love it. It’s brilliant.” Kumbha pranced around the room.
“How many would you need?”
“Just the four of us, Uncle, you, Kumbha, me and Bhadra. . . and perhaps a dozen good swimmers.”
“It’s just too risky.” Maricha said shaking his head, “And how far we can trust Bhadra.”
“We have to take the chance.”
“But why do you want to? Do you want to prove something to us? We know you are brave, but I would prefer a living coward than a brave dead fool as the Asura king.”
“He’s trying to prove that he is every bit a warrior. When we won the kingdom, I never thought li
fe would be so dull. I too am longing for action. Let’s not waste time. Tomorrow is a good day.” Kumbha
was itching to leave.
“Are you leaving?”
“Why, are you afraid that I’ll go and get drunk and tell everyone about it?”
“Stop it, you two. Let us sleep over it today.”
Maricha left before Kumbha and I felt a tinge of anxiety mixed with frustration. Kumbha was my dearest friend, much more than a brother. Now every time I spoke to him, I had to think if I was hurting his already fragile ego. “I’m sorry, brother. . .” But he had left before I could tell him anything.
19 PIRATE TROUBLES
Ravana
Later that afternoon, Rudraka came to report he has arrested over 3,000 rebels and had er e >
“How many were killed?” I wanted him to say, “Just a few.”
“About 800 of our soldiers.”
“And you call that a law and order problem? It’s a bloody war out there. Will removing Jambumali solve the issue?”
“Maybe, but I’m no politician to comment on it, Your Highness.” It was amusing to see him struggle to say the last part. I was sure he considered himself better qualified to be king of Lanka. And maybe he was right. “Actually, it seems you did not understand my question properly. When I asked how many were killed, I did not want the count of only our soldiers.”
Silence.
“I hear that more than 10,000 have died.”
“Maybe.”
I exploded. “What do you mean? You’re supposed to be the army chief and what I get as a reply is a pathetic ‘maybe’. Who ordered you to massacre women and children? And old men and women?”
“Did that scum, Bhadra, feed you these opinions? Your Highness.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I choose my company. What I want to know is who gave you orders to butcher civilians?”
Asura- Tale of the Vanquished Page 15