Asura- Tale of the Vanquished

by Anand Neelakantan

  “Brother, what shall we do with this pirate?”

  “Throw him with his legs and arms tied, into the sea – a fitting end for the king of the seas.” Maricha said without a moment’s hesitation.

  “That would serve him right. No, hold on. Let’s take him to Lanka. L

  et’s drag him through the streets in his loin cloth.’ I was getting enthusiastic. “Let the people of my kingdom see the man who was responsible for their miseries.”

  “And let them also see King Ravana, who freed them from their misery. Ravana, the slayer of the pirates and the King of the seven seas,” Kumbha added with a smile.

  Maricha stared at both of us. Then as an afterthought he added. “It would be better if you gifted the King of pirates to the mother sea.”

  I ignored this piece of advice. But, if I could rewrite my life, I would perhaps start from that moment and ask Maricha and Kumbha to lend me a helping hand to lift Varuna and fling him overboard.

  20 Weddi noesp>

  Ravana

  I had to enter my royal chamber but I did not dare to. She would be there, waiting for me. I was married today. Of all the people, I married that frosty Mandodari. I knew it was inevitable but I wanted to postpone it as long as possible. But when the royal procession entered the streets of Trikota, I was beyond myself. Victory can make one foolish. And this week many things happened so swiftly that I was barely able to think.

  The word had gone ahead of us that the mighty King of Lanka had caught the pirate-King Varuna. The pirates were stripped to their loin cloths, smeared with mud and dirt, spat upon, brutally beaten up, and then made to walk in a macabre procession behind their fallen King. Thousands lined the streets, shouting triumphantly. I walked in front of the procession hoping I looked sufficiently heroic. Once in a while I raised my sword to the cheering crowd and it seemed to electrify them. I was their hero-king who had saved Lanka from the clutches of the dreaded pirate. My heart swelled with pride. I hit Varuna across his face, drawing blood from his nose. Ah, that felt good. I hit him again and raised my sword. The crowd started shouting, “Long live Ravana, long live our King”. Some poor soul came and fell at my feet. One of my soldiers kicked him and the crowd laughed. Someone near me booed. I stared into the crowd and the entire section cowered. I could smell their fear. The same people who wanted a revolution to throw me out were now afraid of me. Success can be so sweet. People bowed down to me.

  I looked back and suddenly my soldiers who had been shouting and laughing, stopped. I stared at them and they too lowered their heads. I looked at Kumbha and he smiled at me. I did not return the smile but caught Maricha’s eye. He shook his head sadly. ‘Why does this fellow not bow to me?’ I began to simmer. Varuna, with his blood-stained face, caught my eye and gave a devilish laugh. I dreaded his laugh, but more than that, I dreaded myself. ‘What sort of a demon was I becoming? Why was I treating my people like this? Why was I getting angry even at Maricha, when he did not show respect?’ Suddenly, I wanted to run and hug him and say I was sorry. But something held me back. I increased my pace and entered the palace gate.

  Standing at the far end of the long corridor, waiting for me, was Prahastha. There was a frown on his face and a faint air of disapproval. I wanted to dance round Prahastha. The idiot had kept advising me to be cautious. Fat good caution had done him and his bunch of Asura jokers. As I reached him, I slowed and looked into his eyes. He was staring at me. A staring contest. What did he want now? If he started to lecture me about statesmanship and diplomacy, I would catch hold of him by the scruff of his neck and rub his nose on the floor. Thankfully, he kept quiet. Perhaps he practised what he preached – prudence.

  “Call the court, I would like to speak to all my ministers.” I ordered him as he stood there with his frowning stare.

  I was busy hugging my sister, and Kumbha, when Prahastha spoke again. “Shall I send a message for withdrawal of the army from the southern sector of the city?”

  “Do what you think is right. You are the Prime Minister.” I dismissed him with a wave of the hand and he made a slight bow and left. As I watched his steady, departing strides, my eyes looked into those of the chained pirate-king. A smile played about his mouth. Had the wily fox sensed the political tension? It did not matter as long as he was chained like a mad dog. As far as I was concerned, he could keep his amused smile until some lowly soldier from my army saw it and decide itas concerd to wipe it off his face with a good hard knock. I could hear the festivities outside the palace. Just another reason for the Asuras to get drunk. Let them celebrate. My heart went out to them. Finally, I had lived up to the expectations of my people. I did not want to remind myself that sharks would have been eating the last of me had Maricha not turned up when he did. . . So much for my brand of heroism.

  “My hero, have you finished your day’s quota of heroism?” My mother was smiling at me and I went and hugged her.

  “You fool! What if you had got killed?” I could feel her tears dripping onto my bare shoulders. I hugged her tighter. She held me at arm’s length and peered into my face. “You look like your father, Ravana.”

  I went stiff. He was the last person I wanted to look like. I would have preferred to look like a cat run over by a chariot. I think she sensed that too. There was a thick silence. I took a few steps forward and stopped dead. There was Mandodari, leaning against a pillar and looking at me with that same toneless, featureless, emotionless, intense look. I did not know what to say. ‘Go, go and kiss her on her lips. That is what heroes are supposed to do after their bouts of heroism. Kiss the heroine and if a horse is handy, lift her up and ride into the sunset.’ Instead, I fumbled.

  “What is this, a lover’s meet? Silent communication with the eyes?” my sister, Soorpanakha’s devilish voice broke the spell. I turned and caught hold of her by the ear and she howled.

  “Any more nonsense from you and I will marry you off to the first Asura drunkard I see today,” I cried out in mock anger. I was relieved to have escaped the ordeal of striking up a conversation with Mandodari. I sneaked a glance to see if she was blushing or feeling shy. Nothing of the sort. Just that stare. That piercing stare which went through my soul. Could she read my dark secrets? ‘Oh God, if I married this creature, she would stare and stare and one day I would go up in smoke.’

  Suddenly I felt my privacy violated. I had forgotten about the pirate- King. He was standing there with that arrogant smile playing on his lips, drinking in the scene unfolding before him. Chained and almost naked, he did not seem bothered about his plight. Why hadn’t a minister or officious bureaucrat, dragged this prisoner away to his dark cell? All the useless Asura fools were enjoying their King’s victory and had forgotten about their king and his captive. I shouted at the top of my voice. It was another five minutes before someone appeared and made an elaborate bow. I wanted to kick his black arse but it would have been unfair to punish this efficient Asura for his promptness. I asked him to drag the pirate-King to one of the dark, underground cells where Kubera used to keep his detractors.

  The deferential way in which my guard was treating the pirate-King almost made me gag. Except for his chains, Varuna looked as if he was on a state visit. My biggest challenge would be to discipline these Asura clowns. They behaved like children. Images of the twenty odd soldiers who had risked their lives a few hours before, believing in me totally, flashed through my mind. How many were dead? How many widows had I created? How many children in those huts sprinkled beyond the city walls would fall asleep crying for their fathers, for many days to come? Tomorrow I would visit the huts of my soldiers who had gone missing or been killed. I would ensure their children would not starve; nor the widows dragged into the vicious net of prostitution. I owed them that much for trusting me and sacrificing their lives. ‘What a great man I was. But what about tt wves. How would I ever feel happy if this joker inside me kept throwing such ridiculous thoughts into my mind? I had the right to feel noble and great, at least once in a while.

/>   And where was Bhadra? The guy was an enigma. Could he have died so easily? I felt responsible for the death of my beloved servant. The sun climbed up and everything looked fresh and washed after the previous day’s shower. Birds chirped in the trees and dragonflies buzzed around the flowers in the overgrown garden. I looked out of the window and could see kites hovering over the swaying coconut palms. Crows cawed and the distant sounds of women washing clothes, kept rhythm with each other. All was well with the world and it was one of those wonderful moments when all thoughts ceased and a pleasant emptiness filled my mind.

  “Pray. Pray for your soul and the men you have killed. And peace shall be yours, my King.”

  “Shut your mouth, you. . .don’t tell me what to do. . .” I did not know Mandodari was standing near by, watching me with those intense eyes. I was startled to hear her voice. I had been so absorbed with nature. Now I wanted to grab her throat and squeeze the life out of her. Had I asked this prude for her advice? How dare she enter my world and talk rubbish? She had gone pale and a sob quivered in her throat. I was embarrassed at my outburst and felt the anger drain out of me. I had never been in such a situation and did not know what to do. Should I apologize? But she had deserved it. I felt my anger return.

  “I’m sorry. . .” she said.

  “Alright, alright. . .” I wanted to add that she had had it coming but I prudently kept quiet.

  “Your Highness, the court has assembled,” the guard shouted at the top of his voice. I was thankful for the break and walked past, my mind racing through the probable questions Prahastha and others would raise and how best to deal with them.

  The court was in full assembly and the dozing guard at the door snapped to attention when I went past him. It bothered me a little that I had to cough and let him know of my presence before he showed his version of respect. I wanted to kick the guard and drive some discipline into his wooden head. But then I would have ended up kicking my entire army. Besides, I had more important things to worry about than being a drill sergeant to my soldiers. Now the priority was to emphasize my authority and not let the Council take over. I knew Prahastha would be scheming behind me as he was livid at my spectacular victory against the pirate-King Varuna. He might even thrust forward his hare-brained opinions about how to treat the pirate and quote from some obscure books on the Asura code of conduct. I decided that if he quoted some ancient Asura sage, and said that I had to leave Varuna with full state honours as a visiting King, I would ensure that the pirate-kings would be demeaned to the maximum possible extent, dragged through the streets and flogged in public, and finally left to an agonizing, slow and painful death in public. I was worried and unsure how the rest of the Council would respond. I had to get rid of this farce of a Council. Why did I need them to give me advice on how I should conduct myself?

  As I entered the durbar, I looked around. The ornate chair at the end of the room had a decorative umbrella over it. Pearls and diamonds of various shapes hung from its frill. There was a huge diamond on the chair back. It was the royal throne of the king of Lanka. I felt a little perturbed that it had not come naturally to me to think of it as my throne. Yes, it was thYesr back. Ie same throne which had supported my half-brother’s fat bottom. Where his pompous Highness sat dispensing his version of justice. I stood transfixed. I had came a long way, a very long way, from the day when I had accompanied my mother and siblings to beg before Kubera, who had been sitting on this same throne, and he had thrown a few coins at our feet and dismissed us like beggars, with a wave of his hand.

  I climbed the steps to the throne.

  “Stop!” The shout echoed inside the large durbar hall. I turned back hastily and my steps faltered. Then I saw Prahastha standing with his arms crossed behind him. Blood shot into my veins. Instinctively I drew out my sword. The ministers who had been sitting, stood up in their seats. ‘Why were they sitting in the first place? Were they not supposed to stand up when I, the King, entered the room?’ My lips trembled and I was sure my eyes had turned blood red. I had never felt angrier in my life. Prahastha, my prime minister, had stopped me from touching my own throne. Had I been blessed with prophetic vision, I would have thanked him and walked out to the freedom waiting outside the palace. I should have gone then, leaving the governance to those who were learned like Prahastha, and pursued my true interest in music. Instead of bringing death and damnation upon my beloved people, I could have presented the world with hours of pleasant memories with the ragas I could have composed. But the magnetic pull of that golden throne is not matched by anything else in the world.

  I stood rooted to the spot and then slowly raised my sword and pressed the sharp tip against Prahastha’s chest. I raised an eyebrow and glared at him. He stood there without flinching. I could sense the tension in the room. Many hands had gone to daggers and swords.

  “Your Highness, your official coronation ceremony is not done. Until then you cannot touch the throne. You cannot sit on it without your royal crown. Our custom dictates that.” Prahastha addressed me evenly. The tension in the room eased and I felt like a fool. I felt like slapping my own head. I looked around and caught the eyes of Maricha. He had an uncharacteristic frown on his face. Rudraka had a sneer and Jambumali and Malyvan were discussing something with Sumali. Dhumraksha and Vajradhamstra were standing near the round pillar on the farthest right corner and looking at me with unconcealed hatred. I did not know what I had done to earn their hatred. I searched for a suitable chair to sit on and to my chagrin, there was only a battered old wooden chair left. With some reluctance, I pressed myself onto the seat, half expecting a bug to bite me. Maricha noticed my predicament and tried to lift his chair and bring it to me. I waved him away and sat down in the creaking chair.

  Immediately, Prahastha called out in his tough harsh voice, “Council meeting commences.”

  ‘Wait a minute, had I not dismissed this stupid Council? Then why was this idiot acting as if we were going to sit here for the whole day like the olden days and talk and talk and do nothing? Council, my foot! If I did not act now, I would become the Sarpanch of the Asura race and not its king.’

  “Has it escaped you that the Council was dismissed long before we ever set foot on this island? Next time I hear any of you talking about the Council, you can catch the next ship to the mainland and join the old Emperor in his mad pursuits. That is, if I’m in a good mood. God forbid if my mood is bad. Then you can expect to end up as a crocodile meal in the moat aroundhe and jo the palace. Do I make myself sufficiently clear?”

  “But. . .” Prahastha had gone all red and Jambumali was trying to say something.

  “And I do not care if it violates a dozen Asura codes and customs. I make my customs. I will act according to the rules I make. I am sick of these thousand-year-old traditions. Just to prove my point, I am going to sit on the throne Kubera has left. I do not care for any ceremonies. I owe the kingdom not to any Asura superstitions. This is a new world, a modern world, and let the beliefs and superstitions of the old India not tangle our march towards progress.”

  Before I could lose steam, I deliberately took the old wooden chair and threw it at the nearest wall. It broke with a loud snap and I thought it was symbolic. I turned swiftly and marched towards the throne. I could hear the shocked intake of breath from my Council…and my ministers. I sat down with a flourish. I felt some trepidation, and then a shiver and thrill passed through me. I slowly leaned back until my head touched the headrest. My hands played with the contours of the huge diamonds on the armrest. A cold breeze blew in from the sea and streets sounds came in from outside the palace. All was well with the world. And the world went on whether Ravana sat on a gaudy chair with some ceremonies or without. The strange sense of elation I had felt a moment ago, drained away to be replaced by a sense of emptiness. The images of my men drowning and the heart-wrenching scenes in their homes, disturbed my mind. ‘Was this two-feet thick cushion worth it? What had I become? A pacifist? My ambition was to conquer the world.
I wanted to be the Emperor of India, the saviour of the Asura race, the benevolent ruler who would bring prosperity and happiness to his subjects.‘

  I wondered why my ministers still stood. ‘Ah this was good. They were waiting for permission from me.’ I gestured for everyone to be seated. Prahastha continued to stand. He struggled to say something. I deliberately crossed my legs and started massaging my left heel. I balanced my leather shoe and swung it with my toe. I thought I should get a cobbler to stitch a few pearls on my footwear. It would look good. My gesture of superiority was not lost on any of my ministers. I was happy that they were learning fast who was the boss. But I could not meet Maricha’s eyes. It would have been embarrassing for both of us.

  “Your Highness,” I noticed there was a small lisp in Prahastha’s voice, “the first point we would like. . .that is. . .you should take a decision on is the fate of the pirate-king Varuna.”

  I should have pointed out to him that a prime minister should not use words like ‘you should’. I did not want anyone to speak to me in ornate sentences with a hundred nuances. I had made my point and I did not want to press it any further. All said and done, if any of these ministers resigned, I would have been hard pressed to find a suitable replacement.

  “What is your advice, Prime Minister?” I was sure he would suggest that the pirate should be treated with full honours and given a royal reception befitting a visiting royal dignitary or be sent free with lots of gifts. He would back it up with some stories of some Asura king who may or may not have lived a few thousand years ago, and who had treated his captives with great respect. I would have liked to know what happened to that magnanimous king a few years after his splendid display of chivalry. Most probably the let-off captive had come back with more might, conquered this king, and then rendered the most inhumane punishment possible without a passing thought about chivalry. But no one learns from history. Whether the Devas or the Asuras, there are as,g, enough fools to add new chapters to this mutually destructive competitive chivalry, though I must admit the Asuras do it more often, thanks to the learned men like Prahastha. When that learned man voices his wooden-brained opinion about chivalry, I was going to blast him.