Asura- Tale of the Vanquished

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by Anand Neelakantan


  “Bhadra, you scoundrel, you were trying to murder me. You are either a ghost or you refuse to die!” It appeared that he was also confused. Taking advantage of his predicament, I continued to plead. He stamped his foot in anger. I stopped whimpering and crawled back to the wall and curled into a ball. I was still shaking. His anger was unnerving. I had always suspected that he was a dangerous man and his characteristic calm and poise was just a mask, but seeing him with his sword poised to thrust into me and the mad gleam in his eyes, I was certain. I was sure he was the most cunning and ruthless of all men I had ever seen. He would go to any extent to achieve his ambition. He was unlike his brother, Ravana, who, though an egomaniac, was a nice person with compassion in his heart and a sense of justice and righteousness. This man was the devil incarnate. He was passionless and his piety and humility were all pretence. He would not hesitate to kill, maim or serve anyone if it served his purpose. He hid his ambitions well, but in the flickering light of the oil lamp and the ghastly shadow it produced on the opposite wall, I could see through his soul. Perhaps I saw the evil shadows of the future also. What the great learned ministers or all-powerful Ravana did not even suspect, Bhadra, the country bumpkin, knew. One day, if an opportunity presented itself, this bastard would sell his soul for a piece of land or some gold coins. I fell at his feet again.

  “What are you doing in my room?” His voice had a sinister edge.

  “Sir, I was afraid to tell His Highness. You know his anger. But you take decisions with a calm mind and do only what is right. . .”

  “You idiot, how dare you enter the palace at dead of night? Did nobody stop you? Where are the palace guards?” His voice rose each moment.

  “My Lord, my lord. . .please. . .This is a matter of utmost importance and secrecy. Please do not call the guards. . .”

  He kicked me and I groaned.

  “Why should I not call the guards? You should be hanged.”

  “This involves your sister. She is meeting with someone. . .please do not kick me. . .”

  He stopped and raised me from the floor by my throat and whispered in a malicious hiss, “What have you got to do with my sister, son of a swine?”

  Between the choking and coughing, I managed to say with some satisfaction, “Vidyutjihva, the rebel king and traitor your people have been huntinve ot to dg for the last few months, is with your sister now, in the garden.” I completed my words with a smirk. ‘Take that, you blue blooded Asura bastard.’

  He threw me to the floor, but I could feel his strength had ebbed. He sat on the bed tired, not knowing what to do. My time was running out and I had to think fast. “Shall we call Lord Maricha, Sir?”

  “I will go. Are they still there?” He slowly stood up and put the sword back into its sheath and belted it round his waist.

  I could not resist adding, “They couldn’t have finished by now.” He glared at me and I expected another blow, but he simply walked out of the room. I followed in his wake. Maricha slept on the ground floor, with his family. We descended the wooden stairs. He paused for a few seconds before Maricha’s room, and then knocked softly. There was no response for some time and so he knocked again. After a few minutes of silence, we heard the rustle of clothes and someone walking with heavy steps on the wooden floor. The door creaked open. Maricha stood with sleepy eyes and was visibly irritated.

  “Uncle, we have a problem with Soorpanakha.” Suddenly Maricha was alert. He closed the door behind him and came out. Vibhishana explained and when he mentioned me, Maricha’s eyes expanded with surprise. He heard everything and went back into the room. When he came out, he was fully armed. We moved out of the palace past the snoring guards. Wh

  en we reached the garden, I pointed to the place where his sister was and slowed down to hang back. The two warriors approached from either side. Suddenly there was a piercing scream and I saw the princess run into the palace. She was almost nude. Then there was the noise of a scuffle and Maricha, seeing that the princess had reached the palace safely, shouted for the guards. Vidyutjihva fought bravely and would have murdered Vibhishana, had not scores of armed guards arrived and captured him. The guards were sleepy, drunk and slow, but numbers did matter.

  At last I was free! Now I could have Mala for myself. I did not have to share her with wooly-eyed aristocrats with illusions of grandeur. I wanted to howl and dance and sing. But I remained hidden in the bushes. In the event of Vidyutjihva doing some heroic act and escaping or becoming the top dog in the scuffle, I did not want to be caught on the wrong foot.

  24 Death of a revolutionary

  Ravana

  I lay and tossed on my bed. Sleep eluded me. Today too I ended without sex with my wife. I had always thought I had a tremendous sex drive. But my marriage has been a disaster from the first. On the first night, my frigid wife refused to even undress. She submitted to my half-hearted caresses with an immobility that bordered on death. She tried to be a model wife as far as other things were concerned. She took care of me like a small child, which irritated me to the core. She was kind to all and sundry, and tried to run the palace like a village housewife. But three times in my four months of marriage, when I attempted to get close, she was like a wooden block. I lost arousal, both sexual and mental, in a few seconds. After that, I did not dare attempt anything. Night after night, I spent hours on my bed irritated with myself, my wife, and the whole world, while my wife slept soundly beside me, fully covered like an old woman, without any concern that her husband lay wide awake, hating her every moment for her indifferent attitude towards him.

  There were noises somewhere out in the garden. Wearily I got up from my bed and went to the window. It was closed. Even in the hot, tropical ve ot/fonights, my wife did not allowed me to open the windows. That was another thing that irritated me. I prised the window open and the sounds became clearer. Some scuffle was going on. Blasted Asuras, some soldiers must have been fighting after a good drinking session. Someone knocked on the door. Before I could reach the door to open it, the knocking became louder. I opened the door, glancing back at the queen. She slept like a baby, unmindful of all the commotion around. Uncle Maricha was standing outside, fully armed, and before I could ask anything, he gestured for me to remain silent, grabbed my left hand and dragged me out.

  “We have a problem.” Maricha whispered in my ear. I braced myself to hear the news of an imminent attack by some Deva army or Varuna turning against us. I never imagined it would involve my sister. And of all the rascals and goons on earth, I did not imagine Vidyutjihva would be the person involved with my sister. In growing surprise, then in dismay and anger, I listened to the licentious story of my sister’s nocturnal adventures. She had shut herself in her room and refused to come out. The only good news I heard that night was that the biggest rebel and my rival, Vidyutjihva, had been captured. And surprise, surprise, it had been my pious brother, Vibhishana, who had done a worthwhile act for once in his life.

  I did not even bother to put on my sandals or my shawl. I asked Maricha to call all the ministers to court and immediately commence a trial. I walked as fast as I could towards the durbar. I was sure my wife would not even have heard the door banging shut. Bless her.

  The durbar was dark and the guards were sprawled on the floor, fast asleep. One was snoring. I kicked him in the ribs and he scrambled up with a curse. Then, seeing me, he blinked like an owl for a few minutes. Recognition finally dawned and he promptly fell at my feet. I did not have time for his antics so I kicked him again. He ran out and the other buffoons also awoke and ran. I stood in the dark till my ministers arrived. My servants had not lighted the lamps or torches and we stood in the centre of the durbar hall as the idiots ran hither thither like rats. After overturning two chairs and breaking a good vase, the room was finally set and the assembly began in earnest.

  Prahastha, with his characteristic emotionless voice and precision of thought, managed to irritate everyone. He advocated the beheading of the rebel the next morning, in the main ma
rket place, to set an example to all those who nurtured intentions of rising against the State. For once, I found myself in agreement with Prahastha, but was unwilling to conclude the proceedings immediately after his speech. No one stood up to contradict him. I saw Maricha fidgeting and on the verge of saying something. Vibhishana was uncharacteristically silent and we were all spared the heavy dose of morality and ethics which he usually shoved on us at every possible opportunity. He must have been gloating over the fact that he was instrumental in capturing the rebel and did not want to lose his glory. As silence ruled, I stood up to say that the execution would take place the next evening. Prahastha had suggested early morning, so I felt good about contradicting him. Wearily, I dismissed the meeting and returned to my room.

  My wife was still sleeping and a silver beam of moonlight illuminated her face. She looked so angelic and innocent that I was moved by the sheer poetry of her face. I had a sudden urge to kiss her. I sat beside her, grabbed her face, and kissed her on her lips. She mumbled something and turned on the other side and continued to sleep. Denied again, I wanted to grab her by her hair and bang her head to pulp. heer l But then, unknown to me, in the past four months of marriage, a seed of love had been planted inside my soul. Against my wishes and determination, I found myself madly in love with my wife. I lay down, careful not to touch her, and started thinking about Bhadra, how he had come back into my life, and then my thoughts drifted to my sister. She was someone who had been denied everything in life. As a child, she had been denied every comfort, love and affection. It was no wonder that she fell into the trap of love. I had cornered the lion’s share of my mother’s love. Then, when we grew up, I had been so much in love with myself and my ambition, that I had forgotten to even acknowledge my sister’s existence. She had always been a lonely child. Not beautiful to look at, a dark and somewhat plump girl, her existence had been dreary and dull until suddenly she became the princess of Lanka. Then there were many suitors. I had been so immersed in governing that I had not kept an eye on her. I had the feeling that she had become more bubbly and happy, but put it down to her sudden elevation in status. Now I understood why she appeared so happy. She was in love, or she believed she was in love. Whether the feeling was reciprocated by that bastard, I did not know. How daring of him, to court the King’s sister when there was a price on his head. Was he using my sister as a bait? I would ensure he paid a price for his audacity. Rudraka will have a good time tomorrow.

  I kept tossing on my bed as sleep eluded me. Finally, giving up any attempt to sleep, I got up to perform my morning chores. My wife slept without a worry in the world. I envied her for a while and then without disturbing her, I went out of my chambers.

  My ministers were waiting for me when I reached the durbar. I was late and I hurried to my throne. I could feel the tension in the air. And then I saw her. I did not like it. I did not like it a bit. Soorpanakha was standing there, hair dishevelled, eyes red and sore, in an angry mood. The last thing I wanted was emotional blackmail. I hated it when my governance became mixed with personal affairs. I was in a no-win situation here. I was sure she was going to use all her tricks to persuade me to let her lover off the hook. I was already angry by the time the murmuring settled down in the durbar. I looked around and caught Maricha’s eye. He was shaking his head and I braced for the worst. Prahastha sat with his hands crossed at his chest, his determined chin up, and a look of supreme arrogance and defiance in his face. Kumbha drooled in his seat and Vibhishana was busy going through some palm leaves. All my ministers sat in various postures of defiance.

  “I wish to marry Vidyutjihva.” There was perfect silence in the room and Soorpanakha came a few feet forward and looked me straight in the eye and repeated, “I will marry him and you can have him hanged after that. And once you murder him, I will commit sati on his funeral pyre.”

  Inadvertently I flinched. The notion of an Asura woman committing the custom of Deva widows, would have been shocking, even if she was not my sister. The entire clan would become a laughing stock. “Don’t try to blackmail me.” I shouted at the top of my voice.

  Then she started behaving hysterically. She began hitting her head with her hands, tearing her hair and screaming at the top of her voice. It was quite a scene. I could see the servants and guards trying hard to stop laughing. I became pale and was totally clueless as how to handle the situation. It was most embarrassing. I looked at Maricha but he was concentrating hard on a small spot on the opposite wall, studying it intently. Soorpanakha called me names and dared me to bedarost embarhead her. The entire palace was silent except for my sister’s insane howls, screams and curses. I felt helpless, angry, tired and confused. But more than that, I felt guilty for not being a good brother, for not caring enough for my family, for separating my siblings from our parents, and for being so nakedly ambitious. I knew I was weakening inside.

  I saw Kumbha rise from his seat. “Brother, this is a family issue and we should deal with this in private,” he said ponderously. I was grateful to him and stood to denote the dismissal of the meeting. Then my favourite friend stood up. Prahastha, in his most pompous and grating voice, said, “Your Highness, this is no longer a family issue. This concerns the entire Asura kingdom. This is about an enemy of the State and how firmly we deal with terrorism and treason. This is about the future of a nation. The fact that the rebel is a lover of the King’s sister, does not change anything. Rather. . .”

  I cut him short with a grunt and then exploded, “Stop your lecture, Prahastha. I know what it is and how important it is to our race and civilization. But have some patience and pity on the poor girl. . .” My voice trailed off. Had I become so weak that I had to ask for pity from my own minister?

  “I do not have anything to say in private. I want to be hanged by this heartless monster.” Soorpanakha started screeching again.

  Prahastha stood up, bowed and left. One by one, all my ministers left, except Maricha, Vibhishana and Kumbha. I sat on my throne with my head buried in my hands. A splittin

  g ache had started throbbing deep inside my head. Maricha came near me, patted me on my shoulders and asked me to take a decision according to my conscience. From there things went out of my control. Vibhishana and Kumbakarna argued that nothing was more important than our sister’s happiness. They insisted that if we could not make our own sister happy, the kingdom was not worth it. I wanted to protest that I could not let a man accused of treason go unpunished, just because my sister wanted him. I, as King, could not set a bad example. I had many arguments why Vidyutjihva needed to hang but I am ashamed to say, I kept quiet. I allowed them to convince me that Soorpanakha needed to be married off to her lover. So, against my better judgment, against my minister’s advice, against what was right, moral, ethical, and even practical wisdom, I allowed my sister to marry the enemy. I retired to my chambers, a broken man, leaving Vibhishana to convey the news to my sister.

  25 A little worm

  Bhadra

  It had been six months since Vidyutjihva had become Ravana’s brother-in-law. My life, as usual, continued to be miserable. I could not show my face in the palace since Vidyutjihva would have ensured my death. I was also not sure about Ravana. Now that they had become relatives, I did not know what my position was. I hid in the forest for a few days and when hunger chased me out of hiding, I tentatively came out to the streets. For a few weeks I lived in mortal fear of getting caught. Every time I saw a soldier or heard the noise of the police chariots rumbling through the streets, I hid. Then slowly my fear ebbed. I was too small for kings and the relatives of kings to be bothered about me.

  After a few more weeks of loitering about the streets, I moved in with Mala. At first she was glum and did not want to have anything to do with me. The entire revolutionary cadre had been dismantled with the disillusioned idealists returning to the villages on the mainland and the opportunists, who were the majority, joining Ravana’s army and holding positions of power. Mala was a subject of ridicule as hedar
os anytr hero lover had left her for the dark and ugly princess. On the first day she did not allow me inside her house and abused me. I grinned as I knew I had won. Finally, at midnight, I was allowed in and I had a real meal after months. Then we made love and slept, but in the morning she was sour again. I ignored her mood and kept humming that old Asura folk song which I knew irritated her. The song was about a plump, dark Asura girl who chased every man in town. It was a rowdy song and I paused and rolled and cooed at the appropriate places to make sure she understood who the heroine of the song was. She went out after showering me with more abuse, but nothing could dampen my mood for many days to come. That was until I found out that she was meeting her old lover on the sly.

  I was so mad with the slut that I wanted to murder her the night I found out about her trysts. Instead, I ended up between her legs panting and puffing. I was angry with myself for being manipulated, angry with her for treating me like this and I plotted revenge. With each thrust, I imagined my dagger piercing that man’s bowels. She pushed me back with contempt and went outside the hut to wash herself near the well. The image of her standing stark naked in the moonlight made me feel weak but I turned and closed my eyes. I could hear her coming into the room, but I did not turn. I could feel her naked body beside me, but her contempt erected a wall thicker than that of any fort. I wanted to turn and grab her, but I could not. I lay there with my heart beating furiously, my thoughts of erotic adventures mixed with physical violence, anger mixed with lust, and a hundred other emotions, all coiled together like cobras. I developed a headache and lay there helpless and naked, with the growing realization that I was nothing but an impotent worm in the greater order of things in this big, bad world.

  When I woke, I felt irritable. I stood up lazily with a towel around my waist and walked towards the well. I could smell the toddy on my body and I was disgusted with everything. I stood for a long time gazing at the reflection of my black face in the glistening well water. I wanted to jump in and end it all. But there was only two feet of water. Slowly, a plan formed in my mind. I had to meet Ravana somehow.

 

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