Rama turned back to the others. From the look on Jambavan’s face, the bear king seemed pleased rather than displeased at his decision. Only General Sarabha still looked sour, but Rama dismissed that as the inbred vanar distrust of all rakshasas. ‘Lakshman,’ he said quietly, ‘give the order to resume the march.’
Lakshman issued the order smartly. It was taken up by Prince Angad, then passed along the line. Rama could hear the shouts proceeding in stages down the yojanas-long ranks. Finally, slowly, like a juggernaut starting up, the procession began to resume its forward motion. In a few more moments, it had achieved a pace akin to a man walking steadily. And in another several moments, Rama and Lakshman were running, then sprinting. Rama found the rhythm he had been marking before, just enough to keep the armies moving briskly, yet not so great that the lines would tire and fall behind. Soon, the great procession was proceeding at a swift pace across the ‘bridge’. In the water, the greybacks lowed and called down the line, passing on the word that the army was on the move again.
THIRTEEN
Lanka.
The island-kingdom loomed before them on the horizon, proud and magnificent, a pearl set in a bed of lush, green velvet surrounded by a perfect azure sea. Even from miles away, its beauty was unmistakable. Rama allowed himself to slacken his pace, Lakshman slowing down beside him. The generals passed on the word that they were halting, while the rank and file muttered in awed consternation at the sight of their dreaded destination. Below their feet, the greybacks lowed. The sun, low in the western sky, illuminated the island-kingdom in a beatific golden light, the ocean calm and still around it, glistening peacefully in the slanting sunshine. Birds flew around the crown of cliffs that ringed the northern shores, and the lush, green flora on the hills that rose up was dotted with patches of red palas flowers in bloom.
It looked so tranquil, so alluring, like a haven of respite, rather than a lair of rakshasas.
‘It must be Ravana’s vile sorcery,’ Lakshman said doubtfully. ‘He has altered the aspect of the land to appear beautiful and inviting, in order to deceive us.’
‘Nay, Lakshman,’ Rama said. ‘I do not think this is Ravana’s doing. I think this is Lanka’s own natural beauty. After all, do not forget, the legends say that Lanka was a great and beautiful land long before Ravana made it his home. We are so accustomed to thinking of it as a den of asuras that it is easy to forget that the land itself is not evil, only those who occupy it presently.’
Hanuman came up, bearing his passenger upon his shoulders. Vibhisena, who had heard Rama’s last words, said, ‘Indeed, Rama. You speak truly. Lanka is a great and beautiful land, rich in resources and bountiful in harvest. If you think it beautiful now, what might you have thought had you seen it a few thousand years earlier, when my half-brother Kubera ruled it.’
‘Kuber,’ Lakshman said thoughtfully. ‘He is the treasurer of the devas, is he not?’
‘He is. A veritable lord of wealth. Ravana invaded his inner sanctum in the realm of the devas, decimating his army of yaksas, and stole from him his celestial vehicle Pushpak as well as a large share of his great treasure trove of wealth. Then he usurped Lanka, which Kuber had been given as a gift by the devas for his many services, and proceeded to turn it into a living hell on the mortal plane.’ He sighed. ‘It was only after Ravana was incapacitated during the last fourteen years that my sister-inlaw Mandodhari was able to repair some of the damage he had wrought to its natural beauty. What you see before you now is only a pale shadow of the Lanka that once used to be.’
‘And shall be again,’ Rama said quietly.
Lakshman looked at him.
Rama looked back, nodding. ‘We come not to destroy, but to reclaim. Our quarrel is only with Ravana and those rakshasas who make the error of supporting his vile ways. Once we have secured what we have come here for, we shall leave Lanka better than we found it. That is how we shall show the Lankans that we Ayodhyans are builders, not destroyers. And that their true enemy was Ravana himself, for leading them so far down the path of unrighteousness.’
Lakshman frowned doubtfully but spoke no objection.
Vibhisena’s eyes filled with tears. ‘My lord, if you could truly achieve such a thing you would be blessed for a thousand lifetimes.’
‘It shall be so, my rakshasa friend. We did not choose to start this war. But we shall be the ones to end it.’
Lakshman inclined his head at the sun, low on the western horizon. ‘We should try to make land before nightfall. It will be harder for the vanars and bears to cross in the dark.’
Rama nodded. ‘Yes. Let us make speed. Give the word to the lines behind that we shall not stop now until every last soldier is safely on land. To Lanka!’
‘TO LANKA!’ came the thundering, excited response.
***
Supanakha prowled the walls and ceiling of the cavern where Ravana had commanded the generals to assemble. The chamber had been carved out of rock by Ravana’s asura sorcery, along with the labyrinthine network of caverns that riddled Mount Nikumbhila. Ravana’s fiendish imagination, never at a loss for creativity, had shaped some of the natural rock protuberances in the ceiling and walls to make them resemble anthropomorphic shapes and outlines. The one she was clinging to with feline grace was shaped to resemble an apsara and a deva in the throes of copulation. She wondered if the deva depicted in the act of kama was Indra himself. The thousand-eyed one was renowned for his carnal appetite. He was also renowned for a certain peculiarity of his anatomy. She probed the recesses of the carving, seeking to ascertain the accuracy of the anatomical depiction, but was distracted by a flurry of activity on the floor of the chamber, some ten or fifteen yards below the ceiling from which she was suspended upside down.
The score or so of assembled rakshasas gathered below looked unhappy and angry. The garish light of the sorcerously illuminated stones set upon the walls at regular intervals did nothing to enhance the fierce monstrosity of their natural unattractiveness. Their furred limbs and tusked faces were richly clad, as befitted the highest clan lords and generals of Lanka, but even from the high shadows in which she was concealed, she could spy a burnt patch in a tunic, a jagged rent in a waistband stitched from priceless tanned human leather, a crack in a polished breastplate carved from the bone of some extinct asura species—almost every one of these proud rakshasas was marked in some fashion or other, testimony to how narrowly they had survived the burning of Lanka and the damage wrought by the rampaging vanar emissary. Supanakha licked her chops in recollection of the night of wanton destruction. Ah, had she known the vanar was possessed of such great powers, she would have focussed her energies more on seducing him at the outset rather than merely deceiving him. What a rampage! Never before had she heard of any creature wreaking such havoc in a rakshasa lair. For that night of unbridled destruction, she could almost forgive him for killing the handsome Akshay Kumar. Watching him expanded to a thousand times his natural size, pounding the great golden-white tower of the Pushpak to smithereens, his lightly furred limbs working with powerful ease, she had been overcome by lust. Even now, she purred silently just to recall the scene. Would that he had wreaked his havoc upon her person. She would have burned more willingly for him than Lanka had!
She was distracted from her self-indulgent fantasies by another outbreak of growls and grunts from the cavern floor below. The generals were growing restless. They had been waiting here a long while, on Ravana’s instructions. And there was neither sign of the lord of Lanka, nor word from him. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Ravana since early this morning either—and that had been barely a glimpse of him riding in the Pushpak with that wretched woman. Her lips curled at the thought of Sita. She didn’t understand why Ravana didn’t just have his way with the woman or else do away with her. At the very least, he could hand her over to Supanakha. There were a few delicious torments she could think of to visit upon that wench …
‘Where is he?’ asked a kumbha-rakshasa loudly. ‘How much longer a
re we to wait around here? There are important decisions to be taken, pressing matters to be seen to. We cannot spend all day waiting here for Lanka-naresh to show himself when he pleases.’
The other clan chiefs echoed his complaints with noises of their own. Some had to see to arming their forces, others to transporting soldiers and supplies to various sites where they were to be stationed, one general had to see to fortifications that had been destroyed by the vanar’s rampaging spree … In moments, the chamber echoed noisily with the complaints of impatient rakshasas. Supanakha watched with amusement as the complaints soon turned to a venting of opinions on the previous day’s disaster and how it could have been prevented— or stopped.
‘Enough,’ said a familiar voice.
The cacophony ended abruptly. The generals and clan chiefs looked around, startled. The voice had been unmistakably Ravana’s, yet the lord of Lanka was nowhere to be seen. One of the chiefs pointed with a taloned claw at a wall of the chamber. A greenish light had begun to glow there. Supanakha moved across the carving to give herself a better view of that part of the cavern.
The greenish glow resolved slowly into an image of the northern shore of Lanka. It was similar to the water-illusion Ravana had conjured up earlier, she realised, projecting the image of a scene occurring in some distant location upon the wall of the cavern. As everyone watched silently, the image sharpened by degrees, until the ocean and the Palisade cliffs encircling the northern end of the island were recognisable. Everything was greatly reduced in scale, in order to fit upon the ten yard wide by five yard high section of the cave wall on which the image was sorcerously projected, but it was clear enough overall to make out the familiar geographical features. It was also clear enough to depict the unfamiliar objects floating in the ocean off the northern shore: enormous sea beasts visible slightly above the surface of the water, arrayed in a continuous line that extended well beyond the periphery of the image projected—to the end of the horizon itself, it seemed. This extraordinary living ‘bridge’ across the ocean, joining Lanka to the northern mainland, was covered with countless tiny creatures, scurrying across it like ants upon a rotted tree trunk. The creatures were coming from the north, across the ocean, and as Supanakha watched with fascinated interest, creeping lower to gain a better view, they reached the end of the bridge and began leaping onto the thin sandy beach that bordered the northern shore. In mere moments, scores of the creatures began pouring upon the beach, spreading out in all directions with astonishing speed.
‘This is Rama’s army,’ said the disembodied voice of Ravana, seeming to issue from nowhere and everywhere at once. ‘They are setting foot upon our shores at this very minute as you can see. Hundreds of thousands of vanars and bears, perhaps even millions—even I do not know how many exactly, and I doubt the mortal himself does!’
Her cousin sounded almost gleeful, Supanakha thought curiously. Instead of being furious at the sight of his enemy arriving and setting foot upon his land with such a vast host, Ravana was amused!
His rakshasa leaders didn’t share his amusement. Several of them were scowling, others grunting and chuffing angrily, a few even snorting nervously and spraying spittle and nasal fluids as they sought to vent their feelings of fear and panic. ‘There are too many, Lord Ravana,’ cried one of these, his boar-like tusks glistening with the fluids he was exuding with nervous haste. ‘How will we combat such large numbers?’
Ravana’s laughter echoed through the chamber. Supanakha started. It sounded as if he was right here beside her, high up on the wall of the cavern—as well as down there, and there … Where was he really? Why was he not showing himself? Those fools were losing their nerve just at the sight of Rama’s army landing on the ‘unassailable’ shores of Lanka. No army had ever invaded the island before. None had even dared try. The very fact that Rama had brought such a vast host to Ravana’s threshold, in the wake of the unprecedented destruction wreaked by his vanar emissary, was enough to make any rakshasa lose some fluids. She was interested in seeing how Ravana calmed his generals long enough for them to listen to his war plan. At least, she assumed he had a war plan.
‘Kambhakhatar,’ Ravana boomed, the rakshasa word for fool echoing around the chamber. And this time, Supanakha felt as if he were addressing her as well, mocking her for daring to doubt his power. She licked her lips: Ravana was wont to deal with any doubters swiftly and brutally. She tensed herself, anticipating that the boar-clan idiot who had questioned his lord would find himself rendered to fat and gristle in a sorcerous flash.
Instead, to her mounting surprise, Ravana responded with more words. Not even angry words at that, but the same amused tone, as if he were speaking to a roomful of children rather than the most powerful rakshasa leaders in all Lanka.
‘Do you really think any of this could have happened without my consent? Do you think that army of bears and baboons could have landed here had I not wished it? Nothing happens in Lanka that I do not permit to happen. Not a blade of grass dares arise from the ground without my willing it. I am Ravana, lord of Lanka. This land is wedded to me as flesh to bone. My asura maya permeates every fibre of this island-nation. I have permitted the mortal Rama to bring his army of monkeys and coons here only so that I may teach him a lesson. A lesson in warcraft. It is a lesson you should heed as well. For in the hours ahead, you will see Lanka restored to the time of its greatest glory. A Lanka that is the supreme purveyor of war and holocaust. Once again, we shall be feared in the three worlds, by every species, every race of living being. We shall crush the mortal Rama and his minions like the insectile hordes that they are, the way a kumbharakshasa’s heel crushes an anthill into the ground without even knowing that the anthill existed, and when we are done, all shall know and fear us once again. For the past several years, you have grown soft and accustomed to luxury and indolence. Peace and prosperity have made fat-bellied dogs of you all. It was good that the vanar came and shook you out of your complacency. Now you are awake and alert. Now you will prepare yourselves and fight like the rakshasas you are, and when this war is over, you will follow me across the ocean to the mortal realm and we shall conquer the nations of Aryavarta.
Once we were halted at Mithila by the use of a celestial weapon that none could resist. Today, after we have killed the mortal who wielded that weapon, we shall have avenged the massacre of our fellow asuras at Mithila, and none will remain to oppose us on our new campaign of conquest. Today, we reclaim Lanka and wipe out Rama and his forces. Tomorrow, we conquer the world!’
After this extraordinary speech, even Supanakha felt like cheering. The clan chiefs gathered in the chamber raised their guttural voices in throaty exuberance, their fear and panic subsumed by the war-lust Ravana’s words had awoken in their warrior breasts. They cheered and roared their approval of his rallying speech.
At last they fell silent again. Finally, as she had known they would, they asked the question she had wanted to ask as well.
‘My lord, what are your orders? How are we to accomplish this victory? Will you not show yourself and lead us to triumph in person?’
In response, Ravana’s voice chuckled softly. ‘My orders for the nonce are that you rest and prepare yourselves for battle on the morrow. We shall convene here again at dawn, and I shall tell you what is to be done next. Meanwhile, tonight, I am already at work, laying the seeds of the victory we shall reap tomorrow. For as you sleep, I shall be at work, turning our island-kingdom into the great unassailable fortress she once was. Tomorrow, when you arise, you shall see for yourself the result of my invocations. You shall awaken to a new Lanka.’
They looked at one another in puzzlement. ‘But, my lord,’ said the leader of the kumbha clans, ‘the enemy has landed on our shores. Should we not make efforts to repel them at least? Left to their own devices, they could encroach upon a great part of our kingdom by the morning. We should immediately lead a foray to push them back into the sea whence they came.’
Again, that amused chuckle. But now
it sounded a trifle impatient, as if Ravana was done talking and explaining himself. Sooner or later, Supanakha knew, that tone of impatience always crept into his voice—or voices, for Ravana had ten tongues in his heads—but it was a matter of surprise to her that he had been so patient so long. ‘They shall not encroach upon a single yard of Lankan ground tonight. And many of them will not live to see the morning light. While all will rue the moment they stepped upon the shores of our land, and shall long for nothing but to return across the ocean whence they came. This will happen even as you sleep tonight. Now, enough has been said. Go and rest yourselves and your forces, and we shall meet again at dawn to face the armies of the invader and reclaim our lost glory.’
They looked at one another, awe and amazement writ large upon their snouted faces. But all knew better than to press their luck further. The next few moments were spent in bowing and scraping and calling out the praises of the great lord of Lanka. Then, one by one, they all filed out of the chamber until Supanakha was left alone once more, with only the flickering green image upon the wall for company. She crept down the wall, peering at the image of the invaders pouring across the bridge still, flooding the northern shore of the island. What had Ravana meant? Even as you sleep tonight? How?
Suddenly, she knew she had to go to the northern cliffs. She would take the caverns, the way she had entered Lanka months earlier, when she had brought with her the means to resurrect her cousin. She would go and see for herself Ravana’s sorcery assailing Rama and his armies by night. It promised to be a massacre worth a ringside seat!
With a flick of her tail, she bounded out of the cavern.
KAAND 2
ONE
The greybacks were too large to come on to the beach itself. The closest one to land had positioned itself in such a manner that the travellers could leap from the end of its back to the edge of the shoreline. It meant a little wading through knee-deep foamy water. Rama watched as the bears leaped easily into the water and waded strongly up the beach, splashing sand and water carelessly. They roared and flailed their arms happily, pleased to have reached their destination at last. The vanars were apprehensive at first, but under their commander’s watchful gaze, they plucked up the courage to jump and waded after the bears, wincing as the water splashed around them and new waves soughed inwards softly. The first bears swept up the first vanars in happy bear hugs, and both species roared and cheekaed their delight at having been the first to reach Lanka. The vanars seemed a little the worse for wear after being hugged so enthusiastically, but soon recovered, coughing and grinning cheerfully enough. Some even splashed around in the shallow water, but that ended once one of them spied crabs scuttling underfoot, causing a mass exodus up to dry sand.
RAMAYANA Part 3_PRINCE AT WAR Page 56