‘Enough,’ Bhutaraya said, raising his palm. ‘I have heard these arguments of patriots a hundred times. Let me fill you in, slave.’
Bhutaraya turned to his men and started imitating what he thought was the accent of a city-bred gentleman. ‘I hate anyone who talks ill about our country. Our culture is the best.’ Bhutaraya’s followers laughed. The leader of the Vaithalikas continued, ‘There is no place like this in the world.’
Another round of laughter. Bhutaraya moved his staff from his right to his left hand and continued in his mock accent, ‘Ohhhh, there are problems in this country? Why—is this the only country with problems? You always say bad things about our country. Traitors, all are traitors except me and those who agree with me. Why don’t you talk about the barbarians? What about the chink-eyed Cheenadesis? What about those who eat horses or those who eat pigs or those who eat sparrows or those who eat snakes? Why don’t we talk about them? What about the tribes who eat humans? Why don’t you talk about the Kalakeyas? Why are you silent about the Kuntala kingdom? Do you know how bad the situation is in Kadarimandalam?’
The Vaithalikas were now laughing uproariously. Even Shivappa was smiling. Kattappa fumed, largely because he found some truth in the biting mockery of Bhutaraya. He tried to say something, but the Vaithalika king leaned towards him. The smile was gone and his eyes flashed.
Jabbing Kattappa’s chest with his index finger, Bhutaraya said, ‘Blah, blah, blah. Chatter, chatter and more chatter. Shut your eyes and live in a fool’s paradise. Close your nose so that the stench does not trouble you. Close your mouth, so that you don’t gag. Open it only to praise your ruler. And call all those who are not blind traitors.’
Bhutaraya stared at him till Kattappa looked away. The Vaithalika king clapped his hands and four men came to stand at the four corners of Kattappa’s cot. They lifted the cot on their shoulders and started running. Kattappa screamed, but his voice was drowned by the yells and shouts of the Vaithalikas.
After almost an hour, they stopped at the edge of a clearing. Above them, Gauriparvat towered as a sheer cliff. The air was humid and the breeze carried droplets of water. There was an unbearable stink. They had disturbed a few foxes that ran away with something in their mouths. Kattappa had to shout above the roar of the Patalaganga falls to Bhutaraya who stood beside him with his arms crossed across his broad chest.
‘Where have you brought me?’ he said, wrinkling his nose. The stink was awful.
‘To a place that will open your eyes. Look around.’
‘What?’ Kattappa asked, scanning the grim faces of the Vaithalika warriors, who were standing with their noses covered with their palms. Kattappa saw only creepers thick as a man’s arm winding over towering, fern-covered trees. The smell became unbearable as they reached the clearing.
‘Those are rejected assets, Kattappa. They have served their use and have now been disposed of. But this is nothing compared to what happens after Mahamakam.’ Bhutaraya pointed at a pile a few hundred feet away. Crows were fighting over the carcasses. Some tiger kills? Kattappa squinted to have a clear view in the slanting sunlight. Rats scampered over the carrions. He looked carefully. Till the far end of the clearing, until the shore of the roaring river, some rotten things were strewn. Dead animals? He tried not to throw up.
Kattappa did not understand. He was about to snap at Bhutaraya, when something fell from the cliff and crashed through the trees. It landed a few feet away from Kattappa’s cot. Before he could scream, another one fell and soon another with a dull thud. A group of jackals darted from the bush to fight for them. The scream died in Kattappa’s throat when he stared at the mutilated bodies of three young boys.
TWENTY-THREE
Sivagami
Revamma dragged Sivagami and Gundu Ramu to the central courtyard. The boys Sivagami had beaten up pushed and shoved them. Thondaka ran ahead of them, waving her book for everyone to see. He cried, ‘The black magic book of the witch. Witchcraft manual. This is how she got the strength to beat even men. Witch, witch, rakshasi.’
Keki followed as Revamma dragged Sivagami by her wrist. The eunuch tapped Sivagami’s shoulder and whispered, ‘You cooperate with me and I shall get your book returned.’ Sivagami’s face was impassive. She would not show her panic, she would not let the eunuch know how much the book meant to her. Let them think it was a book of witchcraft, Sivagami thought.
Revamma called for the cane. Thondaka ran to get it. He handed it over and sat on the veranda, surrounded by his cronies, to watch the fun. Keki stood in a corner, silently watching them. Sivagami avoided looking at her.
Sivagami debated whether to resist or fight against the punishment, and finally decided that it would be better not to exacerbate the matter. Revamma circled them with the cane in hand. Sivagami was scared about what would happen to the book. If Thondaka did something to her father’s book she decided she would kill him. She was startled from her thoughts by the loud howl of Gundu Ramu. He had started screaming his head off before Revamma had even touched him with her cane. She swished the cane and Gundu Ramu ran, sobbing loudly.
Much to the laughter and merriment of the inmates, Gundu Ramu made Revamma run around the entire courtyard. Finally, when Revamma could not run any more because of her huge bulk, Thondaka caught Gundu Ramu and handed him over to her.
Revamma started venting her anger on Gundu Ramu. Sivagami’s heart broke on seeing the boy getting caned. She should not have dragged Gundu Ramu into the matter. She had to save him from further punishment. ‘Enough of punishing the child, you mad woman,’ Sivagami cried. It was intended to provoke, and it succeeded. Revamma came to her, raging like a wild bull.
She beat Sivagami until the cane broke, but it was Gundu Ramu who cried seeing his akka getting punished. She wished he would keep quiet and not draw Revamma’s attention to him, but the boy kept howling loudly. He cursed Revamma, saying an elephant would stomp her to death and a bull would gore her for her sins. The other inmates laughed at each of his comments until Thondaka came and slapped Gundu Ramu across his face. The boy cowered with fear and stopped his tirade, but continued to sob quietly as he watched Sivagami take her punishment stoically. Finally, Revamma left after instructing Thondaka to tie both of them to a pillar and took the book with her. Thondaka quickly set about doing her bidding.
‘How about giving this book to me?’ Keki asked, stopping Revamma.
‘Why would I?’ Revamma asked her suspiciously. Sivagami willed herself to look away. Her heart was beating uncontrollably.
‘Maybe you could get a good price from me,’ Keki said.
‘Maybe I could take it to some official and get an even better price, or perhaps a reward, for exposing a witch,’ Revamma said.
‘Suit yourself,’ Keki smiled. Revamma walked away with the book. Sivagami sighed with relief. She did not know whether the eunuch knew the importance of the book, but it would have been difficult to get the book back from her.
Keki approached them and stood before Sivagami. ‘Girl, what is in that book? Your face betrays its importance for you.’
So she does not know, Sivagami thought with relief. The eunuch was just trying her luck. ‘Witchcraft. I am a witch,’ Sivagami threw her head back and laughed at Keki. The eunuch scowled at her.
‘Tell me the truth and I can save you. Is it about some hidden treasure?’ Keki asked.
‘It is about making a man out of a eunuch,’ Sivagami laughed. The eunuch’s lips curved into a grimace, but her eyes did not smile.
Keki ran her index finger along the contours of Sivagami’s face. ‘Such a sweet face and such sharp words.’ Sivagami flinched at the contact. Keki grabbed Sivagami’s chin and hissed, ‘Laugh all you want, girl. You’ll never see your precious book again. It will be seized by the officials tomorrow and you will be thrown in jail. When the guards rape you, you will be remembering Keki akka’s offer of help.’
Sivagami thought of retorting but restrained herself. She should not act too concerned and make
the eunuch suspect more. She stood looking into the distance, ignoring the eunuch. Finally, Keki left them.
When it was just the two of them, tied to the pillar for the night, Gundu Ramu started weeping again. Sivagami snapped at him to keep his mouth shut and the boy replied that, if he kept his mouth closed, how would he cry aloud, making Sivagami laugh.
Sivagami laughed so much there were tears in her eyes. It was only when she felt a burning sensation searing into her thighs that she understood Revamma had sneaked up from behind with a hot iron. The pain shut her mouth and blocked the tears. Gundu Ramu, meanwhile, continued to howl in pain until he slipped into a whimpering half-sleep. Hunger pangs kept Sivagami awake till the moon had disappeared behind the slants of the roof. She wished Kamakshi would sneak in with some food, but she was sure they must have locked her in their room.
She woke up dripping wet. With great difficulty, she opened her eyes. Thondaka was standing in front of her with a pail of water. She was still tied to the pillar and her limbs ached. Thondaka moved to Gundu Ramu and splashed the rest of the water on his face. Gundu Ramu woke up whimpering. As Thondaka untied them, Sivagami stood watching the water pooling around her toes. The faded blue of her skirt had spots of the pale rust colour of her blood. A shaft of sunlight fell on her face. The sun had risen over the roofs and was peeping into the courtyard. A crow cawed outside. From the kitchen came the sounds of vessels clattering against each other.
Revamma came up and sat in the courtyard chair. Her mouth was full of betel leaves. She spat a stream of red that splashed near Sivagami’s feet. Sivagami raised her head and glared at her.
‘Ammamamama, see her eyes. Kali.’ Revamma gargled to clear her throat and spat again. A speck of chewed betel leaf fell on Sivagami’s toes and she cringed. Revamma stood up from the chair and waddled towards her. Sivagami saw her father’s book in her hand.
‘What sort of book is this?’ she asked, waving it in front of Sivagami. ‘What is this language? What is written in this? I am sure it has something to do with your father’s treason.’
Sivagami did not reply.
‘It might be some sort of black magic,’ suggested Thondaka.
Revamma eyed the book suspiciously.
‘She is a witch,’ Thondaka said. ‘Strange incidents are happening these days. Last night she was howling like a wolf. Some say she actually turned herself into a wolf. I think she can become whatever she wishes.’
‘Howling? How come I did not hear that?’ Revamma asked.
‘You were drunk,’ Thondaka said and was slapped by Revamma for his impertinence. He retreated, covering his cheek with his hand. Sivagami snorted and he glared back at her over his shoulders. She let her derisive smile stay on her lips. Let him get mad.
‘Girl, look here,’ Revamma said. ‘Either you tell me what this is or I am taking it to the officials. One last time, what is this?’
Sivagami refused to answer her or look at her face. She watched the clouds racing against each other in the rectangular slice of sky wedged between the roofs of the courtyard. She looked at the patterns of the tiles sloping inwards. She gazed at a dragonfly that was buzzing near the tulsi plant. She tried to count the number of beads in the garland around the idol’s neck.
‘Fine, I have had enough of your arrogance. Change your rags fast. I am going to report this. Ayyo, what sort of devil is this girl? Why are you standing like a cow? Hurry up.’
Sivagami walked into the kitchen where she kept her spare clothes. Her head was in a whirl. How could she get the book out of the woman’s hands? Just then she heard Gundu Ramu screaming and looked back.
Revamma was beating him with both her hands on his plump back. ‘How dare you ask for food again? Shani! Bakasur! You ate all the food yesterday.’
Gundu Ramu came running to Sivagami. ‘That lady is a witch,’ he said, gasping for breath.
Sivagami took his hands in hers. ‘No, she is not the witch. I am,’ she said, and laughed on seeing Gundu Ramu’s eyes widen.
It was past noon by the time Revamma dragged Sivagami and Gundu Ramu to the palace. Sivagami was feeling hungry and she could not even imagine what Gundu Ramu must have been going through. At the palace, a few soldiers tried to make fun of Revamma and were shut up promptly by her acid tongue. She stopped to complain to every maid, every servant, about the wards she had to take care of. Sivagami seethed with humiliation. She felt like an animal being led to the cattle market.
They were denied entry into Mahapradhana Parameswara’s office, and when they tried to meet Roopaka, a clerk came out to send them away. Revamma’s mood grew grimmer. She was sweating profusely, and every time she lifted her arms to wipe sweat off her face, she gave off a smell like a pig sty. The palace of Mahishmathi was not designed for the likes of her. She sat down on the granite steps, cursing her bad luck, panting and puffing. If this continued for some more time, Sivagami was afraid she would start feeling pity for the fat woman. Revamma had kept Sivagami’s book inside her blouse, close to her bosom, and every time she took it out, Sivagami’s heart sank. The book with her father’s handwriting was stained with the woman’s sweat.
Gundu Ramu made faces behind Revamma’s back, and if he caught Sivagami’s eyes, he caressed his tummy and made a pleading face. When they passed by the royal kitchen, the smell of frying fish and spices made even Sivagami’s mouth water, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Gundu Ramu. A cat sat by the waste pit, crunching fish bones in its mouth. Gundu Ramu paused to look at it enviously and moved on only when Revamma yelled at him.
Sivagami saw that they were making their way to an office by the southern rampart, before which a crowd was waiting patiently. Revamma puffed and panted her way down the garden path towards the office. Sivagami and Gundu Ramu followed. The granite steps had grown hot in the sun, but when Sivagami tried to step on the sand, she found it even hotter. Revamma cursed the sun, cursed her life, cursed a mynah that hopped across her path, and ambled forward like an elephant.
When they reached the office, Sivagami read the carved sign-stone—Upapradhana Skandadasa. For the deputy prime minister of Mahishmathi, his office was modest. A single-storey building with a sloping stone roof. The only things that looked royal were the carved pillars that ran round the veranda. There was an earthen pot placed on a stool by the steps and a mug balanced over the rim of its narrow mouth. Peasants were standing or sitting near the banyan tree in the courtyard. A few scribes sat cross-legged under the tree with pots of inks and stencils arranged around their writing tables. Heaps of palm leaves lay scattered around them. Some were waiting for clients, while a few scribbled petitions for the illiterate peasants sitting on their haunches before them. Two guards stood at the entrance, with expressions that proclaimed their boredom with life. A horsecart stood in the shade by the wall.
Revamma was allowed inside by the guards when she said she was a government servant in charge of the royal orphanage. She took the book out from inside her blouse and started climbing the steps, clutching her knees and thighs after every step she took.
They waited by the door as the upapradhana instructed a clerk to reduce the taxes of a peasant. The clerk was arguing with him, and Sivagami was taken aback by how boldly a subordinate was talking to the deputy prime minister. A few moments passed, and finally they were ushered in. The peasant was touching an embarrassed Skandadasa’s feet, while the clerk looked on with a scornful smile. The peasant left with many bows, and Sivagami could hear his excited voice breaking the happy news to his fellow-villagers outside. The call of ‘Upapradhana Skandadasa—jai, jai!’ could be heard, and Skandadasa sent the clerk out to calm them down.
The upapradhana asked them to sit. Sivagami could see that Revamma had not expected such courtesies and was rather shocked. No one had even allowed them in, and here was the deputy prime minister of the country asking them to sit.
‘No, swami, I shall stand,’ she said, folding her hands together.
‘Amma, you are elder to me. Pl
ease sit; otherwise I will be forced to stand and talk,’ he said, pointing to a chair across from his.
‘Swami, I am a petty official. I cannot sit before the upapradhana,’ she insisted, and suddenly shouted, ‘Get up, you idiot.’
Sivagami was horrified and the upapradhana was taken aback. He stood up from his seat—and then he started laughing. Sivagami saw that Gundu Ramu had settled himself comfortably in a chair. Revamma lifted Gundu Ramu by his ears.
‘Easy, easy, amma. He is but a small boy.’
‘Ayyo, swami. Does he look small to you? Fat swine.’
‘How old are you, boy?’ Skandadasa asked Gundu Ramu.
‘Old enough for mischief, swami,’ Revamma interjected. ‘Maybe ten or even twelve… Who knows and who cares. Does he act like a boy? He is a devil. Satan. And so is she,’ she said, pointing to Sivagami.
‘What is their crime?’Skandadasa asked, gesturing for Revamma to sit. She squeezed herself in a chair, ignoring its squeaky protest, and started narrating their crimes, counting them off on her stubby fingers. Going by the invented and exaggerated crimes, she was sure to run out of fingers soon.
Sivagami liked Skandadasa’s easy smile. Would he have known her father? She wondered how he would react if she told him she was the daughter of Devaraya.
As Revamma blabbered on, Sivagami’s gaze roamed around the room. There was a shelf with manuscripts. A partially open door hid a private room where she could spot a cot. An arched window with a few broken shutters opened onto a narrow path. Beyond the path, the fort wall towered. A banana grove stood near the window, the green leaves gently swaying in the breeze. A bust of Maharaja Somadeva stood on a desk behind the upapradhana. Sivagami could see the tail of a lizard twitching near the bust. There was a pile of palm leaves neatly arranged on the desk, and the royal seal lay near it. A lamp burnt near a container of red lac. Sivagami was tempted to take the seal, dip it in lac, and stamp it on something. The seal held power.
The Rise of Sivagami : Book 1 of Baahubali - Before the Beginning Page 23
