‘Leave him!’ she screamed at the Sanyasis who were holding Indra. Gautama sat without a word, looking far away. Only his trembling lips betrayed the emotion he felt. There were sniggers and chuckles among the Sanyasis. Some looked ashamed, some angry.
‘Leave him alone. It’s my fault, my fault,’ Ahalya broke down. She covered her face in shame.
‘No, it’s my fault,’ Indra said. A Sanyasi smacked the King of Devas across his face. Indra spat the blood and said, ‘I . . . I had disguised as her husband. She mistook me for Gautama.’
There was an astonished silence for a moment. Then the crowd roared in laughter. The difference between the tall, fair and handsome Indra in the prime of his life and the old, frail and shrunken Gautama in his late seventies could not have been more apparent.
‘No, I invited him to my bed,’ Ahalya said with her head erect, ‘Why should not I? I was married against my wish. This old man never wanted a wife but a maid to look after him. I have done that well. I have looked after him, fed him, bathed him, nursed him. But I have my needs too—’
‘Enough, you whore.’ Gautama stood up. He staggered and almost fell down. He steadied himself and pointed his trembling hands at his wife. Ahalya glared back defiantly. The Sanyasis and Brahmacharis drew their breath. A few chuckles could be heard.
‘I curse you,’ Sage Gautama’s voice was shrill. ‘You’re stone-hearted. I curse you to be a stone.’ People waited with bated breath. Nothing happened. Ahalya scoffed.
‘Chain her!’ Gautama roared. A few Sanyasis rushed to Ahalaya and grabbed her. They dragged her to the rock. The crowd pushed and shoved to get a view. A few howled and taunted. ‘Whore, whore, whore,’ the words rose like a chant. As Ahalya was being dragged, her gaze met that of Baali.
‘You cheat. You unfaithful dog. I saved your life and you repay by betraying me, monkey,’ she cried. Baali was shocked. He didn’t understand what she was saying. He watched the Sanyasis drag her and put chains on her. They hammered iron pegs to fasten the chain to the rock. Indra managed to break loose from his captors and rushed to Ahalya. However, the mob soon caught him. He struggled to break free, but they started pummelling him and kicking him. They brought him bleeding and battered to Gautama. Ahalya was already chained to the rock. The crowd waited for Sage Gautama to pass judgement.
‘Castrate him,’ Gautama said. Indra screamed and tried to escape. The crowd had him spread-eagled on the floor. The crowd surged forward, baying for blood.
‘Let all the castes remember that this is the punishment for violating a Brahmin woman. Let everyone know that not even the King of Devas is exempt from the rule of Varna.’ Gautama’s shaky voice rose over the din. Baali was carried by the crowd. Where was Sugreeva? His eyes searched for his brother but he could not see him anywhere. A blood-chilling scream rose from Indra and blood spurted up. A Sanyasi danced with something in his hand as Indra rolled on the floor, writhing in pain. The crowd was in a frenzy. Baali looked at Ahalya who was quietly weeping.
‘Sew the balls of a billy goat on Indra. Let the world know the punishment for immorality,’ Gautama said and the crowd cheered. A billy goat, that was brought for ritual sacrifice, was dragged by a few Brahmacharis. It bleated in fear. The air carried the rusty smell of blood. Dust rose high in the sky. The goat was pressed down by many Sanyasis. It bleated in pain and fear and another cheer went up the sky. A frightened leather worker came with a rusted needle half a foot long. Indra had lost consciousness and was lying on his face in a pool of blood. The Sanyasis kicked him to make him lie on his back. He didn’t move. The shoesmith started sewing the balls of the goat to the king of Devas. The wrath of the Sanyasis was fearsome.
Baali moved to Ahalya. She didn’t raise her head when he reached her.
‘Mother,’ he called her. He had never called her ‘mother’ before. His brother used to call her that. Baali didn’t know why he had addressed her like that. She raised her head and a wave of hatred passed through her face.
‘Why did you do it?’
‘I . . . I didn’t do anything,’ Baali stammered.
‘It could be only you. Your brother is an innocent boy. Only you would be so heartless to inform my husband. Didn’t I feed you? Didn’t I save your life? This is how you repay me?’
‘I . . . I never informed anyone,’ Baali said, trying to hide his frustration. It was unfair of her to accuse him.
‘Get lost. I don’t want to see your face. Get lost, you monkey. Take your accursed brother and go. Only he knew and he would have confided in you. You evil monkey, you took revenge on us. I know. I know.’
‘Lady, I don’t know why’re you accusing me . . . I never–’
‘Get lost. Get lost. I curse you. Let your brother be the cause of your death. I curse you. Let you die as an animal.’
Baali didn’t wait to hear any further. He hurried away. He had to find his brother. He wanted to know how the Sage Gautama knew. He hadn’t told anything to anyone.
Baali found Sugreeva hiding in a cave, not far away from the Ashram. When Baali called out to him, he refused to come out.
‘Come out, you fool!’ Baali bellowed. There was no response. Baali entered into the damp darkness of the cave, calling out his brother’s name. A bat flapped its wings and flew past dangerously close to his head. His voice echoed in the cave. The cave smelt of pigeon-shit, stale urine and moss. Water dripped somewhere inside and the floor was damp and slippery. Baali’s voice echoed in the cave. His eyes were getting adjusted to the greyness of the closed space. A rat scurried away. Baali could see Sugreeva crouching in the corner.
‘There will be snakes, you idiot. Come here,’ Baali’s voice had lost its edge when he saw his cowering brother. Sugreeva slowly got up. He ambled towards Baali but never raised his face. He stood like a chastised child. Baali found his anger melt away. He sighed.
‘I thought it was the right thing to do,’ Sugreeva’s voice was a little louder than a whisper. Baali didn’t reply. They stood without talking, each brother understanding the other without any words exchanged, for a long time. Baali had a hundred questions to ask. He wanted to chastise the foolishness of his younger brother, but he understood this was neither the time nor the place. The boy is worried sick, thought Baali.
‘We have no place here anymore. We have to leave,’ Baali said softly. Sugreeva nodded. Baali turned and walked out. It was already dark. He paused for Sugreeva to catch-up with him. He heard his brother stand still a few feet behind. Without a word, Baali started walking towards the river. Night had already fallen in the jungle.
Chapter 4
Baali and Sugreeva continued to walk through the thick jungle. Sugreeva wished the moon was brighter. He was scared of the forest. He saw his brother walking confidently and wished he had the same assurance, the same raw courage. The forest looked gloomy and brooding around him. It seemed as if unknown and unthinkable perils hid in the shadows. They were waiting for a chance, Sugreeva thought. Even the sound of dry leaves crunching under their own feet made him jittery.
‘Brother, Brother, where are we going?’ Sugreeva asked.
‘To freedom,’ Baali replied and continued to walk.
How will they eat? Who will look after them? What if some Asuras or Rakshasa attacked? What if they met a hungry tiger? Sugreeva was full of fear and doubts. Maybe his brother was taking him to some unknown relatives among the Vanara tribe. ‘Vana Nara’, he corrected himself. He was feeling tired and hungry. He should have listened to his brother, he thought ruefully. His brother was angry with him. Though he didn’t say any harsh words, Sugreeva could sense the anger. He had betrayed his brother. He had betrayed his trust. He felt guilty.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sugreeva whispered. His brother seemed not to hear. He was peering at something on the ground. The dull moonlight had drawn curious patterns on the forest floor. The ground was carpeted with rotten leaves. There could be snakes. Every hair on Sugreeva’s body stood up. He grabbed Baali’s hand.
‘Did
you say something?’ Baali asked.
Sugreeva shook his head. Baali knelt down and scooped something from the forest floor. He smelt it. Sugreeva watched Baali’s face lining with worry and felt fear creeping up his toes from the damp ground.
‘Wh . . . what is it?’
Baali gestured him to be silent. He started retracing his path, making Sugreeva turn and walk ahead of him. Sugreeva felt his mouth going dry. Baali was shoving him to walk faster. A twig snapped under his feet. They froze. Something rustled up in the trees. Baali looked up. Sugreeva could not see anything. Vines the size of a full-grown man’s body entwined the branches and vanished into the thick-leafed branches. Moon light filtered through the canopy and made the branches look scaled like the body of a python. Was something hiding there?
‘Run!’ Baali screamed and shoved Sugreeva. The forest exploded with a flutter of wings. Sugreeva took off, tripping against the undergrowth, getting up, smashing against trees and falling back. He didn’t understand what was happening. A whoosh of air almost knocked him down. Then he saw it. Snapping the branches of trees and sending leaves swirling down, a huge eagle arose in the sky. In its talon, it had Baali and it was flying away with his brother. As it rose higher, Sugreeva broke into a clearing. He saw Baali flailing his limbs, trying to get free. The size of the bird shocked Sugreeva. He ran behind it, screaming in terror. By the time he could gather his wits, the eagle was a speck in the sky. He picked up rocks and tried throwing them at the bird which was speeding away, but his projectiles fell woefully short. He watched helplessly as the eagle and his struggling brother appeared frozen against the dull moon for a moment. Then the bird took off, vanishing beyond the western mountains. Sugreeva fell on his knees and wept. He had brought this fate to his brother. He should not have informed his foster father Sage Gautama of his wife’s infidelity. He should have listened to his brother. He had struggled with his conscience and had decided that he should tell Sage Gautama about Ahalya and Indra. He had thought the Sage would reward him. Instead, the sage ordered his disciples to kill him. He had run away and hid in the cave. He hadn’t had enough time to even inform his brother.
Until now, he was afraid the Sanyasis would catch him and kill him. When his brother said they should run away, he had agreed thinking they would be safe away from the Ashram. He was always scared of the jungle for he had heard about the fantastic beasts, Rakshasa and Asuras who were rumoured to be living in it. His worst fear had come true today. He had to find his brother somehow. He might already be dead, might have become food to the giant eagle. He had to do something. Sugreeva ran, calling out his brother’s name through the meadow. He didn’t know in which direction he had to go. The mountain where the eagle had taken Baali loomed to his west. There was a thick jungle and perhaps a few mountain streams to cross. If at all he managed to reach there, Sugreeva realised it would be too late. I have lost my brother for ever. It’s my fault. He was the only friend and relative I had in the world. Now I’m truly an orphan.
There was a distant rumbling of thunder. A wave of cold breeze swept the grassland and made Sugreeva shiver. I have to do something. My brother might be dead by now. Sugreeva started running towards the mountain where the bird had taken his brother. He tried to brush away the thoughts of poisonous snakes that might be lurking in the grass behind. He told himself that the distant roar of the tiger that he heard was not really that. ‘That is just thunder, that is just thunder,’ he whispered to himself as he continued to run. A bolt of lightning cracked a few feet before him, blinding him. He fell down as the splitting thunder boomed. He picked himself up and ran. The grass had caught fire. He ran diagonally, away from the spreading grass fire. Another bolt of lightning struck somewhere behind him followed by another loud crack of thunder. Wind carried the smell of burning grass. Without any warning, it started to rain.
Sugreeva ran through the grassland. Rain pelted on his face. In the next flash of lightning, he saw it clearly. The bird was back again. After killing his brother, it was coming for him. It was swooping down fast. In the lightning, its talons shone like daggers. He ran for his life, jumping over puddles, slipping in the mushy grass, getting up and sliding half the way. He reached the heavily wooded area and heard the bird screeching high in the air. He stood leaning on a tree, panting and puffing, trying to catch his breath. The forest was brooding and silent around him. Lightning lit up the thickly wooded forest in an eerie blue light. ‘The bird can’t reach here. The bird can’t reach here,’ he realised that he was saying this out loud. He cried in relief. ‘I’m safe. I’m alive.’ Then he remembered that the bird had caught his brother from just such a wooded area. He looked up fearfully. Nothing. He sighed. The bird had gone.
Sugreeva stood drenched in rain, looking at the sky swirling with dark clouds. Should he go in search of his brother? Why had the bird come back for him? Did it mean Baali had escaped or had the bird eaten his brother and come back for more food? Sugreeva sat down and sobbed. I’m all alone in the world. My fault, my fault. Somewhere deep inside, he was feeling happy that it was Baali and not him who had died. He fought the thought with all his might. He was supposed to feel sad. His brother was dead. ‘My fault, my fault,’ he kept mumbling.
Sugreeva was thrown aback by a loud crash. A branch had broken and fallen down. It had missed him by a whisker. He stared at it with dull fear. A blood-curdling screech reverberated in the air and he froze in terror. The bird dove in, with its talons pointing at him. Its wings caught in a branch and for a moment, it stood hanging in the air, his cruel eyes looking at the boy. The branch snapped and it fell down with a crash. Sugreeva took off, not waiting to see whether the bird was following him. He didn’t know how long he ran. The screech of the bird from the sky urged him on. The bird tried to attack him whenever there was a small gap in the forest canopy. Before he knew, he was blinded by searing pain. He thought that the bird had caught him, but the bird was still flying low, above the unusually thin canopy of the bush. Then he understood the cause of his pain. He was running through a jungle of thorny shrubs. The pain was excruciating but the fear could overcome any pain at this point. The bird was keeping away respecting the sharpness of the thorns.
Sugreeva thought he saw some men huddled ahead, crouched under the bush. He was not sure whether he was hallucinating. He had lost too much blood. It was an unending nightmare. He fell down before a huge man.
‘My . . . my brother is dead,’ Sugreeva said, his voice breaking in terror and exhaustion. The bird circled above, screeching and flapping its huge wings.
He saw there were hundreds of black men, rugged and wild-looking. They looked at the boy and the bird circling above the thorny jungle.
‘Jatayu . . . the boy survived Jatayu’s attack.’
Sugreeva heard them whispering. He saw more people crawling towards him. They were speaking his tongue. The Vana Nara tongue. He had reached his people. He had cheated death. He was safe. And his brother was dead. He started crying inconsolably as the people surrounded him. He was expecting them to help him. Instead they started yelling at him. They wanted him dead. A couple of men grabbed him and started dragging him out of the protective bush.
Chapter 5
As Baali was being carried away, he saw his brother chasing the eagle. He had screamed, asking him to run away. He didn’t want his brother to be in any danger. As he was struggling high in the sky, he had seen his brother stopping his chase in the grasslands. He had seen him like a dot amid the swaying grass when the lightning stuck. He had seen him safe and Baali felt relieved. Sugreeva would survive. His sacrifice wouldn’t go to waste. Then, sinking all hopes, he had seen the second bird. As big as the one that was carrying him, it flew past them. It seemed both the birds exchanged some communication. There was a pattern to their screeching. Baali saw the bird was flying towards where his brother was standing. He could not afford to die. He had to fight back, kill this bird and go back to save his younger brother. He didn’t know how, but he had to do it.
The bird had pinned him down on the rock. At any moment it would tear him apart with its sharp beak. His frantic hands searched to grab a rock, a sharp bone, anything that could be used to hit the legs of the bird. He found a rotten rib bone of some beast the bird had devoured. With all his strength, Baali thrust the bone into the foot of the bird. There was a loud screech and the bird pulled its leg. Baali rolled away and stood on his feet. The bird turned towards him and tried to peck him with its sharp beaks. Baali side stepped it and attempted to pierce the eagle’s eyes. The bird caught the bone and snapped it into two. Baali staggered. In panic, he didn’t know where to run. The bird pounced on him, knocking him down. It pecked his shoulders and a searing pain shot through his body. The flowing water carried him to the edge of the cliff. He somehow managed to hold on to a cleft in the rock. The bird hopped to the rock and snapped to rip off his head. The slippery rock spoilt its aim. Baali saw the rock he was holding break into splinters. He screamed in terror, imagining his head splintering like that. The water was pushing him down and his hands were slipping away. In the lightning, he saw that he was a few feet away from the precipitous drop of the cliff. Water flowed over him, chocking him, drowning him. It disappeared with a roar into the darkness beyond the cliff. He struggled to stand up but lost balance. The eagle’s next peck missed him by a hair’s breadth. He fell down and was carried towards the precipice. He gripped a protruding rock and leaned on it. Something prodded his waist—the Arani twigs. He was not sure what he would do with them. In the rain, it was impossible to use them. The only way he could hope to survive was with fire. He needed fire, now. A blinding lightning strike was followed by thunder.
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