Asura- Tale of the Vanquished

by Anand Neelakantan

  Finally, by late afternoon, we had taken the citadel and the search was onto find my brother, Kumbakarna. I bled from a thousand cuts and sat dizzily on my horse. The place was eerily silent except for the groans and gasps of the dying men and beasts. We had become used to the stench of blood, so it did not bother us anymore. I saw Prahastha and Maricha and rode towards them. Maricha smiled, but Prahastha made me a curt bow and continued with his work of ordering the search parties. Suddenly, Maricha turned and said, “It was Prahastha’s idea to take the fort from the west side. He had an ally inside the fort who opened the gate for us, and as soon as the battle started, we moved west. In fact, Prahastha had positioned many on the west side before the battle had even started.”

  I seethed with anger. I had been made to fight like a common soldier and my ministers had used me as part of their diversionary tactics. I was angry that I had not thought of the plan myself. Instead the thousand things that could have gone wrong occupied my mind. It was then that a big cheer arouse from the western end of the fort and I saw a group of soldiers dancing and carrying a huge man on their shoulders. As the sun was setting, I had difficulty seeing who they carried, though I guessed. As they drew near, I saw an almost-comatose Kumbakarna bouncing on the black shoulders of our men. It was comical. I smiled and turned to Maricha. He beamed. Prahastha stood beside him with his habitual, stern expression. I wanted to ask him why he had kept me in the dark and my anger came rushing back. I was about to ask when Maricha caught my eyes and hurriedly whispered in my ear, “We suspected there were moles among us. I wanted to inform you but Prahastha insisted you should not know. He reasoned that you would not otherwise give your best while leading the battle and the enemy would have suspected our ruse. So we left you to fight a brave battle, while we sneaked in from the rear.”

  I felt cheated. I felt small and manipulated. ‘I was the King and these geriatricsse geria were playing tricks on me.’ I wanted to yell at the old men and just as I was about to spell out what I thought of them, Prahastha turned his head towards me and smiled. Maricha also smiled.

  “We won, Ravana, we won. If it wasn’t for a great fight, we would never have done it.” he said more loudly than necessary.

  And our entire army cheered. Wave by wave, our soldiers raised their weapons and cried, ‘Har Har Mahadev.” “Victory to Shiva.” “Victory to Ravana, the mighty king of Asuras.” “Victory to Asuras.”

  My heart leapt with pride. I did not know what to do and also raised my sword. My army cried out with an electrifying voice. Suddenly I remembered, ‘I owe these two oldies something big.’ But then I felt my resentment rising again and changed my mind and asked, “Uncle, where’s the spy in Yama’s camp who helped us?” I ignored his eyes that were widening in surprise. I had taken off my diamond necklace and said, “I wish to reward him.”

  “Ravana, are you mad?”

  My irritation rose. “Either you tell me, or I find him myself.” I demanded.

  Maricha shook his head sadly and said, “Ravana, sometimes you surprise me. He was the first person Prahastha thrust his sword into as soon as we stormed the fort.”

  Seeing the shock on my face, he added, “Ravana, it is a fundamental lesson of politics. Never trust a traitor, even if he has done the dirty work for you. Tomorrow he may turn against you.” After a pause, he added, “Anyway, don’t worry about such things. We have won the war, though Yama has fled, and your brother is safe.”

  I now felt like an idiot, clutching my diamond necklace in my hand. I wanted to dispose of it before Prahastha turned his head and saw it in my hand. I would not be able to withstand his condescending smile. So I looked around and saw a soldier sitting with his back supported by the fort wall and legs spread apart. He was panting and puffing and looked hideous with a portion of his nose cut off. He bled from many wounds and I felt a surge of pity for him. This fellow had suffered for me; he had almost laid down his life.

  I beckoned. For a few seconds he blinked uncomprehendingly. Then, a look of sheer terror crossed his face. He tried to get up but collapsed. Then he crawled towards me. I felt disgusted. He crawled to me like a wounded dog. I looked at the diamond necklace. It was far too precious for a dreg like this. So I fumbled with my pearl necklace, looked at it with some regret, but before I could change my mind, I threw it at the crouching figure. It fell a few feet short. The man blinked like an owl, unable to comprehend what had fallen in front of him. Then he grabbed it and smelt it like a monkey. ‘The man does not appreciate my gift. How dare he?’ Then it entered his slow mind and he looked at me with shock and with what, at first, I feared was contempt. But then, with elaborate courtesy and a show of gratitude, he bowed to me and kissed the ground. I saw his body shivering and was afraid he was going to die. I watched fascinated. Slowly he raised his head and wi

  th tears rolling down his cheeks, he smiled at me. His two front teeth were missing and he looked grotesque. I felt repulsed, but a nagging thought told me that I knew this beggar. I wanted to take a closer look. I prodded my horse to move a few feet closer to the prone figure. Bhadra! ‘Why does this blasted man intrude into my life always?’ I wanted to snatch back the necklace and give the ugly face a kick and whip his black hideis black. Then his expression of gratitude when he received the gift came to mind and I calmed down. ‘It is alright,’ I pacified myself. He too, deserves little prizes. I felt happy and content that I had done something right.

  Later, when the party was over and we had retired to rest, when I was drifting in and out of sleep, it was not Bhadra’s grateful face that I remembered. I recalled instead, the look of utter contempt when he had first touched my gift. Tossing restlessly, I forced my mind away from dark, ugly, Asura faces, towards dreams of glory, ambition and the gold-paved paths of my destiny.

  32 Patriot

  Bhadra

  We had returned from the mainland. Ravana had threatened to finish off Vidyutjihva and his cohorts, who were busy looting the country. Alarmed, Vidyutjihva brokered a peace, offering all of India, which Ravana himself had conquered, except the southern parts of Lanka, which he wanted for himself. Ravana wanted to take back the entire kingdom, but Soorpanakha’s wishes stopped our King in his tracks. While both sides wined, dined and negotiated, the people on the street fought for food, water, medicines, or simply turned over and died.

  Soon the dreaded summons came. I searched for the pearl necklace in the small box where I thought I had put it. ‘Where was it?’ I had thrown it on the floor as soon as I had dragged myself to my bed at the camp that day. Now, if the king saw me without it, he could think I had not valued his gift, which truthfully I had not. I searched everywhere and then with sudden inspiration, I searched my roommate’s box. He was a foul-smelling Asura, who piously bowed to a small Shiva lingam thrice a day and always quoted from long-forgotten scriptures on morality, truth, life, and other useless themes. He had gone out and I yanked out his box from under his bed and prised it open. I found the necklace, tucked away and wrapped inside his clothes. I cursed and kicked the box to one side before taking the necklace out. I put it on and looked in the hand mirror, which was one of my precious possessions, to see how presentable I appeared. With a part of my nose cut off, a deep scar running over my left cheek, and one and a half ears, I looked hideous. I grinned and the gap made by two missing front teeth, gave me a funny yet macabre appearance.

  With an effort, I pulled myself up from the bed where I was sitting, combed my hair with my fingers, and walked to the Council camp. I entered and bowed as low as possible – a few inches more and I would have touched the floor. Inside it was dark and odorous. The usual thugs were there – Prahastha, with his stern, impassive face; Maricha, with his sly smile; Ravana, looking disgusted to have to deal with scum like me; Jambumali, with his fuzzy, clerical looks; Kumbakarna, with good-natured curiosity; Rudraka with contemptuous scorn; and Vibhishna, the pious rascal, busy saving the world with his mumbo jumbo, with his eyes closed in contemplation.

  “Bha
dra,” It was the kind voice of Maricha. “Once again, the entire race of Asuras is depending on you. Your country and your King need. . .” He rambled on. It would have been better had he just told me what filthy job they wanted me for. All this talk of patriotism and race got on my nerves but I did not dare voice my contempt. Like most of my countrymen, especially the black-skinned, low-living, simple-minded, illiterate, and innocent millions, I too had learnt the art of appearing submissive, peaceful, and the obedient servant of the rulers, when actually a million mutinies seethed within me.

  It took me some time to understand I had been designated the task of finishing off Vidyutjihva. My heart leapt with joy. I had perhaps judged the Council too harshly and quickly. This was a god-given opportunity. I bowed low and walked out without turning to show my back.

  I had to wait till it was dark. The mission was exciting and dangerous. To get into the fort on the sly and assassinate Vidyutjihva, was no mean task. But my personal hatred for the man and my ambition to do something worthwhile, prodded me on. As soon as I returned from the Council, I took my dagger from its sheath and examined its sharpness. Then I searched my sack for the ingredients to make a poisonous potion. I arranged the seven herbs I needed in a straight line, then mixed and ground them in various proportions to make it deadly. Carefully, I rubbed the potion onto the blade. Then, taking a small, thin cloth, I dipped it in the poison and wrapped it over the dagger. The rest of the potion I buried in one corner. Then, stripped to my loin cloth, I put off the oil lamp and poured the oil that was left in the lamp all over my body and left for the fort. Strangely enough, it was not thoughts of death or danger that engrossed me, but that I looked hideous.

  I had chosen the darkest hour before dawn for my mission and left the camp three hours before sunrise and waited near the rear gate. Two guards slept in position, but another, who looked boyish, eagerly marched up and down with his spear. He might have been a new recruit, full of enthusiasm to please his boss. I sneaked past him and tried to steal the keys to the rear fort gate, which were hanging from a ring on the waistcloth of one of the sleeping guards. As I fumbled in the darkness, my hands slipped and the key ring fell with a clang. I froze. The sleeping guard stirred but did not wake. I quickly moved back into the deep shadows thrown by the huge pillars of the gate. The boy was standing a few feet away, looking intently into the darkness where I had vanished. I held my breath. Tentatively he moved a few paces towards me and then stopped. He seemed to be in a dilemma, whether to wake his superiors or to investigate the noise himself. After what seemed like hours, he slowly moved towards me, trying to adjust his vision to the darkness. I had only a fraction of a second to act. I pounced on him with my dagger drawn and before he could react, I had plunged my dagger deep into the hollow of his throat. He fell silently to the ground.

  I turned back fast and faced the other two guards, who were now awake, my dagger dripping blood. One of the guards blinked at me like a fish, a scream caught in his throat. I walked towards him and quietly slit his throat. The third one, who seemed to be the most experienced, reached for his sword. I pounced on him, but he was quick. He kicked me with a vicious force that sent me sprawling onto the ground. Then he raised the sword over his head to plunge it deep into my heart. I saw my end near, but I had nothing to lose. I threw the dagger at his face and he froze in a grotesque position. I was terrified that I had missed him. Then his disfigured face, with the dagger struck in his left eye, shuddered and his entire body collapsed onto me. His sword plunged into the mud, a few feet above my head. Being short had its advantages. I wriggled out from under the giant and carefully pulled out the dagger from his eye.

  It was then that I heard footsteps. Other guards where coming to investigate. I frantically searched for an escape route and fumbled with the keys to open the gate. ‘The lock would not open.’ In a sweat, my hands shivered with excitement and sheer terror. ‘Which was the right key?’

  nt size=“Hey you!” someone shouted. I fumbled again. An arrow pierced the wooden gate two inches to the right of my neck while its vibrating tail sang in my ear. The next one came whining along and struck a few inches to the left of my shoulder. Its feathers caressed me. I could hear footsteps running towards me but the lock opened at last and I sneaked into the fort as a sword blade hit the copper edge of the door with a murderous clang. I pushed shut the door and once again fumbled with the keys. They were pressing the door open but using all my strength, I pushed back and finally managed to lock it. Then I ran for my life.

  I could see torches being lit in various parts of the fort as I ran towards the palace and the King’s chamber on the first floor. I scrambled up with the help of the vine that clung to the walls and landed on the verandah like a cat. I was quite athletic in my own way. The guards of the chamber peered over the balustrade to see what the commotion was about. I tipped them both over the balustrade with a timely push and then kicked open the door of the chamber. I waited with my dagger in hand but nothing happened. Nothing moved.

  A dark figure slept on the bed and small oil lamp flickered. I closed the door silently and latched it. I walked stealthily to the lamp and tugged at the wick of the lamp to brighten the room. Princess Soorpanakha! ‘Where was the bastard? Has he escaped?’ A sense of disappointment filled me. Every second I stayed I got closer to death. I wanted to scream in frustration when I heard a small laugh like the tinkle of a bell. It was faint but I would have recognized it a mile away. ‘Mala! What was she doing here?’ I listened like a wild cat on the prowl. The laugh came from the adjoining chamber and suddenly it dawned on me that Mala was with Vidyutjihva. Frantically I searched for the door to the adjoining chamber. I could hear the guards searching for me and knew my chances of escape were dwindling by the second. Someone knocked on the door and the princess stirred. I pressed myself against the wall. She opened her eyes and looked towards the door. She searched for her husband with her hands and not finding him, frowned. The knocking got more urgent as I desperately felt for the latch to the adjoining chamber with my fingers.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “Someone has entered your room, your Highness,” a voice cried out. My heart pounded in my chest. It took some time for her to register what had been said. Then she slowly sat up and after a few seconds hesitation, walked towards the door. ‘I’m finished!’ I thought. The soldiers rushed in and brusquely pushed aside the princess. My hand touched a secret latch and I yanked it open. A door opened and I fell onto my back. Instinctively I kicked the door closed, scrambled up, and locked the door. In a flash I turned. Vidyutjihva was there with my lover, lying on his back with she riding him. They froze in terror. Outside, guards pounded the door. Any moment they would break in.

  I smacked Mala across her face with the back of my left hand so hard that she hit the wall three feet away. I jumped onto Vidyutjihva and sat on his belly. I could not help smirking. With a viciousness that I never thought I possessed, I slashed him again and again across his handsome face with my poisoned dagger. He was long dead when I decided to cut off his penis. I did not even feel Mala tearing my back with her nails trying to save her lover or the sound of the guards pulling open the door. Only the scream of the princess brought me back to my senses. The guards were too shocked by the grisly sight to attack me. I was not sure whether the princess screamed for her murdered husband or his betrayal his bet. I pitied her. Blood dripped from my body and I was exhausted. I had almost given up when Princess Soorpanakha screamed at the top of her voice, “Bhadra, Bhadra. . . my brother sent you to kill my husband. Ravana. . .why, why?” She slapped her head with both her hands.

  I was shocked but when all the guards’ attention turned to the screaming princess, I escaped. The window was open and I jumped out in a trice. The captain of the guards shouted as I fell. My fall was arrested by a sprawling Ashoka tree and I bounced off its branches and rolled onto the ground. I did not know it then, but I had broken three ribs and my arm in the fall. But at the time nothing mattered. I ra
n for dear life, exhilarated at the thought of having accomplished great things for my master, my race, my nation, and myself. Arrows rained from all sides but miraculously, I was never hit. I knew a break in the west wall, from where I could jump into the sea, provided I could reach it. I ran with all the strength left to me. A few more steps, a few more steps, that was all and the mother sea would take me safely into her bosom. As I reached the breach in the wall, I had a strange sensation – no one was chasing me. ‘Was it a dream?’ I was afraid to stop and look.

  Then I heard the conches blowing. Surprised, I stopped and turned back. A procession entered through the wide open main gate of the fort. Ravana sat atop an elephant, as befitted an Emperor, with his huge army of elephants, cavalry, chariots, infantry and musicians, all marching in with great splendour. Chendas were beaten with great gusto, the curved horn trumpets were blown and cymbals clanged. One by one, the loyal guards of Vidyutjihva laid down their arms. Jai Shankar! Har har Mahadev! Hail Ravana! ‘Victory. Victory at last!’And I was instrumental. Pride swelled my chest and ignoring the pain in my body, I ran towards the procession.

  As I neared it, I was suddenly ashamed. I was in my loin cloth. I was dark and ugly and bleeding from a hundred places. These were Asura nobles marching in full glory. As I stood there, right in the path of the procession, vacillating, two soldiers ran towards me and forcibly dragged me off the path of the victory march and dumped me on the pavement. I lay there in shame, a sense of betrayal pressing hard against my heart. I could hear the tinkle of the bell of the royal elephant approaching and lifted my head and caught Ravana’s eye. ‘Was it disgust, hatred or gratitude I saw there?’ I’m still not sure. In my charitable moods I felt it was gratitude, but sometimes I thought it was hatred. It was likely that Ravana had not even recognized me.