Without speaking, I stood with the reward dumped on me by the government. The courier and faithful government servant, was determined to get something out of me. Disgusted, I dropped the entire reward into his hands and walked away. Without batting an eyelid, the guard took the bundle and walked into the palace. I joined the sea of revelers celebrating Rama’s death.
52 A prime minister’s mission
Ravana
Finally, it was over. My son had vanquished our greatest foes. I was so proud of him. But I was also worried. Something was wrong. He and his friend Athikaya, had managed to cut off Rama and Lakshmana from their generals, and trapped the Deva princes in deadly hand-to-hand combat. Prahastha had landed half his troops on the eastern side of the island the previous day, and had made them trek for the whole night to attack the Deva army from the rear. He had managed to draw Hanuman and Sugreeva from their masters and give them the impression that the Asura army was in retreat. Encouraged, the monkey-men had pursued the Asuras, and when they were sufficiently far away from Rama, the Asuras had turned back in deadly combat. I watched the battle from my citadel and was impressed by Prahastha’s generalship.
Rama was left with only a few guards and was soon outnumbered by Meghanada and Athikaya. They hacked their way through Rama’s determined and desperate army. They didn’t have much time and Meghanada went in for the kill. The Deva princes were quick and accurate with their arrows and woundƀs deteed my son and his servant many times. It was Athikaya who suggested that they get close to the Princes as quickly as possible so they would lose the advantage of their arrows.
Meghanada and Athikaya abandoned their chariot and rushed forward with drawn swords. They zigzagged through the fighting clump of men, and suddenly descended upon the Deva princes. It was a sign of how quick Rama was with his arrows; that is, in a split moment, he had half drawn his bow and managed to land an arrow on Meghanada’s shoulder. With one sweep of his sword, Meghanada hacked Rama down, while Athikaya struggled in mortal combat with the younger Deva prince. Lakshmana abandoned his bow and arrows and drew his sword. The Deva sword is a deadly weapon. Unlike the curved, heavy, iron sword the Asuras used, the Deva sword was a long, thin blade that was used like a dagger. Meghanada rushed to Athikaya’s aid but as he turned, Rama, whom he had thought was dead, caught hold of his leg and tripped him up. In the split moment that Athikaya turned to look at his master, Lakshmana thrust his sword into Athikaya.
Lakshmana turned swiftly and with his sword raised high with both hands, he went for the heart of my son who lay face down on the ground. It was then that Athikaya, who was on his knees, moved and dragged Meghanada away. Lakshmana’s sword narrowly missed the Asura prince and plunged deep into the soil. Meghanada thrust his sword deep into Lakshmana’s abdomen and he saw the younger Deva prince roll over, writhe in pain and then go still.
By this time, the old general of the Vanaras, had descended upon the small band of the Asura army from the hill he had been hiding in. From a height on the hill, the wily old general had watched the progress of the battle and directed its course when he saw Prahastha’s ploy. He rushed in with his band of men, to aid Rama. Sensing danger, Athikaya urged Meghanada to retreat, but Meghanada had lost consciousness by then. Athikaya carried the prince on his shoulders, though he himself was bleeding profusely. He hacked his way back to the chariot and tried to revive the Asura prince. He could see Jambavan’s men closing in
Jambavan had sent a message to Sugreeva and Hanuman to return to aid their leader. As one body, the entire Vanara army turned and charged back to close off Meghanada’s retreat. Prahastha’s army in the rear gave chase. I could see that my son was trapped, though I was unaware that he had lost consciousness. From my citadel I could only see the flag flying on his chariot. I worried when I saw the chariot in the middle of the battleground. ‘How could the boy be so reckless as to abandon his chariot and go after the enemy in hand to hand combat?’ That was not the way seasoned warriors fought. It wasn’t just dangerous, but foolish too. But boys will be boys and finally, through reckless bravery and luck, he vanquished the evil forces. It was then that Athikaya shouted at top of his voice, “Rama and Lakshmana are dead. Victory to Prince Meghanada.” Victorious cries rang through the Asura ranks. I could faintly hear what was happening, but my war hardened eyes noticed the way the Vanara armies charged. Imperceptibly they slowed down and that was enough for the Asuras. Jambavan tried to assemble his forces, shouting over and over again that it was an Asura ploy. But the news spread fast.
For the Vanaras it was unbelievable. Rama was a God to them, an invincible force of nature, and it was inconceivable that he had been slain by an ordinary Asura prince. The column led by Hanuman slowed down considerably and Prahastha’s men caught up with them to engage in combat. Athikaya’s men dashed out of the confusion towards the fort. By this time Meghanada had regained consciousness. He too cried out that he had killed Rama. The morale in Rama’s army sank further. For alˀthe confusl practical purposes, the war was over. I saw Prahastha’s forces round up the remaining Vanaras. But Jambavan tried to reach the place where the bodies of the Deva princes had fallen.
I was enraged to see my brother Vibhishana rushing towards the slain Deva princes. The scum that he was, he would be on all fours licking my feet, once he was sure the Asuras had won. I saw Jambavan’s men lift the limp bodies of the Deva princes. ‘Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.’ I could see it in the way the Vanaras changed. With the bodies of the princes in the chariot, the wily Vanara general turned his army and dashed towards the sea. Prahastha tried to follow, but was vigorously held back by Sugreeva and Hanuman. I saw a boat approach the beach and the bodies of the Deva princes being laid into it.
By then, Meghanada’s victory procession had reached the fort gates and my worried wife rushed out. She nagged me to come and receive her victorious son. But my eyes remained glued to the unfolding drama in the sea. The boat rowed away furiously towards one of the small uninhabited islands that dotted the north-western sea towards the mainland. As soon as the boat was at a safe distance, Hanuman’s column fled towards the sea over Rama’s bridge. Prahastha was in hot pursuit when suddenly Varuna’s army appeared to his rear. This was a ploy to allow the monkey-men to escape. Hanuman’s men crossed the bridge and destroyed the connection with the island.
With the news spreading that Meghanada had slain the enemy chief, the Asura army assembled and the celebrations began. There was the small matter of finishing off or conquering what was left of Rama’s army, but that could wait until tomorrow. Prahastha tried to rein in his indisciplined Asura soldiers, who had rushed back to the fort to celebrate the victory. But something nagged at me and I anxiously waited for Prahastha to report back. I was happy about our victory, but I was also worried by the way Jambavan had carried the princes. ‘Were they really dead?’ They were seriously injured, I knew that for sure. I was irritated that Meghanada had not cut off Rama and Lakshmana’s heads. The boy had been under tremendous pressure and had fought valiantly, but it was little details like that which changed the course of battles. Meghanada should never have assumed the enemy was dead from a few sword thrusts or some arrows. But only a miracle could get the vanquished back to life once his head had been severed. That was a lesson I learnt a long time ago in the dense forests, under Mahabali and Brahma.
Had I had such an opportunity in my younger days, I would have severed the heads of Rama and Lakshmana and raised them on poles for his men to see. The moment you get the chief, the war ends. It kills the morale of the warriors. I have seen it in the many campaigns of my youth. I had been in grave danger of being hacked to death, when many a time I had recklessly charged at the enemy chiefs with my Chandrahasa and somehow killed the enemy chief. No matter how many foes surrounded me and how close I was to death, the moment I cut off the head of their chief and make sure all of them saw it, the battle was over. The fool that Meghanada was, he did not ensure that Rama’s and Lakshmana’s heads were c
hopped off. That was a tactical error. Meghanada still lacked something that only the big league of great warriors had. Was it ruthlessness? The boy was too soft at heart to be a real warrior. I would have done the deed without batting an eyelid. So would have Bali, Rama, Hanuman, Prahastha, Rudraka or Mahabali.
That meant that the enemy was not yet dead. There must have been life left in Rama and Lakshmana or why would Jambavan have ferried them to the island? The enemy could still strikeˀfe left. ‘Foolish Meghanada.’ The boy had not seen the harshness of life, he took for granted the things I had built with my sweat and blood. He had yet to feel the utter helplessness of not knowing when or if the next meal would come. He has not seen the sorrow in the eyes of a mother who could not feed her children. I blamed Mandodari. She doted on her son like he was the only precious thing in the world. He was so handsome, loving and compassionate, that one could not help adoring the rascal. But, I should have brought him up better. A golden opportunity had been frittered away in battle. Fool!
I went in, wanting to grill him for his stupidity. He smiled at me with glowing pride. I waited for some time as I wished to get him alone. The other fool, Athikaya, was sitting on the floor like a happy mongrel. I wanted to bash the heads of both together, for what they had done. There they sat like heroes after missing the best chance the Asuras could have ever hoped for.
“Ravana, see how his body has been cut, my boy could have been killed.” Mandodari sobbed and showed me the various cuts and injuries. Meghanada was actually enjoying all the attention. ‘What did she expect? He had gone into battle. This was war. Why was the woman fussing over him?’ Then it struck me. Mandodari was seeing war for the first time. All my other campaigns had been fought in faraway lands. I had worried when I sent him alone to fight, for I knew the horrors that could happen in the fraction of a second on the battlefield. I agonised about the stray arrow that could land in his eye and pop his brains out. If women saw the battlefields where foolish men slaughtered each other, there would have been no wars in this world. I did not have the heart to break into this scene so I went out of the room. Prahastha came to me and bowed. I clasped his hands and led him towards the balcony.
“What do you think? Did Rama die?” I asked, knowing the answer well.
He shook his head.
“The boys botched it up, I think.” I said, and he smiled sadly.
“We cannot blame them. Meghanada is too inexperienced and soft, but this could turn out to cost us high.” Prahastha avoided my eyes. I could feel the frustration in him. “He should be stopped.” Prahastha said, concentrating hard on the distant island where Jambavan had retreated with his injured leader. I looked at him confused.
“Your Highness, the information I got was that both the princes are on the verge of death, but the Vanaras medical knowledge is legendary. They know how to extract life-saving juices from the most unlikely plants. They do not use chemical powders like we do. Instead, they use a system of medicine called Ayurveda, where the thrust is on plants.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We are unsure if Rama is alive or not. He was gravely injured and could even be dead by now. But if he is alive, or if the Vanara doctors have somehow miraculously saved him, they will need to brew their medicines. The kind of plants they use are usually found only in three areas of India – in Lanka, on the tropical, south-western coasts of the mainland, and in the Himalayas. The Himalayas are too far. They cannot enter Lanka as it would be too dangerous, but they might try and we have to be alert to such a possibility. The only option left is for them to go to the west coast of the mainland. The Vanaras will explore both options urgently.”
“Why don’t we attack and take the island tonight?” I was not confident about this option, but I sounded out the idea with Prahastha.
“No. Varuna’s fleet is standing guard. It is too risky. What we caˀahan do is hope that Rama and Lakshmana die. Then we can cheaply buy off the greedy Vanara King, Sugreeva. Meanwhile, our island security also has to be strengthened. It could be Angada who attempts to get into Lanka. Your Highness, we should alert Lankini, immediately”
Lankini was the Asura governor located at the southern tip of the mainland, where the three oceans met. She had ruled the southern provinces of the mainland with a just and iron hand. Though she was under my suzerainty, I had stopped my annual visits as she never defaulted in sending huge sums of money for my protection. She should have assisted me in attacking Rama from the rear, but like any good sovereign under my imperial thumb, she sat on the fence to see how things would work out and then align with the winner. I had sent many messages to her for reinforcements, but the letters remained unanswered. I was bitter, but also knew that this was life.
“How will we inform Lankini?” I grew more and more apprehensive about the whole scheme, but somehow, what Prahastha said, made sense. I considered launching an attack on the Vanaras who had withdrawn to the island and weighed the options. But that would be a reckless venture, tempting fate rather too far. No, the best bet was to ensure that Rama died. I felt a pang of pity for my daughter, but brushed it aside hastily.
“We have to move quickly. I’ll take one of the snake boats and go myself,” Prahastha talked to himself rather than to me. Snake boats had been exclusively used by Mahabali’s navy when he had ruled from the west coast of the mainland. They were long and sleek and needed more than 120 oarsmen each. They were ideal in the lagoons that dotted the west coast, but were rarely used in the open sea. But they were the fastest possible way to travel, other than the Pushpaka.
“Your Highness, I’ll undertake the mission myself. I have to sneak past Varuna’s fleet and reach the mainland by dawn. It is dangerous and given a choice, I would have avoided it. But no one knows the waters better than I do. I’m sure the Vanaras will not attempt an attack until their princes recover. I will start now. And it would be a good idea to give the command to Kumbakarna.”
Bowing, he left before I could stop him. ‘Give my brother command?’ That was easier said than done. My younger brother has been lying drunk for many days. His addiction to drugs and alcohol had become habitual and I could see him wasting away and disintegrating before my eyes. Was it because I sensed a rival in him that I had not made enough of an effort to wean him away from his bad habits? I do not know. I had not even thought about him for many days. I hadn’t for a moment thought of Maricha. I had not even spared a though for Akshaya Kumara, my little boy who had been murdered by Hanuman. And now, when I was so short of good men to take command, Prahastha reminded me of my brother. I had to find him in one of the dark holes of the palace and pull him from his dark world of happiness to fight my war. It wasn’t going to be easy.
53 Violation
Bhadra
It was in those moments just before the dawn, when the darkness is so thick that you feel it sticking to your skin, that I heard footsteps. My animal instincts had not weakened with age. My ears picked up the sounds of danger even though I was as drunk as a hog. I did not dare raise my head, but somebody was moving silently and that meant trouble. I listened intently for any sound. The last of the oil lamps had died long ago. The sky was overcast and there was bu no sound other than the intermittent cries of a night fowl. I listened, afraid to even breathe.
This time it was unmistakable. There were many of them. I could sense their presence in the night. They were on the treetops, slowly treading over the hundreds of snoring Asura soldiers. I slowly opened my eyes. I could see the limp figures of the Asura guards at the palace door. I heard a rustle in the trees close to the first floor balcony and some dark figures jumped onto the verandah with graceful ease. It could only be the Vanaras.
A chill went down my spine. ‘Why are they here?’ The guards were drunk from yesterday’s victory party and had passed out. Slowly I crawled towards the palace on all fours. I feared the worst. As I reached the doors, I could see the guards had been killed, their throats slit open. The enemy was inside. Should I shout and make a n
oise? But would anyone wake up? I had to warn Ravana. I knew where the royal chambers were. But I was afraid. The enemy could have been anywhere. In the dark shadows of the palace, death was waiting to pounce on me. I had always believed that I was ready to die. If I died, nobody would bother, perhaps not even my wife, certainly not my son. Still I wanted to live. I knew what was at stake if Ravana lost. My people would die a thousand deaths all their lives at the hands of the Brahmins. I pushed my tired body, trembling at the slightest sound, afraid even to breath, to the first floor where I knew Ravana slept. That is, if he was not already dead. I wished I had more strength in my body and that I was young and daring again.
I climbed up the stairs on tiptoe, avoiding the slightest sound. I heard a muffled cry and then a thud and the noise of something being dragged. With my heart pounding, I peeped from the stairs and saw a few Vanaras scamper away. I recognized their evil prince, Angada. He carried a limp form on his shoulder and was running from the room. Some of the guards who were still sober had finally woken up and tried to stop Angada. He did not even break stride, just thrust and hacked his way through the stunned guards with his sword. I rushed to the entrance of the royal chamber and found the guards lying in pools of blood. The guards who had dared to confront the Vanara prince were dead or writhing in pain with their guts spilled out and blood spurting all over the beautiful carpets.
I looked at the swinging doors of the chamber and hesitated for a few seconds. Then bracing myself to see the Emperor with a dagger stuck into his heart, I pushed open the door. The chamber was empty. There were no dead bodies anywhere. Only the bed looked as if it had witnessed some struggle. Then it occurred to me. ‘Angada had carried away Mandodari, the Asura Queen. He had come with murder in mind but not finding the Emperor in his chamber, had kidnapped his wife instead. Ravana had to be informed. Where was he?’ I ran through the corridors of the palace, banging on doors and crying loudly, calling for Athikaya. Many people woke up and I shouted at the top of my voice that the Queen had been kidnapped by Angada. Initially there was no reaction. No doubt many thought I was blabbering after having had too much liquor. Then the panic started. The guards woke and ran here and there like headless chickens. Many wailed loudly, some shouting orders, but there was no one to obey them, and others sat blinking and not understanding what the ruckus was all about.
Asura- Tale of the Vanquished Page 40
