Asura- Tale of the Vanquished

by Anand Neelakantan

  “What is this?” My hands had gone to the hilt of my sword.

  The young man stood silently for a moment and it seemed I had frightened him. Then slowly he raised his eyes and said, “Forgive us, your Highness. It was our father’s wish. He used to say that these did not belong to us, but to the people of theۀ it was country. They had just allowed him to wear these ornaments, like the uniform of the palace guards. The moment he resigned or retired or died, the same was to be returned to the King, who would hold them on behalf of the people. I am just obeying my father’s wishes.”

  There was a deathly silence. Then, like water draining out of a leaky jug, my indignation melted away. Tears welled in my eyes. Prahastha had been the one who deserved to be Emperor of the Asuras. But then, had he had my charm? Had he possessed the ruthlessness I did? Maybe he had possessed all these, but he had chosen to live and die by something beyond them. Above all, this country had chosen me over him, that was the nasty truth, and he knew it. I had become the ruler. This country and its stupid people had not deserved Prahastha. They deserved me or even worse, selfish rascals like my brother Vibhishana, who would sell the country and his kin for a fistful of gold to the white-skinned invaders from across the sea.

  I walked away from Prahastha’s humble hut. I already missed his arguments, his stubbornness, his advice. I longed for our youth and the tense relationship we had shared. If I came out of this war alive, I would build up my empire again, but with more compassion, more probity for government servants, more transparency in governance, and make it less bureaucratic and more people oriented. Prahastha may perhaps have had more influence on me dead than alive. I hoped his sacrifice would not be wasted, but then, which sacrifice had not been a waste?

  Lankini. She betrayed us. But then, I had half expected it. Asuras would not be Asuras without betrayals. That had been why I had wanted Prahastha to stop Hanuman with the help from the wily Governor of Kanyakumari. ‘How could all this happen in one day? Yesterday, we were on the verge of a stupendous victory. Now the tables were turned.’

  The reports I received were sketchy, but the picture that emerged was typical. Prahastha had been delayed by bad weather and by the time he reached the mainland, Lankini had struck a deal with Hanuman. Lankini, who had a lot to gain in siding with Rama, let Prahastha believe that Hanuman had yet to reach the mainland and insisted that he rest. Prahastha’s food had been laced with drugs and then Lankini had stabbed him to death in his drug-induced sleep. By then, H

  anuman had returned with the essential medicinal plants he had been sent to fetch for the princes. I did not know whether they had succeeded in reviving Rama and Lakshmana but Lankini had been audacious enough to send the slain body of my Prime Minister to me. I decided that once I had finished off Rama, I would ask Lankini some pertinent questions.

  I was so tired of the war. But I didn’t have the power to stop it. The juggernaut rolled on. It would stop when the time was right and not when the participants wished. And it would destroy whatever came in its way – pride, power, life, honour, everything.

  It had grown dark by the time I reached the palace. The torches sputtered in the cold, salty breeze that came from the sea and the world danced around in the ever-changing play of light and shadow. The sky was an inky blanket with holes where the stars flickered, faded, and glowed bright again. I was tired but hesitated to go to my bedroom and face my wife. I went instead to see my daughter. The night was cold and she was all alone under that Ashoka tree, where she still lived. I thought of my sons, Meghanada, Akshaya, and even Athikaya. I hoped Rama was dead and the monkey-men had returned to their jungle kingdom. There followed a few seconds of bliss, when all thoughts ceased.

  From far away, where the sea was a moving grey living thing, faint sounds of cheering rose from that island hidden in the darkness. I had my answer. . ۀed.<.Rama was alive and the next day he would attack me with a vengeance. Somehow I found the thought comforting. War, after all, was a catharsis for my numbed soul. One way or the other it would be decided soon.

  A soldier stood before me and bowed, “Your Highness, Prince Kumbakarna is awake and seeks audience.” With a nod of my head I gave permission and Kumbha walked in. The moment I saw his face, I knew there was going to be trouble.

  55 Kumbhakarna’s attack

  Bhadra

  Rama and Lakshmana were saved by some miraculous Vanara medicine. The brief splutter of hope that had arisen in our hearts, died. I watched mutely, too exhausted to even stand up, as the fort gates opened and hordes of Asuras marched to meet Rama and his monkey-men once again. Riding amidst the column, on a tall elephant, was Prince Kumbakarna. This march was different. The majority of soldiers did not not carry bows and arrows or swords. The front columns carried long, bamboo poles sharpened at the edges. They were followed by Kumbakarna, who led a platoon of war elephants. There were no chariots this time. They were a disadvantage on the soft, white, sandy beaches of Lanka. Kumbakarna, in a single day had found the weakness in the Asura defence. The Asuras had been fighting the war like they would have on the plains of the mainland. It was a good defence strategy and suddenly I felt enthusiastic and trotted along with the marching soldiers, unmindful of the danger. Kumbakarna was taking the battle to the enemy camp.

  I found that many commoners had joined the ranks. A few were my acquaintances and they invited me to join them. It was madness, but I joined them anyway. The column stretched for miles behind us. It was then that I saw two shining figures on horseback. The sun was behind them so I could not see their faces.

  “There is prince Meghanada and his servant,” said the part-time barber who doubled as assistant to the priest of the street temple near my home.

  He carried a stone club much too big for him. I then recognized, to my horror, Prince Meghanada on the white horse and Athikaya faithfully following him on a black horse. In the sea of club brandishing and black, glistening bodies of Asuras, the two of them stood out and their ornaments glittered in the sun. ‘They were easy targets for Vanara shooters. How foolish can the young be?’ I tried push my way towards my son and the Prince, but was carried away in the tide of marching fighters.

  I could see the long column of Vanaras stretching to the sea. There were many more on the bridge which they had rebuilt. Varuna’s ships stretched right to the horizon. There were Vanaras everywhere on the beach, screaming and creating a din, as well as on the boats that were being launched from the ships. The first arrow from one of the flame-throwers on Varuna’s ship, whooshed overhead. Men screamed. The Asura archers who were perched on the trees on the cliff, showered arrows back on the Vanaras landing on the beach. Many Vanaras fell, but like locusts they kept on coming.

  Kumbakarna called a halt before our army reached the clearing on the beach. Swift orders were passed and there was a lot of confusion. Captains screamed commands and there was a lot of pushing and jostling, but finally the army spread out in an arch, in the cover of the tress instead of stepping into the clearing. The Asuras waited. The elephants had giant logs and trees in their trunks and waited at the edge of the clearing. I could see Prince Meghanada getting restless on his horse and pushing his way towards the Commander. He finally succeeded ހ

  Suddenly the murmur in the Asura ranks died down. The two Princes were arguing. Kumbakarna got more and more agitated, but Meghanada kept screaming at his uncle. Athikaya too joined in abusing Kumbakarna. Meghanada wanted to attack immediately, but Kumbakarna had a plan which Meghanada did not think was brilliant. He called Kumbakarna a coward and an old woman and the Commander ordered his men to arrest Meghanada and Athikaya. The situation became ugly. Kumbakarna’s men circled Meghanada and Athikaya with their swords drawn. Meghanada’s men fought their way towards their leader and soon the fight had spread to the whole army. Asuras do not need Devas to be defeated. I just wanted to get out.

  It was at this moment that a few Vanara soldiers chose to rush out of the woods. The Vanara Commander, Jambavan, screamed at them to stay back,
but I saw that the foolish raid was led by none other than Prince Angada. ‘Why do the young try foolish things to defy the old and more experienced elders?’ Kumbakarna gave the order to attack and the infighting stopped. The elephants advanced, massive hills of flesh with huge logs in their trucks, they moved with unbelievable speed towards the Vanara army. Angada and his men, who were full of enthusiasm and bravado a few minutes before, tottered in their advance and took to their heels towards the safety of their group. But the mighty mountains advanced relentlessly, smashing the Vanara ranks and driving the panic stricken monkey-men into the sea. From the rear, the Asura army advanced and caught the fleeing Vanaras trying to desperately escape, and clubbed them to their death.

  The elephants wrecked havoc in the Vanara ranks. The column of men brandishing long poles, pierced the Vanara ranks. Soon the hairy men were in a state of panic and despair. From the cliff, huge boulders rolled down on the fleeing Vanaras. Angada was caught by a war elephant which flung him far away. The arrogant Vanara prince landed with a sickening thud among his fleeing troupes. He would have got trampled by his own people but managed to scramble up and dislodge one of the riders fleeing the battle scene. In disgust I saw the coward fleeing for his life towards his own camp while the man he had unseated, died under the galloping horses.

  The flame throwing from the ships had stopped as they retreated to the high seas. Soon the Asuras had gained a clear edge in the battle that was being fought on the land and the sea. I didn’t venture into the frontlines and watched the Vanara men being torn limb from limb and trampled by the elephants. By afternoon, the Asuras had advanced onto Rama’s bridge and were chasing the fleeing Vanaras. A small group of Vanaras led by the spirited Hanuman, was all that was left between Rama and the complete annihilation of his army. Hanuman, effectively controlled and utilized his men, creating a great din with huge drums that confused the elephants, all the time shooting well aimed arrows at the men riding the animals.

  I wondered where Meghanada had gone, when a curious whirring sound ripped through the air. The noise increased and many people stopped hacking each other to death and actually looked up. Flying low over this crowd, was Meghanada in Mayan’s flying contraption. The huge fans of the machine whirred furiously, whipping up sand and water. I could also see Athikaya in the machine and they were shooting flame-tipped arrows at the Vanaras. Some of the Asuras cheered on their hero but I saw Kumbakarna’s face twist in anger. He shouted something which no one could hear and gestured frantically at the Pushpaka, but was only answered by a daring manoeuvre of the flying machine that almost touched the Commander’s crown. Kumbakar　d hena tried hard to control his elephants. They were edgy and did not respond to the commands of their mahouts.

  Many of the flame-tipped arrows found their mark and many Vanaras were killed. But with the Asuras busy watching the spectacle in the sky, the pace of the attack slowed down considerably. It was then that disaster struck. With a curious change in sound, the flying contraption sputtered, its fans slowed, and then it fell like a stone into the water near the bridge. It sank and then bobbed up to the surface. My heart sank. ‘My son, Athikaya!’ I rushed forward but was stopped by stronger men hurrying to see the spectacle.

  By the time I got a clear view, I saw that Meghanada had managed to climb onto the bridge and was trying to pull up the contraption. Hanuman, seeing his chance, commanded his men to move forward and capture the Prince. Athikaya clambered onto the bridge and tried to aid the prince in pulling up the machine. Kumbakarna rushed forward to save the Prince. In his excitement, Kumbakarna was some distance ahead of his army, trying to reach his nephew before Hanuman could get to him. Kumbakarna’s great elephant was hardly ten feet from Meghanada when an iron-tipped arrow pierced the elephant’s head and entered almost two feet into its brain. The great body shuddered violently as it crashed down, trumpeting loudly. Kumbakarna was thrown from his mount.

  Arrows whizzed past Meghanada and Athikaya, but fortunately none found their mark. They had almost managed to get the machine onto the bridge and were using it as cover. Many of the arrows struck the machine or zinged past it. Kumbakarna ran towards his dead elephant to get his club. I could see Rama and Lakshmana, sitting on the shoulders of mighty Vanara men, shooting arrows at Kumbakarna and Meghanada. The Asura army hesitated, too shocked to believe what was happening in front of them. Hanuman and his men were only a few feet from Meghanada, while Kumbakarna tried to pull his club out from under the mighty carcass of his elephant.

  I watched in rising panic, when that wily, old rascal, Jambavan, cleverly used the moment to instruct his flame throwers to aim at the elephants. On the beach, the elephants moved as a mighty wall and were easier to control. On the narrow bridge, where one elephant followed the other with a heaving sea beneath, the animals became unwieldy. When one of the flaming missiles found its mark, the elephant panicked, turned around, and ran back at great speed. It crashed into the elephant following it, which in turn panicked. Soon there was total chaos in the Asura ranks. Elephants ran amok, smashing everything in their path. A few ran towards the Vanara ranks, barely missing Meghanada and Kumbakarna, leaving death and destruction in their trail. But the majority of the panic stricken elephants ran towards the Asura ranks. A few fell into the water.

  I ran for my life and clambered up a coconut palm. Below, men on both sides fought the beasts rather than one another. With a mighty crash, the bridge collapsed. Meghanada, Athikaya and Kumbakarna were struck on the other side, with thousands of enemies against them. The Vanara army succeeded in slaying the few elephants that had strayed to their side. Kumbakarna had succeeded in freeing his heavy club and stood brandishing it between Hanuman’s men and Meghanada and Athikaya. The Asura army was in disarray. Meghanada and Athikaya, to my surprise, had got into the flying machine and were trying to get it to fly. ‘They weren’t trying to defend their uncle.’ Kumbakarna continued forward using his heavy club to deflect a few arrows as he advanced swiftly to crush the heads of Hanuman’s men.

  Kumbakarna w　umbakaas too close. Rama and Lakshmana, and the other archers could not get the range to strike Kumbakarna as he almost merged with them. He smacked the Vanaras with his huge club, smashing their skulls and limbs before they could brandish their swords or aim their arrows. And so one man single handedly held the mighty Vanara army on that narrow bridge. Jambavan shouted at his men on the boats to surround Kumbakarna and attack his rear. But some Asuras had regained their wits and prevented Jambavan’s boats from getting within shooting distance of Kumbakarna. The battle started in the sea again. I could see Varuna’s ships turn back. Canoes were launched at a distance and fast approached the shore. ‘How long could we hold on? How swiftly fortunes had changed and all because of that foolish Meghanada showing off.’

  By this time Sugreeva, the Vanara King, and Hanuman, had broken through the ranks, brandishing huge, iron clubs themselves. I tried to train my eyes on the enemy chief. ‘Where had Rama and Lakshmana gone?’ They seemed to have vanished. The fans of the flying machine started rotating slowly, sputtered and stopped, and then, after a few moments, whirred again and stopped. All this time, Kumbakarna had been fighting a duel with Hanuman and Sugreeva. Alone, he held off the two great warriors while his nephew fiddled with the flying contraption. The Asura army was now leaderless, and saw both their Princes struck in the middle of the enemy, fighting for their lives.

  With a strong blow, Kumbakarna sent Sugreeva crashing into the water, but Hanuman broke through his defence and rushed towards Meghanada. Kumbakarna turned and almost flew to catch Hanuman by his feet. Both warriors went down fighting. A few arrows struck Kumbakarna and Hanuman too was injured. The western sky had turned red when I saw Kumbakarna lift Hanuman up and smash him on the floor with great violence. Hanuman lay there without any movement and I uttered a jubilant cheer. At that moment, an arrow struck Kumbakarna’s neck from behind and the tip that pierced his throat, caught the crimson rays of the setting sun. Slowly, the huge body of the brav
e Asura prince collapsed lifeless onto the bridge and then crashed into the sea, taking a huge chunk of the bridge along with him. Finally, Jambhavan had managed to gain a str

  ategic position and Rama, an expert at shooting arrows at people from behind, had not missed this time either.

  With horror, the Asuras watched their Commander die and the Vanara army rushed in to finish off the trapped Prince and his servant in their contraption. I felt dizzy. Was I going to witness my son being torn to pieces? Then Hanuman stirred and the Vanara army who had thought that their general was dead, were taken by surprise. They halted as Hanuman came to life slowly. He staggered and swayed and steadied himself on the flying machine, when its fans suddenly came to life. He panicked and jumped back, and before the Vanaras could comprehend what had happened, the fan started rotating furiously. Jambavan cried out orders to stop the machine as it lifted. The monkeys rushed forward shooting arrows, throwing clubs, and hurling themselves on the machine that was quickly rising. A few brave ones tried to hold on and got chopped into pieces by the rotating blades.

  As the sun set, the Prince and my son escaped in their machine to the safety of Ravana’s palace, leaving the poorer folks to the mercy of the Vanaras. And the men who had left their families for the greater glory of their race, fought and killed, and got killed. So also the poor Vanaras who fought for the glory of someone they had never even heard of a few months ago. Later, when Jambavan ordered his men back and the Vanaras retreated to their island, I climbed down from my perch. On my way back, I scared a few jacka　 fels and bandicoots who were feasting, and without a second thought, stepped over the dead body of the part-time cook and priest who had shown me the impressive sight of Prince Meghanada that morning. Another Prince, Kumbakarna, was now food for the sharks, who fortunately did not value heroism and enjoyed both heroes and villains with equal delight. I would have given anything for a drink. It was a beautiful night, dark and strange, a night to get drunk and sleep like a log.