‘Aiyyo, I was so worried about you!’
Rama said nothing, merely holding her tight despite the disapproving glances all around. He hadn’t seen her in over a month, and he didn’t care what anyone would think of him embracing her in public. After a minute, however, she pulled away and said admonishingly, ‘I thought you said you’d be with us soon! This isn’t soon.’
‘I know, my love. I’m sorry,’ Rama replied. ‘It’s a long story and I’ll tell you about it at home. Wait here, I’ll back in a minute with my friend.’
‘What friend is this?’ she asked, slightly alarmed. ‘We have finished eating. I’ll have to cook again. That might take some time.’
‘That’s all right,’ Rama replied, squeezing her hand tightly. ‘We just had some pesarettus.’
‘Hurry up,’ she said. ‘I want to hear about all that happened to you. I don’t like that beard. It makes you look older than you are.’
‘Well, then I suppose I’ll have to visit a barber,’ he smiled as he walked back to the tiffin stall. A weight had been lifted off his chest; he had been wondering about his wife’s reaction on his return. Entering the stall, he went up to Mohan, who was still eating, ‘Hurry up, will you? My wife is waiting for us.’
‘Ah, so you found her. Is she well?’ Mohan asked through mouthfuls. ‘This pesarettu is really good, I feel like another one.’
‘She’ll make us lunch when we get home. Come on, don’t waste time.’
‘All right. All right. Stay calm.’
While Mohan went to the back to wash his hands, Rama paid the stall owner. When Mohan returned they walked towards Sita.
‘I have sent for the barber so that that monstrosity can come off,’ she told Rama. ‘Do you want anything special for lunch?’
‘Sita, this is my childhood friend, Mohan.’ Rama replied, patting his friend on the shoulder. ‘And no, just normal saapaadu will do.’
Sita smiled at Mohan, ‘Namaskaram. I hope my husband has been taking good care of you?’
‘Well, Amma, he has done his best to get me into trouble,’ Mohan replied, putting his hands together in greeting.
‘Mohan and I have been best friends since we were very small,’ Rama told her. ‘I got him into trouble frequently.’
‘Oh, poor thing!’ she exclaimed with a dimpled smile. ‘Come, let’s go home.’
As they walked to Sita’s parents’ home, Sita asked Rama whether his trip had been useful. Rama, not quite sure how to respond, just told her that it had, before bombarding her with questions about the town and how little Pattabhi had taken to living there. Their son, she said, was extremely happy and very mischievous. Living with his grandparents seemed to be good for him. He was talking quite well in Telugu already, and was reciting a number of shlokas beautifully.
Sita’s parents had moved to Chitoor as soon as they had got their only daughter married off. They had bought a house from a family that was leaving for another town. It was a big house with a little garden in the front and a much larger one in the back. As they entered the garden, Pattabhi ran screaming towards his father, ‘Appa’s back, Appa’s back!’
‘Hello, little fellow,’ Rama said, picking his son up in his arms. ‘What’s all this I hear about you being mischievous?’
‘Krishna threw the stone that broke the mirror, Appa, not I,’ Pattabhi replied with an innocent expression. ‘All I did was play with him.’
‘Oh yes, he and his friend broke a mirror three houses down the road this morning,’ Sita broke in, in a severe tone. ‘He’s been simply incorrigible since he started befriending that boy.’
‘Krishna is my special friend, Appa. Wouldn’t you like to meet him?’
‘Yes, very much, Pattabhi,’ Rama said as he put his son down. Turning to his wife he continued, ‘Come; let’s meet your parents first.’
Sita’s father was tall and thin, and though he was only forty-five-years old, he moved and behaved like he was much older.
He peered at Rama warmly as they entered the house, but his smile waned a little when he saw Mohan.
‘Namaskaram, Ayya,’ Rama said, hands together in respect. ‘I’m sorry to arrive suddenly like this.’
‘Nonsense, Rama! This is your house.’
‘I’d like you to meet my oldest and best friend, Ayya, this is Mohan,’ Rama went on, indicating Mohan.
Sita’s father was nonplussed; he did not know whether to greet Mohan as a friend of his son-in-law, and therefore an honoured guest, or as a Shudra. Mohan took the decision out of his hands by going up to him and touching his feet in respect. Rama’s father-in-law compromised by putting his hands together and saying, ‘May the gods bless you, Thambi.’
Mohan stepped back and smiled. Sita’s father looked down quickly at the floor before calling out to his wife, ‘Shanthi, your son-in-law and his friend are here. Come in and greet them.’
Sita’s mother, a plump, pleasant-looking woman, entered the room, smiling, but the smile faded when she saw Mohan.
‘Oh!’ she said.
‘Shanthi, this is Rama’s childhood friend, Mohan,’ Sita’s father informed his wife.
‘Namaskaram, Mappilai,’ she greeted Rama, hands together.
‘Namaskaram, Thambi,’ she said, turning to Mohan.
‘Namaskaram, Mami,’ Rama greeted her.
‘How are you?’
‘I am doing well. Have you eaten yet?’
‘We had something to eat, but we would not mind eating a proper meal,’ he responded.
Whatever her sentiments about Mohan, all her instincts as a mother-in-law and hostess came to the fore and, squaring her shoulders, she said, ‘Give me fifteen minutes. I shall prepare a good hot meal for both of you.’
‘Thank you,’ they both replied simultaneously.
‘Sita, will you please come with me?’ Rama asked his wife.
Rama took her hands in his and started walking out when he remembered Mohan.
‘Mohan, will you come too, please?’
‘Coming,’ Mohan replied before turning to Sita’s parents. ‘I am honoured to meet both of you.’
Husband and wife responded by putting their hands together silently.
‘Mohan, why don’t you take little Pattabhi outside,’ Rama suggested as he took Sita into one of the rooms and told her the whole story, not omitting anything. She listened attentively, without interrupting. But when he got to the part about his mother’s death she began crying.
When Rama finished, she asked, ‘But the chakra is gone now, how will you find it?’
‘I’ll find it later. Haider Ali is camped nearby; this is my chance to avenge my parents’ deaths. This is a sign from the gods.’
‘No! ‘You can’t go. Please don’t do this.’
‘I must, Sita. Don’t worry, I promise I will be careful.’
‘Is Mohan going with you?’ Sita asked
‘Well, Mohan said he wasn’t going to let me go alone, but I hope to dissuade him from joining me.’
‘But why would you want to go alone?’
‘Because it’s just not fair to let Mohan risk his life. Here,’ he said, taking off his earrings and handing them to her. ‘Keep these for me.’
Her eyes swelled in fear. She had never seen him without his earrings.
‘Please, don’t do this,’ Sita pleaded. ‘Revenge is not worthwhile.’
‘You won’t lose me Sita. I promise. Please let me go.’
‘Then please take your friend with you. There’s strength in numbers.’
‘It really will not make much difference if one goes there or two. All right, I’ll take him with me.’
‘All right,’ Sita agreed grudgingly.
Rama took his wife in his arms, ‘I love you.’
‘And I love you. When are you leaving?’
‘Immediately. I just wanted to make sure that you and Pattabhi were all right. I’ll be back in a few days.’
As Rama exited the house, he saw his friend sitting under a tree with li
ttle Pattabhi on his lap.
Rama said to his son,
‘Pattabhi, go inside and help. Paati. I need to talk to Uncle.’
He looked at Mohan and said, simply, ‘We go after Haider Ali.’
Mohan only nodded in reply.
Later that afternoon, Rama and Mohan headed out towards the fort of Chandragiri where Haider Ali was camped. The fort was a few hours away. After buying some equipment they would require on this mission, the pair set off. Rama had shaved and was looking about ten years younger. Mohan rode on grimly, not saying a word till they approached the fort. It stood on a hillock, and the pink spires of the main palace could be seen from a distance, and as Rama dismounted, he realized that the walls of the fort weren’t very high and would be easy to scale.
Rama and Mohan decided to stay out of sight till long after nightfall. It was a dark night, the moon was almost completely gone and not much was visible. After a silent prayer thanking the gods, Rama took the first watch while Mohan slept.
The friends had not been able to make plans because neither knew the layout of the fort, and consequently had no idea what to expect. Based on what he could see, Rama realized that they would have to find a suitable place to scale the wall, and then a vantage point to observe what was going on inside the fort before they could launch their attack.
A little over two hours had passed when Rama heard footsteps approaching. He shook Mohan awake while clamping a hand over his mouth. Mohan snapped out of his sleep in an instant and looked up at Rama in the darkness, fear in his eyes.
‘Sshhh, it’s me. Someone is coming. We need to hide.’
Mohan quickly grabbed Rama’s hand and pulled it away from his mouth before noiselessly moving closer to the rock behind which they were sheltered. He moved quickly, but not quickly enough, for as he started moving, a patrol of two men came into sight. As he moved, the rustle that such a movement invariably entails was soft, but in the still of the night on those terrifyingly barren plains, it was as clear as a trumpet. The soldiers heard him, and one of them shouted out, ‘Who goes there?’
Rama and Mohan kept completely quiet, even as Rama quietly picked up a crossbow and fit a bolt into it. As the two soldiers started walking towards them, Rama put the crossbow his shoulder and, aiming at the silhouette of one of the two approaching guards, pulled the trigger and saw his projectile hit its mark right through the throat of the guard, bringing him down. His companion seemed very confused by the sudden turn of events and looked down uncertainly at the body of his companion.
‘Rangan? Get up, this isn’t funny.’
He bent down to examine the body, touched the arrow and leapt back to his feet. That was to be his last action, for his back had barely straightened before a bolt pierced his heart and he fell down, his hands clutching the arrow. He was dead in seconds.
Rama quickly ran up to the fallen bodies and dragged them both to the rock. As he did so, Mohan whispered, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Take their clothes.We’ll dress up as soldiers,’ Rama whispered, urgently. ‘Hurry.’
‘Isn’t it too soon to go in?’
‘We have no choice. These fellows are bound to be missed. We need to move fast. We have to scale the northern wall, so run towards it and throw a rope up to one of the ledges.’
They quickly removed the clothes off the two dead soldiers and dressed themselves in them. Light brown with red bordered shirts and veshtis with armour covering their torsos, and red turbans. After dressing up as Haider Ali’s soldiers, the pair tied their weapons to their bodies and picked up the crossbows before sprinting towards the fort’s walls. As they reached the northern face, Rama whirled a hook that he had tied to a long rope twice around, before throwing it up the wall. The hook landed on the ledge and, as Rama started pulling it gently, it caught the folded edge of the ledge. Mohan whispered, ‘You go up, and then pull me up.’
‘All right. See you in a minute.’
Slinging the crossbow over his shoulder, Rama started pulling himself up to the ledge. It was at a height of around fifteen feet from the ground and the wall itself would have been about twenty feet tall. Rama reached the ledge in a minute and moved aside before Mohan, feeling the rope go slack, proceeded to pull himself up. As he reached the ledge, Rama held his hand out and pulled Mohan up the last three feet. Once on the ledge, he signalled for Mohan to keep still as he carefully peered over the wall of the fort. Inside, there was row after row of tents of the soldiers of Haider’s army.
Rama looked around for the tent that would be Haider Ali’s. There was one tent that was much bigger than the rest, but it didn’t look like the commander’s tent. As his gaze moved across the lawns, they came to rest on the palace within the fort. It was brightly lit and there seemed to be life within. That was probably where Haider was staying; it had to be! He scanned the building for signs of where Haider might be sleeping and his eyes perceived the room right at the centre of the building, on the first floor. There was a large balcony there with no guards, as opposed to the floor above as well as the front door below, where there were guards. The room below was probably the room Haider was using as his bedchamber. How would he get up there? He scanned all the rooms around and realized that he would have to go through the ground floor. Reaching from the top was out of the question, as it was guarded. There were no other balconies on that face of the building and the walls looked most unsupportive. But how would he get through the front entrance, past the two guards that stood there? He would have to enter from one of the rooms on the side that had a window. The side that he could see looked fairly disused. He could enter from there and find the stairs leading to the first floor. Once on that floor, he would have to figure out how to enter Haider Ali’s bedroom.
As he looked at the balcony, which he presumed was Haider Ali’s, a man walked out onto the balcony in a long robe and a small hookah in his left hand. He was small and nondescript, save for the huge moustache that he sported over his upper lip. Even at that distance, Rama could make out that he was an unattractive man with a receding hairline. He wore a few heavy gold chains around his neck. This then had to be his quarry, though he didn’t look like a king.
Haider stood on the balcony for a little while, smoking and closely observing the mood in his camp. All looked peaceful. Suddenly Rama heard footsteps behind him. Looking down, he saw Mohan signalling to him to keep quiet. Looking past Mohan, he could make out the forms of two soldiers walking in their direction, under them. He had pulled the rope up after Mohan climbed; there was no way these guards would look in their direction, not unless they were expecting trouble. The soldiers walked on, chatting among themselves. They were talking too low for Rama to make out their words, but it seemed like a topic that caused them no worry. As they walked on, under them, past them and around the side of the building, Rama turned back to the palace. Haider Ali no longer was on the balcony. No doubt he had gone to bed. There were no lights coming from his room.
Looking to either side of him, Rama could make out a little tower to his extreme right, perhaps about three hundred feet. There was probably a soldier standing in the tower with his back to Rama, but he would not be able to see anything on that night. They would have to make sure they made very little noise. Signalling for Mohan to get up, Rama told him as soon as he was standing, ‘Haider Ali is in that room over there,’ he said, pointing at the room with the balcony. ‘The one on the first floor. We need to get to that room through the ground floor because there are guards both above and below his balcony. We can go through one of the windows on this side and get up to the first floor. I think the best thing we can do is to storm through the door and bar it behind us, but if he has already barred his room then we would be in trouble. My guess is that two guards are outside the room so we must shoot them down. For this we will go up the stairs quietly, try and spot his room, and shoot them down from the mouth of the stairs. We will have to do this at the same time, and then we can run in. Any questions?’
Moha
n shook his head in reply. Rama gently fixed the grappling hook on to the wall and let the rope down on the other side, before sliding down the other side. Reaching the bottom, he moved aside and waited. Mohan joined him a minute later, landing very softly on the grass below. They both ran slowly along the wall till they reached the side from where they had planned to enter. They stopped for a moment and took a few deep breaths. The windows were completely dark. They definitely weren’t occupied and, considering that Haider had arrived at the fort only on the previous day, it did look like he had camped there temporarily. Rama quickly took off towards the largest window, with Mohan one step behind him. They reached the window and examined it. It was open. Climbing in, Rama waited for Mohan to follow. The room was completely bare, save for a door on the wall opposite from the window. Rama ran to this door and stood listening for signs of movement on the other side. There were none. Gently pulling the door open, Rama looked in. The lights of the torches on the walls showed that, it was empty. There were stairs to the left and to the right. He would take the one to the left so he could see Haider’s door from the mouth of the stairs.
Sprinting gently up the stairs with Mohan behind him, Rama climbed softly and kept looking up to make sure there were no guards at the top. There seemed to be none and, as Rama and Mohan reached the top stair, they could see the door of Haider’s room, with two guards standing outside. Rama was momentarily confused because he could see two more guards posted outside another room further down from the room they had assumed was Haider’s. Then he realized that the first room was more central, so his guess was that this was the more probable one. Turning to Mohan, he whispered into his ear, ‘The first set of guards is guarding Haider Ali’s room. We have to kill all four though, and pray that there are none on this side. I’ll take the one on the other side of the door both times. Keep a second arrow ready to fit into your bow as soon as we kill the first pair.’
Mohan nodded his understanding and Rama immediately pulled the crossbow and fit a bolt into the groove. He waited for Mohan to do so as they both took out second darts and placed them between their teeth. Then, taking aim, Rama and Mohan shot their crossbows simultaneously. The first pair slid to the ground, but as he fell, one of them did so with a clanking noise.
The Onus of Karma Page 14
