Vanara Read online

  Tara was shocked. ‘Why . . . why should you go away? What happened?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Prabha shrugged, ‘I am going to my mother’s village. Thanks for everything you did. Tell father that I will come and visit him.’

  ‘Are you crazy, Prabha?’ Tara shook her friend’s shoulders. ‘Tell me, what happened?’

  ‘I am a fool, Tara,’ Prabha said with a teary smile, ‘I did what no girl should do. I shamelessly proposed to Sugreeva.’

  ‘And?’ Tara asked, dreading the answer.

  ‘He said he can love only one woman,’ Prabha said, looking away. ‘And that is you, Tara.’

  Chapter 15

  Sugreeva was lying flat on his chest, waiting for the right moment to attack. He looked around to see whether his followers had taken the positions as he had instructed. To his left was Suhotra, a lad of sixteen. He was the most enthusiastic of all when Sugreeva told them the plan. He gestured to Suhotra to keep his head down. On his right, a few feet above him and hidden behind the bush, was Gaja, a man in his late forties and a father of three grown-up sons. Vijaya was stationed at the edge of the cliff where River Narmada entered the gorge. They were all Vanara men whom he had chosen carefully from the labourers. Nala had accompanied Sugreeva but had refused to participate in this mission, which he called robbery. Sugreeva knew there was no point arguing with the mad architect and left him to wait in the cave they had slept in the previous day. He had forty men, armed with clubs and crude spears. He hoped that would be enough.

  Sugreeva had set the ambush point carefully. They had travelled for almost two months to the north, crossing raging rivers and hiking difficult mountain paths. He had not said goodbye to his brother. He was sure Baali wouldn’t have let him free. He had left a message with a shepherd boy to convey to Baali that he had gone to find some funds to pay the wages. The freedom he felt after leaving the oppressive love of his brother was exhilarating. He was doing something on his own, without Baali instructing him at every step. For a fleeting second, his thoughts went to Tara and he smiled. It was the first time Tara had asked him something and he was determined to do it. He was sure his brother would stop considering him a child and understand his worth once he arranged for funds.

  Building a city was an expensive affair. The cities of Asuras or Devas were built by kings who had huge armies, treasuries with gold and silver, granaries overflowing with grain. If they ran out of money, they had the option of raising their taxes and if that failed, looting the neighbouring country. They were in constant war and the huge tracts of irrigated lands, busy ports and trade routes gave them deep pockets and manpower to build majestic cities. The Asuras, who held the southern coastal towns, had the added advantage of ports and forests that yielded spices, valued by the barbarians of the west. Baali was trying to build a city in wilderness. Vanaras had neither a kingdom, nor any trade route. This was a fact that his brother refused to acknowledge. Sugreeva concluded that the only way one could raise funds quickly was to rob those who had money.

  There was a reason he had travelled so far to the banks of Narmada. The Dandaka forests where Vanaras lived ended at the southern banks of Narmada and beyond the mighty river lay the city of Mahishmathi. It was ruled by the robber king, Karthya Veerarjuna. He was neither a Deva or Asura, but of mixed-race. Arjuna, as he was called by many, had built a dazzling city with the loot his gang of five hundred, which he called his hands, had acquired. Once the city was built, trade ships frequented the city, adding to the wealth. Arjuna had conquered the ancient village of Nagas and hanged the king of Nagas, Karkotaka. He had butchered most of the male inhabitants and made the women and children slaves. He served as a buffer between the Deva kingdoms of the north and the Asura kingdoms of the south. He was feared by all and in his cruelty he did not discriminate between Devas and Asuras. He entertained himself by stoning rishis to death or by feeding them to his pet tigers.

  Sugreeva wanted to ambush one of the trade ships that left from Mahishmathi to the distant eastern sea. He had marked his hiding places in the deep forests of Vindhyas where he could lay holed up if Arjuna’s men came after him. He had even found a few merchants who were ready to buy the loot. It was a risky proposition and Sugreeva lay in wait, relishing the thought of how he would impress Tara by the tales of his valour. He was going to contribute to the creation of Kishkinda in an effective manner. When he returned, he would demand to have a say in the city-building. He could have those fountains, the arched gateways, the elaborately carved balconies and sculptures. He could lay out gardens that would rival those of Ravana’s Lanka. He could even think of having a golden temple for Ayyan. He could get the choicest Apasaras from Deva Kingdoms who would entertain the Vanaras with their sensuous dances. In the street corners, he would place musicians who would play the Nagaswaras. He would get Kinnaras who could play their Veena by the river ghat. He would get a carved stone Mandap built at the middle of the Pampa river, a place where he could sit with Tara and enjoy the sunset. The more he thought about the future, the more exciting it seemed.

  Vijaya gestured with his hand and suddenly the entire Vanara gang became alert. Sugreeva let out a deep breath, but that did nothing to calm his frenzied heartbeat. The tip of the ship’s sail was visible above the rock where Vijaya perched and soon, the ship came to view. Sugreeva counted twenty oars. The ship was loaded with goods. He whistled softly and on cue, Vijaya jumped and caught the sail. He slid down and landed on the deck. The captain of the ship was surprised, and before he could react Vijaya brought down his club on the Captain’s head. He missed, and the club smashed the captain’s shoulders instead. Captain collapsed on the deck, screaming. The guards in the ship were too shocked to react for a moment. Vijaya brought his club down again, but the captain caught it with his uninjured hand and prised it away from the Vanara. Sugreeva cursed. More guards were rushing to the deck. They surrounded Vijaya, who was shivering with fear now. The ship was drifting in the water. The oarsmen had left their positions and had rushed to the deck, waving their heavy oars.

  Sugreeva gave orders to attack. He jumped first and almost missed the ship. He was fortunate not to have fallen between the ship and the jarred rocks. He waved his club and roared. Why were his people not following him? The guards attacked him, and he swung his club like one possessed. He was putting the Kalari training he had received at Patala to good use. The first two guards who attacked him were dead before they had hurled their spear. An arrow pierced Sugreeva’s shoulders. The ship hit the cliff side and screeched. The rudder might have hit a rock and got stuck. The ship started turning and soon got stuck in the narrow cliff. It got grounded and it squeaked and shivered as the roaring river tried to escape through the small gaps it left in the gorge.

  Sugreeva’s show of valour inspired his men. The stationary ship might also have helped in assuaging their falling courage. His two score men soon joined him in the battle. Before long, Sugreeva’s men had killed half the men and flung them into the river. About twenty men surrendered. Sugreeva ordered his men to strip the ship of all valuable possessions. The merchants watched helplessly as Vanaras carried away all the valuables from the ship. When the last of the boxes was transported, Sugreeva ordered his men to butcher those who had surrendered. It was too much of a risk to leave them alive. He climbed back to the cliff and counted the number of boxes which had valuable silk clothes, gems, fresh water pearls, lapiz lazuli and other precious things. The hunt was worth the life of six men from his side. He ignored the pleas of the merchants who were being clubbed to death. His boys wanted to avenge the death of their gang members and a true leader should never stand in the way of their anger, he reasoned. Besides, he had a city to build and a woman to impress. What were a few deaths for a great cause?

  By the evening, his men had completed taking the inventory and Sugreeva was proud of his achievement. He never knew earning a fortune was easy. His brother was a fool. Baali never knew what Sugreeva was capable of. He ordered his men to carry the loot on their b
ack and they started towards their hiding place. Sugreeva wanted to see Nala’s face when he showed him what he had brought back. The city-builder must listen to him from now on. He was funding the city and it would be built as per his wish. The train of robbers hiked through thick forest, weaving their difficult path through thorny shrubs and thick undergrowth. Some Vanaras were humming. Some were speculating how rich they had become with just a day’s work. Birds had started roosting in the trees and the breeze had cooled down. Sugreeva walked like a king, leading his gang of adoring men, past the meadows that had deer grazing, over the hills that had streams gurgling, cutting across the paths of elephants and bison. Someone started a song and soon, Sugreeva found himself singing along. The moon rose over the mountains, washing the forest with a silver paint. The air became cool and rich with the fragrance of Nishagandhi.

  When they reached the cave, the air was almost freezing, and they longed to huddle around a fire, have a steamy gruel and share some old tales. They found that the cave was lit, but Nala was standing outside.

  When Sugreeva’s gang reached near the cave mouth, Nala gestured them to be silent. Sugreeva was bursting to tell him how much they had earned. Nala said in a voice filled with awe, ‘Hanuman, son of Kesari, has come.’

  Sugreeva knew trouble had come seeking him.

  Chapter 16

  ‘Why should we be worried?’ Sugreeva was getting irritated. They had spent the entire night listening to Hanuman. The son of Kesari had left home in his childhood. He had travelled far and wide and was returning from the Himalayas after spending many years in the ashram of different saints. Sugreeva looked at the sacred ashes on his forehead, the Rudraksha chain on his neck and the sacred thread across his body. What was this Vanara thinking of himself? Is he a Brahmin to wear the thread?

  ‘There is nothing to worry, if we act wisely’ Hanuman said with a smile. That did not ease the tension in the room. If Hanuman was telling the truth, they were trapped.

  ‘What you did was wrong, Sugreeva. One should not covet what is not ours. You should give your plunder back to Karthy Veerarjuna . . .’

  ‘It is not wrong to rob a robber . . .’ Sugreeva replied.

  ‘Then what is the difference between you and him, Sugreeva?’ Hanuman asked with a smile.

  Sugreeva felt irritated. He could sense his companions were wavering in their resolution to continue the life he had encouraged them to lead.

  ‘The difference is, Arjuna has built a great city. He is a king and he lives in luxury, while I am an untouchable tribe, lowest of the lowly caste and starving.’

  ‘Do you think if you built Kishkinda on a foundation of Adharma, it would last? Nothing built on sin lasts, my son.’

  Sugreeva slapped his thighs and sprung up. The last thing he wanted was unsolicited advice. The Vanara had come uninvited to create trouble.

  ‘Nala, call the merchants and ask them to buy these goods. Hurry and take the money to my brother. The city will be built as per my wish too. We will have to discuss this before you go. Assure my brother that more will be coming and not to spare any expenses to build the city of Kishkinda. It is high time the Vanaras too live in dignity and not as slaves.’

  ‘You are–.’ Hanuman tried to say something, but Sugreeva cut him off.

  ‘We have to find ways to escape, friends. There is no time to discuss what is right and what is wrong. Nothing is wrong if we are doing it for the greater good. I did not rob a robber king for myself. I did it for the benefit of our race. Let’s have no discussion on this.’

  ‘The city is being built on weak foundations, son,’ Hanuman said with a sad smile.

  ‘Enough, son of Kesari. Your father never liked us, and you too are here to create trouble and discourage my brave friends. What Dharma are you talking about? The Dharma that kept us as slaves of Asuras and Devas? Is being Dasas forever our dharma or our cowardice? Where was Dharma when Karthya Veerarjuna plundered both Devas and Asuras, murdered sages and enslaved women? See Mahishmathi? It is standing tall and glorious. Was not that city built on Adharma? Whatever the strongman does, that is called Dharma.’

  ‘The ways of Dharma are mysterious,’ Hanuman said.

  ‘You are wearing a sacred thread like a Brahmin and attempting to talk like one. You are a pretender. No dharma saved us when we were enslaved, bought and sold like cattle.’

  ‘I am no pretender, Sugreeva. The learned men say, those who seek the Truth, only they are Brahmins. I believe I am one.’

  ‘Ah, you believe . . . But does that change the reality of life? You are still an untouchable Vana Nara and if some slavers see you, they would capture you and make you a Dasa. Your pretension of being a Brahmin is not going to help. You become a Dasa the moment you are born in a Vanara womb. Nobody would think for a moment that you have become a Brahmin just because you wear a thread and chant.’

  ‘How does what others think matter to me? I know who I am.’ Hanuman smiled.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I am who I am.’

  ‘You are exasperating. I don’t care who you are.’

  ‘You don’t even care who you are and who you could be.’

  ‘So be it. Tell me, where did you see the army of the Asura king, Ravana?’ Sugreeva asked.

  Hanuman started drawing a map with his index finger on the dirt floor of the cave. Sugreeva and his men huddled together. As Hanuman drew the position of Ravana’s army, who had secretly moved to take on Karthy Veerarjuna, Sugreeva understood his position was tenuous. He was trapped between the Asura army that was marching towards Mahishmathi on one side and the Mahishmathi army, which must be combing the jungle in search of the robbers.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Vijaya asked. Sugreeva didn’t have any answers. A cold fear descended on the Vanaras. Hanuman went back to his meditation. The rest of the gang huddled together in twos or threes to discuss their perilous situation. They spent three miserable days, not knowing what to do or what the future held. The man who had gone in search of the merchants never came back, nor did the merchants turn up. The loot, that was bundled and kept at the corner of the cave, was not touched by anyone. It was becoming a liability. The scouts that Sugreeva had sent to find out about the enemy positions, came with the disturbing news that Arjuna’s elite army of five hundred was combing the forest for the robbers. They had no clue about the army of Ravana which was stealthily moving through the forest to attack Mahishmathi.

  ‘Ravana is caught in the circle of Maya, Sugreeva. He is doomed. His Adharma will catch up with him,’ Hanuman said to Sugreeva.

  ‘When would it catch up with him?’

  ‘That, I don’t know. But one day . . .’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Hanuman was getting on Sugreeva’s wound-up nerves. Whatever be the provocation, Hanuman never lost his temper. Arguing with Hanuman was like banging one’s head against a hard rock. As the days passed and the provisions in the cave ran out, arguments broke out between the gang members. Some went out to hunt and never returned. Some came back with deer or fruits and fought like mad dogs for every morsel of food. Amid the chaos, Hanuman sat meditating. If someone gave him some fruits, he accepted with a smile. If no one cared for him and forgot to feed him, the smile never waned.

  As the days progressed, more alarming news came in. Ravana’s army had taken a detour and had used the forest path to travel further south east of Mahishmathi. It was camped now down river, by a jungle clearing. It surprised Sugreeva why Ravana had not attacked Mahishmathi and wondered what he was waiting for. He decided to investigate it himself. It was a risky proposition, but he had to do it. He took Vijaya with him and proceeded on a full moon night.

  The forest path was bathed in a buttery moonlight. It helped him avoid the use of torches. He and Vijaya kept to the shadows, and treaded carefully, not rustling the dry leaves, careful not to break any twigs. It was almost dawn when they walked past the gorge where they had ambushed Arjuna’s ship. Sugreeva was immersed in thought and didn’t see
that Vijaya had stopped. He continued walking until a small pebble hit his back. He turned, gripping his club in alarm. Vijaya was gesticulating wildly. Sugreeva looked at what he was trying to show. He could not believe his eyes. The ship they had ambushed had not drifted away. It was wedged in the narrow gorge and the small gap between the ship’s hull and the rocks on either side had been filled with slit and mud. Water trickled out from one side, while it swelled on the other and rose continuously, almost reaching the top of the cliffs. An idea was forming in his head.

  ‘How far is Ravana’s camp?’ Sugreeva asked.

  ‘Maybe three or four songs away,’ Vijaya said. Vana Nara people measured distance in the number of songs one could sing while walking before reaching the place. Sugreeva stood gazing at the swelling river. He sighed. He had no other choice.

  ‘Vijaya, can you climb down and move the ship?’

  Vijaya gulped as the risks of the task slowly sunk in. He looked fearfully at Sugreeva.

  ‘Brother–’

  ‘Fine, if you value your life more than the future of our jati, it’s fine. You go back and sleep in the cave. I’m going down.’

  ‘I . . . . . . I don’t understand Brother . . .’

  Sugreeva started climbing down the cliff on the drier side of the ship. He watched Vijaya carefully. He had no intention of climbing the whole way down. It was getting slippery and he was struggling to cling on, let alone climb down, but he had to pretend he was until Vijaya followed him. He saw the Vanara getting down gingerly. He encouraged him and praised his sincerity. Egged by Sugreeva, Vijaya climbed down. Sugreeva was at the same place where he had perched himself, a few feet from the top when Vijaya reached down.

  ‘Here, use this, son,’ Sugreeva flung his club down. It bounced on the rock with a clang and rolled away. Vijaya picked it up gingerly.

  ‘Go to the front of the ship or the rear, wherever it is narrow. Good. A little more to the corner.’