Vanara Page 23

  Tara screamed at her people to be alert. The Asuras were attacking against all rules of a duel. The Vanaras were busy celebrating their leader’s victory. Even the three council members were cheering. The freedom and honour of Vanaras had been protected by Baali. The Asura army descended on the arena like a storm. They smashed everything on the way. A section of the arena caught fire, perhaps deliberately set. The terrified Vanaras were scattered. Some ran to Baali, while others pushed and shoved to get away from the chaos. Tara struggled her way to reach Baali. Sugreeva was brandishing his mace at the attacking crowd, shielding Baali. Chemba was snarling at anyone who dared to come near his master. Unmindful of the din, Baali was giving his victory roar. Tara broke through the crowd and ran to Baali. His gaze fell on her and he stopped his roar midway. The Asuras had circled him. If they kill him, she would die with him, she decided.

  ‘Enough,’ Tara heard Ravana speak. The Asura king stood up, dripping wet. There were gashes around his neck where Baali had gripped him. He steadied himself, holding Baali’s shoulders.

  ‘Back off,’ Ravana commanded. The Asura army became still, but they were glaring at Baali and their arrows, spears, swords and lances pointed at her husband.

  ‘We fought face to face, as any man of honour would do.’ Ravana’s voice was even. ‘He won fair. I have no shame in admitting my defeat. That is the only honourable thing to do. And I am ready to die in his hands as per the rule of the duel. No Asura will raise even a whimper. If I have been a good leader, honour me at my time of death.’

  The arena turned silent. Ravana knelt before Baali. He whispered, ‘You won monkey. Now kill me. I assure you that no Asura would object to my death. That is my word. Don’t be sacred. Do the honourable thing.’

  ‘Why should I kill you?’ Baali asked.

  ‘The reward of defeat in a duel is death. Don’t insult my honour, monkey. Make it fast.’ For the first time in the day, Tara heard Ravana’s voice shiver. The impending death was making him sound like an ordinary man. Tara wished her husband would finish the Asura king before Ravana lost his courage and nobility. The Asura army was fuming with the shame of a dishonourable defeat at the hands of those they considered barbarians.

  ‘We are Vanaras, Ravana. The rules of humans don’t apply to us. We fight only for food, territory or mate. The beast that gets defeated is spared unless the victor wants to eat the vanquished in our world. You are free to go. Never enter our territory again,’ Baali said and walked away. Asuras parted to make way for the Vanara chief. The wolf trotted behind him.

  ‘Baali,’ Ravana called and Baali stopped in his track. ‘In that case, won’t you extend your hand to me in friendship.’

  Tara watched Baali hesitate. She didn’t want her husband to have any friendship with the Asura king. Disappointing her, Baali’s face broadened into a smile. The two men who were fighting each other a few moments before ran into each other’s embrace, sealing an eternal friendship between Vanaras and Asuras.

  Later, they watched the Asura army leave and Ravana’s flying machine whirled away and disappeared beyond the southern horizon. Tara asked Baali why he had accepted Ravana’s friendship. They were lying side by side, on their backs, in the sacred grove, under the palmyra trees. Countless stars winked at their nakedness. They had made passionate love and had run out of entreaties to exchange. Baali supported his head on his left palm and smiled at her. Running a finger through her breasts, he said, ‘Because he is an honourable man. He could have asked his army to finish us off, but he accepted his defeat and left. Such friendships are to be cherished.’

  ‘But . . . but didn’t he lace your drink?’ Tara asked, pushing away his hand from her body.

  ‘It was not Ravana who laced my drink, dear,’ Baali said and before she could reply, he kissed her fully on her lips. Tara closed her eyes and they slipped into their own world where there were no invading Asuras or jealous kin. Chemba snored near them. The night was still young.

  Tara was sleeping with her head resting on Baali’s broad chest when a blood-curdling scream woke them up.

  Chapter 32

  The scream was coming from the city. Baali and Tara scrambled up. It was yet to be dawn, but they could see from the grove that something grave was happening in the city. Had Ravana come back to launch a covert attack? Without waiting for Tara, Baali ran towards the city gates. Chemba dashed ahead of Baali. Tara ran behind him, trying to fight the panic that was gripping her. The screams got louder. They could see people running out of the fort gate. A man fell before Baali. In the flickering light of the torches from the fort gate, Tara saw that the man’s head had an ugly gash. The man died in Baali’s arms. More men were running out, with their limbs cut, face smashed, bleeding from everywhere. Chasing them, a hideous creature ran out of the fort, wielding an axe that was dripping with blood. Baali ran towards the monster. Tara screamed at Baali to stop, to be careful.

  The monster swung its axe at Baali. He ducked, and Tara saw the axe had missed Baali’s head by a whisker. Chemba sprang at the throat of monster and got stuck by the blunt end of the axe. It lay whimpering a few feet away. Tara rushed to the injured wolf. It was trying to get up, but its right hind leg seemed injured. Tara dragged away a struggling, growling Chemba from where Baali and the monster were fighting.

  The monster attacked Baali with vigour. He dove away from the arc of the axe which smashed on the ground and got stuck for a moment. Baali sprang at the monster and slammed it to the ground. Its axe flew from its hand and clanged near Tara’s feet. The monster tried to gouge Baali’s eyes. Baali punched the monster in its face. They rolled on the ground, each trying to overpower the other. Tara took the axe but wasn’t sure how to use it without hurting Baali. Despite her efforts, Chemba broke free and limbed around the duelling pair, trying to snap at the monster’s throat. It growled and yelped and smacked the monster with its paws.

  A hand took the axe from her. It was Sugreeva. She felt scared. Somehow the axe looked more dangerous in Sugreeva’s hands than in the monster’s. Sugreeva circled the fighting pair, carefully aiming his move. Tara stood terrified. Sugreeva found his gap and he jumped into fray. In a fluid move, he had caught the hair of the monster in his grip and the sharp edge of the axe was in its throat. Baali stood up, dusting his hands.

  ‘Well done, brother,’ Baali said smiling. The monster was panting and puffing. Sugreeva dragged the monster for a few feet and made it kneel on the floor. The axe was still in its throat. Chemba crouched before the monster, ready to spring if it moved. More people had gathered to see the captured monster. ‘An Asura’-Tara heard people whispering.

  ‘Who’re you?’ Baali asked, kneeling on one leg before the monster. The Asura spat on Baali’s face. Baali smacked him across his ears.

  ‘I’ll kill you all, kill all Vanaras,’ the Asura hissed.

  ‘Ravana sent you?’ Sugreeva asked.

  The Asura spat again. ‘Ravana, the cheat. He promised revenge for my Dundubhi’s loss. I invited him to invade your bloody city. And he made friends with monkey men.’

  Tara saw Sugreeva’s face becoming pale.

  ‘Dundubhi?’ Baali asked.

  ‘Dundubhi. He was my brother. My prized bull. You people stole him. You monkey killed him.’

  ‘Stole?’ Baali asked, confused. ‘My brother won it in a competition at Asura Mayavi’s place.’

  ‘I am Mayavi. There was no competition-’

  Tara saw Sugreeva raise the axe. She screamed, and it distracted Sugreeva. The axe missed Mayavi’s head by a whisker and Sugreeva lost balance. Mayavi took off, screaming in fear. Sugreeva ran behind him, wielding the axe.

  ‘Tara, I will come back with Mayavi. I’ll catch him alive,’ Baali said to her, as he ran behind Sugreeva. Chemba limped behind its master. She saw them vanish into darkness.

  With trepidation, she waited for them to return. When they hadn’t come back by noon, she became worried. She had to plan for the funeral of six men and a woman hacked to death by Ma
yavi. There were more than a dozen injured in his attack. Nala speculated that Mayavi might have come with Ravana’s army and gained entrance to the fort. When Ravana went away after the truce, he might have stayed behind to take revenge. Tara regretted Baali’s decision to allow all the Asuras inside the fort. She had advised him against it, but he had brushed her concerns away. By evening, Hanuman had come, and she broke down before him. It was difficult to face the family members of the slain men. The woman who died had a toddler and she found it impossible to face the bereaved husband. She felt they had failed as rulers. Hanuman pacified the mourning members with stories about how the soul never dies and death is like the soul changing the soiled clothes. Tare thought bitterly whether such advice would have satisfied her had her loved ones died. Even after nightfall, there was no sign of Baali and Sugreeva. Hanuman promised to go in search of them in the morning. Tara spent a sleepless night, worrying about her husband.

  Two days passed and there was no news of Baali, Sugreeva or even Hanuman who had gone in search of them. Ruma kept cursing her misfortune about being married to the family. She blamed Tara for her husband’s absence. She never said anything to Tara’s face. She would talk to herself, ensuring that Tara was within earshot. Ruma was getting on the already strained nerves of Tara. In the absence of Baali and Sugreeva, the council members had started asserting their powers. A crisis was looming ahead as the food stock had vanished after extending hospitality to the invading Asura army. The wolves of hunger were at the gates of Kishkinda. Tara wanted to resume agriculture. The council objected saying Vana Nara faith was against farming. ‘One should not hurt the mother earth,’ they argued.

  In the absence of Baali and Sugreeva, Tara was forced to call the meeting of the council. Rishabha rudely told Tara not to interfere in the governance of the city. His remark about woman’s place being in the kitchen made Nala angry and led to a heated exchange of words between the young architect and Rishabha. They almost came to blows. Tara didn’t want another crisis in the city when she had so much to worry about. She apologized to the council and chided Nala. She said she would abide by their decisions and she was trying to help them in absence of her husband and Sugreeva. She knew her limitations as a woman. That assuaged the bruised egos of the old men, but Nala stormed out of the council chamber. She was able to persuade them to get yam planted on the dry riverbed. In twenty-one days, they may get some harvest that would help feed old people and children at least. She was thankful to small victories and came out of the council chamber with some relief. She knew she had to sort out another problem. Nala would be sulking. She went in search of him and found him sitting alone near the sacred grove.

  Tara’s attempts to pacify him were met with a stoic silence. She knew he felt betrayed. He had fought for her and she had not stood by him, he told her when she coaxed him to speak. She took his hands in hers and said, ‘We must hold the city together, friend. They won’t want a woman ordering them around. We’re still the people of forest. I’m worried for Baali. I don’t want to fight with the elders for such petty things, at least not now. Nala, I thought you’d understand.’

  Nala was embarrassed. He apologized and despite herself, Tara cried. She was feeling vulnerable and lonely. She missed Baali. Nala thought she was crying because she was hurt by the way he behaved. He kept on saying sorry repeatedly. She lost her temper and snapped at him, ‘Donkey, I am not crying because you were playing the coy bride. I miss my husband. How can men be so thick?’ Like a late blooming flower, a grin appeared on Nala’s face. He started walking towards the river.

  ‘Where’re you going?’ Tara asked.

  ‘I’ll come back only with Baali,’ Nala said. She rushed to him and caught his wrist. ‘I’ll have to send someone to bring you back in a couple of days, if you go. Hanuman will bring my Baali back.’

  Nala stared at her. ‘You insulted me. I’m going.’

  She caught him by his ears and brought him under the palmyara tree. ‘You’re going nowhere.’

  ‘What’ll I do here? Fight with you?’ Nala smiled, rubbing his ears.

  ‘You’ll plant some yams. You’ll make me equipment to till the soil. Do whatever you’re good at, my sweet fool. You’ll be lost in the jungle. And though you create more troubles than I can solve, I must admit you’re my only friend left in Kishkinda,’ Tara said.

  ‘Admit you can’t do anything without me,’ Nala said as they walked back. He talked about his admiration for Baali and his great victory against the Asura king Ravana. There was no warrior in the world who could beat Baali and Nala wondered why he chose a fool like Tara when he could have had any princess or even Apsaras from the heaven. Tara said she was an Apsara and Baali himself had said it to her many times. Nala howled with laughter and said if Apsaras looked like Tara he would prefer a Rakshasi anytime. Tara wished him to be married to Soorpanakha, the sister of Ravana, who was notorious for her promiscuousness. They bantered and pulled each other’s legs like old friends. Tara felt as if some weight had come off her heavy heart. What would she do without friends like Nala? As they reached the cave palace, Tara saw Hanuman waiting for them. She ran to him and as she reached, she tried to read his face. Hanuman remained calm and stoic. She stood before him, her heart pounding furiously in her ribs.

  ‘Nothing to worry, daughter,’ Hanuman said. ‘I met Baali and Sugreeva. Mayavi has vanished somewhere. They are searching for him. Baali said he would come only with Mayavi.’

  Tara sighed in relief. She smiled, though a drop of tear escaped her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. Hanuman said, ‘You look tired.’

  ‘The council members have been making her life tough,’ Nala said.

  ‘Why don’t you go to your father’s home, daughter? I’m sure Vaidya would be pleased to see his daughter.’ Hanuman smiled. ‘If you trust me, I shall take care of the affairs of the city for a few days.’

  Tara pondered over the idea. She didn’t want to stay in Kishkinda where everything reminded her of Baali. Besides, she missed her father. It had been a long time. She had never visited her home after the marriage. Hanuman’s offer to take care of Kishkinda’s affairs was a relief to her. She decided to visit her father.

  By next dawn, she was ready to go to Sushena’s hut and was excited about the prospect. She wished things would be the same and her childhood would remain preserved there, pristine and intact. As Hanuman was seeing her off, she asked him something that was nagging her, ‘How were Baali and Sugreeva?’

  ‘They were fine,’ Hanuman answered, frowning.

  ‘Were . . . were they friendly with each other?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘No . . . nothing,’ Tara said. She had started worrying when she saw the expression on Hanuman’s face.

  ‘As you guessed, I sensed some strain in their relationship. Baali was accusing Sugreeva of lying about Dundubhi and despite Sugreeva’s repeated pleas, Baali was insisting that there would be a trial at Kishkinda once they were back. But I think there is nothing to worry. It happens in every home, between most siblings. Go in peace, daughter. They are happy. All three of them, including that red wolf.’

  Tara took his blessings and started her journey. When she reached her home unannounced, her father was ecstatic. His happiness was a treat for her eyes. He enquired about her husband and when she said that Baali and Sugreeva had gone to hunt down an evil man, he remarked there was no need to hunt for evil, it resides in every heart just like God. Tara said philosophising was a sure sign of getting old. Sushena grinned and she noticed he was missing a few teeth. When she entered the hut, she was filled with guilt. The room looked unmade, there was dust in the corners and her father’s clothes, a pair of dhotis and four angavastras, lay crumpled in a corner unwashed. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling. The thatch had withered and sunlight that filtered through the holes made curious patterns on the floor. She felt sad about how poor her father was. She was living in luxury, as a Maharani, and her father was living alone, in this hut that could c
ollapse anytime. Trying to suppress the heavy feeling of guilt, she asked whether he had breakfast.

  He stared at her as if not comprehending and she remembered they used to eat only once in a day. She went to the hearth in the corner, which she had got made through Nala at every home. The hearth looked unused. She frightened off a cat which was sleeping in the ashes that were months old.