Vanara Page 8

  Tara was startled by a sudden slap on her shoulders. She turned and found herself in the arms of her friend, Swayamprabha. Swayamprabha was brought to her father’s care four years ago by Kinnara tribesmen who had seen her wandering about in the forests bordering the Asura kingdom of Ravana in the deep south. When the Kinnara had found her, the girl was unable to talk and had burn marks all over her body. Someone had left her for dead. The travelling Kinnara tribe had taken the half-dead girl with them and brought her to Sushena’s hut. It had taken almost two years of rigorous treatment to bring the girl back to normal life. She never talked about her past and no one knew what her tribe was, except that she too was a slave. For Tara, who was badly missing the brothers, she had become a dear friend. Swayamprabha appeared to be the same age as Tara, though she herself was not sure. She had been abused as a child slave in a Yaksha nobleman’s household, but when the Asura army under Ravana overran Lanka and the south of the subcontinent, the Yakshas had run away to the north under the leadership of Kubera. Most of the slaves were butchered before they left and Swayamprabha’s parents might have been among the thousands who were killed by their masters. Those slaves who managed to survive were captured by Asura noblemen and put to use along with the bulls and cows they had captured from the Yakshas. It was a miracle that the girl had survived. Since no one knew what her tribe was, the Vana Nara tribe never truly accepted her. She grew up in Sushena’s household as a dear friend and sister to Tara, who called her Prabha.

  ‘I can sense the anticipation,’ Prabha said pinching Tara’s cheeks. Tara pushed her away.

  ‘Everyone is waiting for them, not just me,’ Tara said, walking towards the edge of the river. The waterfall was just a narrow ribbon of water, reluctantly flowing down the grey rocks. A myna was bathing in the little water that had pooled in a rock crevice.

  Prabha caught up with her. ‘Both of them look alike?’

  Tara blushed but hid it with a smile. Then she chided herself. She was not sure how the brothers would behave with her. They were the first ones to get some education from the tribe. Why should they care about a poor Vaidya’s daughter?

  ‘You choose which of the brothers you want. Whoever you don’t choose, I would take. Is it a deal?’ Prabha put out her hand. Tara slapped it away, ‘Fool, why should they care for us?’

  ‘Hmmm, let me think. Why should those two boys care for us? For one, we’re beautiful. Though you’re not as beautiful as me, you may pass muster if they see you alone. Two, we’re intelligent and smart. Though you’re not as intelligent and smart as me, you may . . .’

  ‘Enough—smart, intelligent, beautiful . . . Tell me, how are you going to feed the multitudes who are going to attend the marriage feast? And what dowry would they be asking? Who would pay for all these? My father?’

  Prabha hushed, ‘Why marry? We will elope with the brothers. We will go into deep jungle and live like animals. Hunt, eat and make love, and think about nothing else.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Tara smiled, ‘You think dirty all the time.’

  ‘Dirty?’ Prabha poked Tara’s cheeks. ‘Who talked about sex, dirty girl? I talked about love—the divine love of gods. And some lusty love of Asuras; hey that too is needed. And our father would have saved some money too.’

  Tara blushed, ‘Oh, what a pure soul and how noble-minded.’

  ‘Thank you. At last, you’ve divined my genius and nobility.’

  ‘It isn’t that we’re the last women on earth. They would have plenty to choose from. The council of elders will be standing in queue to offer them their daughters, nieces and sisters. And–’ Tara was interrupted by a loud commotion.

  ‘It seems you’ve guessed right, Tara. The council of elders are here.’ Prabha said. The commotion grew in volume and people hurried towards the hut. For a moment, dark thoughts possessed Tara and she was scared for her father. She ran towards the hut, praying that her father was alright. She sighed in relief when she saw Sushena standing in the courtyard. He was pleading with the elders. The elders, Kesari, Jambavan and Rishabha were shouting at the same time.

  ‘You can’t allow them here, Sushena,’ Kesari’s voice was stern.

  ‘How can you think of arranging a welcome to those who have been ex-communicated from the tribe?’ Rishabha raised his voice. There were angry murmurs among the crowd.

  ‘Everyone is welcome to a Vaidya’s home,’ Sushena’s voice was serene.

  ‘Not those who are thrown out of the tribe,’ Jambavan said.

  ‘They’ve come after gaining knowledge. A first among our people. We should celebrate the achievement of our boys,’ an old man cried from the crowd.

  ‘Who dares to question the council?’ Rishabha raised a clenched fist and roared. ‘Fools, listen to this. That eunuch and his two boys aren’t to be allowed to set their foot in Vana Nara land. They went to our enemies to learn.’

  ‘Mahabali is no one’s enemy. Had treated everyone as equal when he ruled. There were no Dasas or slaves during his time,’ Sushena said.

  ‘It’s sad that you’re talking like a common man, Vaidya,’ Jambavan said. ‘We have our traditions, we have our honour, we have our beliefs. When someone in our tribe goes astray, it’s our duty to protect the rest of the members from their evil influence. Besides, those boys had assaulted the holy birds. The council has decided that we don’t want them.’

  ‘Nor do we want that drunkard eunuch,’ Rishabha said, and in the next moment, he had fallen flat on the floor.

  ‘Your father is the drunkard, whoreson,’ Riksarajas stood with his fists on his waist. There was a collective intake of breath. No one had seen Riksarajas arrive with Baali and Sugreeva.

  Prabha nudged Tara. ‘Both of them look alike. I’m game for any of them. You choose fast,’

  ‘You kicked me? You kicked me?’ Rishabha was trembling with rage.

  ‘You needed not repeat everything. I’m not deaf,’ Riksarajas said and there was a smattering of laughter from the crowd.

  ‘Guards, teach these expelled criminals a lesson,’ Kesari cried.

  ‘Boys, teach them what you’ve learned,’ Riksarajas said and Baali and Sugreeva bowed. Prabha saw Sugreeva smile at Tara and nudged her, but Tara’s gaze was on Baali. Baali was standing with his legs spread, flexing his huge arms. Riksarajas offered his hand to Rishabha. ‘Come, let us sit in the veranda and watch how your guards are going to get bashed up.’

  Rishabha ignored him and got up, grunting.

  ‘I have excellent Arrack that I have brought from the Asura land. Care to share a drink?’ Riksarajas called out, fishing out a leather carrier from his bundle. He opened it and smelled it. ‘Ah . . . brewed with cloves and cardamom of the Asura land. You don’t know what you’re missing, Rishabha. Alright, if you don’t want, you go and jump into the river. Kesari, Jambavan, why are all of you glaring at me? Come, let us watch the boys bash up your guards. Guess, I must drink alone today. Bloody monkey men . . .’ Riksarajas walked towards the hut and paused before Tara. ‘Ah, you’ve grown beautiful, daughter. You’re Tara, right? You’re apt for my son.’

  Tara blushed. Prabha waited expectantly, but Riksarajas hummed a song and walked past them. ‘Which son, uncle?’ Prabha called out, but the eunuch went away without answering. ‘Which son, my friend?’ Prabha teased Tara.

  A loud cheer arose from the crowd. A guard was flying in the air. Baali and Sugreeva stood back to back, crouching like tigers. From the hut, Riksarajas’s voice rose over the din, ‘Show them, boys. Teach the monkeys how to fight.’

  Tara watched with baited breath as the guards attacked the brothers. Baali and Sugreeva fought in a co-ordinated fashion, each anticipating the other’s move. Together, they were a formidable combination. Sugreeva gambolled with an amazing grace, while Baali surprised with his power. They were showing the prowess in the ancient Asura martial art of Kalari and the Vana Nara guards were no match for them. When it ended so one-sided and quick, there was a disappointed reaction from the crowd.

&n
bsp; ‘You almost peeled the skin off my hand,’ Prabha said, showing her hand that had nail marks where Tara had gripped. Tara mumbled an apology and turned away, not wanting to show her embarrassed face to her friend. She cursed herself for blushing for no reason.

  Riksarajas ran past them, howling and shouting, and embraced Baali and Sugreeva. He raised their hands and shouted, ‘Who dares to stop us from stepping here? Is this land your father’s property? See, I have stepped here before,’ Riksarajas stamped down. ‘I’m stepping now and will step again and again. Let me see which monkey stops me.’

  People laughed at his antics. Jambavan stepped forward. Riksarajas bowed to him. ‘I have good Arrack from the Asura land. Care to share . . .’

  Jambavan smacked Riksarajas across his face and screamed, ‘Enough of your antics, monkey!’

  Baali rushed to Jambavan with clenched fist, but Riksarajas stopped him, ‘Oh, no son. He is an old monkey. Respect his age and spare him. If you still feel the itch to beat someone up, beat Rishabha. That monkey deserves all the beating.’

  Jambavan roared, ‘Enough. Riksarajas, I’m warning you for the last time. I order you and your louts to go away. I had argued in the council to be lenient to your boys, but they’ve proved to be hooligans of the first order. We don’t want them here.’

  Riksarajas exploded with rage, ‘You don’t want them here, old monkey? Does this forest belong to your father? We’re only a few free Vana Naras left. Majority of our people are slaves or Dasas, slogging like donkeys in the homes of Devas or Asuras. You’ve any idea of how your brethren live in their mansions? Even animals are treated better than them. People think seeing Vanaras is a sin. I got the two boys who showed some intelligence to study. Do you think I did it for my personal gain? Do you think it was easy for us in Asura land? Mahabali might talk about equality, but he is no longer the ruler. When it comes to treating us like worms, Asuras are no different from Devas. Every moment was a humiliation. My boys had to work like slaves after the study hours. I have seen them being made to sit at the far end of the class, so far that other students aren’t polluted. They had to wash everyone’s clothes, do odd jobs for them and be the errand boys. I slogged, carrying the night soil on my head, cleaning the drains, mopping floors and such menial things, but what kept me going was the thought that my boys were studying. Do you think it was fun for me to be ordered around, whipped, kicked and screamed at? Do you think it was easy on my boys? I’m proud of them, for they’re better than anyone else. Mahabali himself told me so, when we were leaving. He said my boys are as good as his best students so far and do you monkeys have any idea who he was referring to? Ravana, you foolish monkeys, Mahabali said my boys are as good as the Asura emperor. And when we come here, hoping everyone would be happy to have some learned boys among our group, you come armed with your stupid tradition. Burn your tradition that has kept all of us slaves, untouchables. Burn those traditions that make people calls us monkeys.’

  ‘Have you finished your rant, eunuch?’ Kesari interjected. Riksarajas turned towards him, but Baali restrained his father.

  Baali joined his palms in salutation and the crowd listened in awe to his commanding speech. ‘We didn’t come here to fight. We have no intention of staying in rickety huts inside the jungle. I’m going to build a new city that will rival those of Asuras and Devas. A city for Vanaras. A city by the river Pampa where seven palmyras stand guard. We have come to invite everyone to the city of Kishkinda that we’re going to build.’

  Tara had tears in her eyes. This was not the boy who she had teased and played with. Here was a man, who could be a King. Nay, here was a man who acted as if he had conquered the world. His confidence was unsettling. He towered over everyone. Tara wished she had the courage to rush forward and hug him.

  Kesari said, ‘My dear Vana Nara people, you’ve heard the arrogant voice of the newcomers. They’re demanding that we change our age-old traditions. They’re inviting us to a city that doesn’t exist. We aren’t Asuras to live in majestic cities; we aren’t Devas to live in luxurious homes. We’re Vana Naras. We’re low-castes, Dasas and God has decreed how we’re supposed to live. If we defy what has been decreed by God, his wrath will fall on us.’

  ‘God appeared and told you that you remain a monkey forever. Eh? You fool!’ Riksarajas was straining to get free from the clutches of Sugreeva who was restraining him.

  Jambavan said, ‘The council’s decision is final. The eunuch and his two arrogant sons can’t enter Vana Nara territory. No one will give any help in whatever they plan to build. No one will even talk to them. And Vaidya Sushena will pay a fine of hundred cowries for allowing the outcastes to step on his land.’

  Tara could not believe her ears. How was her father at fault? Her father hadn’t invited them, nor had he arranged a welcome party. People had come on their own accord and most of them were his father’s patients at some point of time. Her father’s doors were always open to anyone, irrespective of their caste, creed and social status. How dare they treat him like a criminal?

  She rushed to the courtyard, but before she could say something, she saw Sugreeva flipping a fist-sized cloth bundle at Rishabha.

  ‘Take them and swallow them, you greedy pigs,’ Riksarajas cried, still struggling to break free from Sugreeva’s grip, ‘That was the money my boys had saved working their backs off.’

  Baali started walking away and Sugreeva dragged a screaming, cursing Riskarajas towards the river. People had begun disbursing. Tara stood watching them go away. She hadn’t even spoken a word to her friends. She pursed her lips tight, lest she cry, but her eyes welled up. She hated her people from the bottom of her heart. She was sick of the traditions that strangled the aspirations of all. Prabha came and stood near her, without speaking a word.

  ‘I don’t know how I’m going to pay back that boy.’

  Tara heard her father’s worried voice and that broke her restraint. She would have finished her entire race, had she had the power to do so at that time.

  Chapter 12

  It was back-breaking work and when the initial enthusiasm had worn off, Sugreeva started resenting the grind. No one had followed them after Baali’s grand announcement. Undeterred, Baali had started clearing the undergrowth and levelling the land by himself. Riksarajas sat under the banyan tree, sampled toddy, arrack and gooseberry wine, and gave advice on how a great city had to be built. He knew as much about city-building as he knew about the sacred books of the Brahmins—almost nothing. However, that did not deter him from forming an opinion on everything.

  It fell on Sugreeva to break the rocks and tug them away. They had learned the basics of building in Mahabali’s ashram in Patala, but Sugreeva soon found out that bookish knowledge was not of much practical use. He hinted at this to his brother, but Baali was adamant. After a few lectures by his brother on how one must believe in the strength and skill of one’s arms, Sugreeva gave up asking his brother for help. He resented doing the hard labour. He had not spent six years of his life poring over books to work like a common slave. He had travelled with his brother to many towns and cities of both Asura and Deva land and had stood in awe of their size and beauty. Asuras swore by the school of Mayan and Devas had Vishwakarma’s disciples who designed and nurtured majestic cities in their lands. The biggest structure Vana Naras had built was the thatched hut of Kesari, which had two rooms instead of the standard one room huts of common Vana Naras. And here was his brother wanting to build a city rivalling that of Ravana’s Lanka or Karthya Veerarjuna’s Mahishmathi. Here, in the middle of nowhere, where jackals and mongoose wandered, he wanted to build a city for slave people. The monkey city of Kishkinda. His tribe members would sit on the other side of the river and watch them slog. They would smoke cannabis and mock the foolishness of the three expelled men. Sugreeva’s skin would scald with shame. He was working like an uneducated labour, a Dasa and his people were making fun of his fate.

  Baali spent more time nurturing the seven palmyra trees that stood by
the river. When asked, he would say he was making a sacred grove. They had seen such groves in Asura lands and for some reason, it had caught Baali’s fancy. Sugreeva thought them to be too dark and sinister. For Asuras, living in cities, groves gave a feel of the forest. Vana Naras were a forest tribe and Sugreeva could not understand the need for a special forest. But once Baali was determined to get something done, no one could stop him. Sugreeva wanted Baali to help him break the stones and lay the foundation, but Baali was busy planting flowering plants and trees, and watering them in the sizzling summer heat. The grove that had started deepening stood incongruous with the surrounding with the patch of greenery in the otherwise arid surroundings. The forest was yearning for rains and the river had shrunk to a small stream. The breeze carried the rusty heat of rocks rather than the fragrance of flowers and dust swirled across brown grass.

  Had it not been for Tara, Sugreeva would have preferred not to come back to this godforsaken forest. Our people are fit to be slaves and nothing else, Sugreeva thought as he slammed the hammer upon an obdurate rock for the umpteenth time. The head of the hammer broke loose from the wooden handle and was thrown away. Sugreeva cursed and was rewarded with another bout of advice from his brother on the virtue of hard work and why one should never give up. He could stand the scorching sun that baked his back, but he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stand another piece of advice from his brother. He hadn’t even talked to Tara yet. Why the hell did he come here? Riksarajas’s off tune song rose in the air and Sugreeva strained to contain his rising temper. Baali asked him why he was not fixing the hammer and returning to work. Why did God create elder brothers? Sugreeva groaned as he picked up the hammer handle.