Raavan- Enemy of Aryavarta Page 16

  ‘Roar, noble Raavan,’ said Vedavati. ‘But roar in favour of dharma. Roar to protect the innocent, the poor, the needy. Be a true follower of the Mahadev. Be aggressive, but for the good of others. Be tough, but only to nurture the weak. Be fearsome, but only to fight for the virtuous. That is what Lord Rudra stood for. Follow the Lord’s example.’

  Raavan didn’t say a word.

  ‘Jai Shri Rudra,’ said Vedavati.

  ‘Jai Shri Rudra!’

  Vedavati smiled and gently let go of Raavan’s hand.

  The first step on the path for all true followers of the Mahadev is a ritual sacrifice of the ego. Raavan knew what he had to do. He kneeled in front of the seated Vedavati. Taking a deep breath, he bent his hitherto unyielding back and brought his head down to the Kanyakumari’s feet. For the first time in his life, he sought the blessings of another living person.

  Vedavati put both her hands on Raavan’s head and blessed him. ‘May you always live in dharma. May dharma always live in you.’

  Raavan drew himself up to his full six feet and three inches, and pulled out a sheet of papyrus from the pouch tied to his cummerbund. ‘Please accept this, noble Vedavati. Don’t say no.’

  For the first time, Raavan’s heart was in control as he spoke aloud that divine name. He didn’t stutter.

  ‘No to what?’ she asked.

  ‘My first act of genuine goodness.’

  ‘Why do you run yourself down like that? You have done good before. You have done good for your brother. For this village. For…’

  ‘Those were selfish acts. I protected those who were my own. Even the stuff I handed out here was meant to impress you. When I wrote and sealed this hundi, I had a selfish reason for it, but I don’t anymore. I am giving it to you because I know you will do good with it.’

  ‘Raavan, I cannot take money from you.’

  ‘It’s not for you, noble Vedavati. This is a hundi for fifty thousand gold coins, and it’s for this entire region. I know you will use it well.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Please don’t refuse. Don’t stop me in my first act of genuine kindness. I will consider it a blessing.’

  Vedavati took the hundi from Raavan’s hand, touched it to her forehead and said, ‘It is my privilege, noble Raavan. I will use it for the good of the common people.’

  ‘That means a lot to me. I intend to come back here as an arya and ask for what is due to me then.’

  ‘And it will not be denied. Prithvi and I will be honoured.’

  Raavan folded his hands together in a namaste. ‘I will take your leave now, gentle Vedavati. My blessings for your unborn child. He or she is truly lucky to have a mother like you and a father like Prithvi.’

  ‘Thank you, great Raavan.’

  Every time Vedavati said his name out loud, a pleasurable current ran through Raavan’s being. ‘Till we meet again, Vedavati. Jai Shri Rudra.’

  ‘Jai Shri Rudra.’

  As Raavan walked away from her, he felt a lightness in his being that he had never felt before. Positive energy coursed through him. Even the pain in his navel had ceased to bother him. He walked with a spring in his step, the name of the Mahadev on his lips and the Kanyakumari in his heart.

  A man with a purpose.

  A man walking with dharma.

  Neither he nor Vedavati noticed Sukarman, Shochikesh’s son, hiding behind the bushes. He had been there the entire time and had heard everything. But only four words from the conversation reverberated in his mind. Fifty thousand gold coins!

  ‘This is generous,’ said Kumbhakarna, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  ‘This is only the beginning,’ Raavan responded, a serene smile on his face.

  Kumbhakarna had never seen his brother smile as much as he had over this past week. In the seven days since Raavan had last met Vedavati, he had transformed into a new person—full of hope and enthusiasm. He had been planning how to use his immense wealth to help India. He was contemplating the conquest of a small kingdom in the Sapt Sindhu, to be set up as a model dominion for the common people

  He also wanted to build a large hospital attached to the Vaidyanath temple, which would treat poor people from across the Sapt Sindhu, free of cost. The amount he was thinking of donating was sizeable and had led to Kumbhakarna’s comment on his generosity.

  ‘Are you sure, Dada?’ asked Kumbhakarna. ‘This is a huge amount of money.’

  ‘It’s only a drop in my ocean of wealth, Kumbha. You know that. Now, take the hundi to the local moneylender and get the gold. We will donate it and then leave for Lanka. There is a lot to do and not enough time.’

  Kumbhakarna smiled and nodded. ‘Your word is my command, great devotee of the Ka… Ka… Kanyakumari.’

  Raavan punched Kumbhakarna on his arm. ‘Stop teasing me, will you!’

  Kumbhakarna was still laughing as he left the room.

  ‘Wow,’ said the moneylender. ‘Two hundis from the great Raavan on the same day.’

  Kumbhakarna took the receipt from the moneylender and put his seal on it. The moneylender would use this signed receipt and Raavan’s original hundi to get the amount reimbursed through Raavan’s closest trading office, in Magadh. And of course, earn a generous commission on the transaction.

  ‘Eighty thousand gold coins,’ continued the chatty moneylender, ‘is a lot of money for our small Vaidyanath. And all in the same day!’

  ‘And a good commission for you as well,’ said Kumbhakarna, good-humouredly.

  ‘Yes!’ beamed the moneylender. ‘I can finally buy the piece of land my wife and I have been eyeing for some time now.’

  Kumbhakarna smiled as he handed the receipt over and took the outsized bags of coins. Two soldiers from his posse of armed men picked up the bags and moved towards their bullock cart. Kumbhakarna thanked the moneylender and turned to leave.

  Then suddenly, he stopped. His sixth sense prickled.

  ‘The woman who came earlier to redeem Raavan’s other hundi,’ said Kumbhakarna. ‘Did she—’

  ‘Not a woman,’ interrupted the moneylender. ‘It was a man. He was here just an hour ago.’

  It was Prithviji then.

  ‘A very young man he was too,’ continued the moneylender.

  Kumbhakarna felt a sense of foreboding enter his heart. ‘Show me the receipt.’

  The moneylender shook his head. ‘I can’t show you the receipt. It would…’

  He stopped talking as Kumbhakarna dropped fifty gold coins on the counter and extended a hand commandingly. Without any further hesitation, the moneylender reached into the small cabinet below the counter and fished out the receipt. Kumbhakarna took one look at it, turned, and ran for his horse.

  He was soon galloping through the streets to the main stables of Vaidyanath. That was where a man would go, to hire a horse or find a place on a departing cart, if he wished to travel beyond the city limits.

  He knew he had to rush. There was little time.

  For the name on the receipt had been clearly inked: Sukarman.

  Chapter 16

  Raavan slapped Sukarman viciously across the face. ‘Did you actually think you would get away with this?’

  Kumbhakarna had reached the horse stand just in time. Sukarman and his five associates were about to leave with their ill-gained wealth. Kumbhakarna and his guards had easily overpowered the six youths and confiscated the coins they were carrying. The thieves had then been presented before Raavan.

  ‘You are lucky I am a changed man,’ growled Raavan. ‘Otherwise your tortured body would be lying here, half-dead by now.’

  Sukarman strained against his captors, looking terrified.

  Kumbhakarna gestured to the other five, who stood clustered around Sukarman. ‘Who are these men, Sukarman? I don’t recognise them. They are not from your village,’ he said.

  Sukarman was shivering now, too petrified to answer.

  ‘Let’s take him back to Todee, Dada,’ said Kumbhakarna. ‘We can let Vedavatiji decid
e what is to be done with him.’

  Raavan continued to stare at Sukarman. Despite the show of anger, he was quite in control of his emotions. At the mention of Vedavati, he felt even calmer. ‘We could, but I suspect she will forgive him. And this bastard does not deserve forgiveness.’

  Sukarman suddenly lost control of his bladder and wet himself. Raavan’s first reaction was to laugh, but then he stopped.

  A thought too painful to consider mauled its way into his consciousness. For a few seconds, he was paralysed, afraid even to acknowledge it.

  Oh Lord Rudra… No…

  Stricken with horror, Raavan turned to look at his younger brother. His heart sank when he saw that Kumbhakarna’s expression mirrored his own. He turned his gaze to Sukarman, as if in a trance. The colour had vanished from the man’s face. He stood there, trembling, a wretched figure. Raavan felt his heart turn to ice. This wasn’t just a robbery… This was…

  Lord Rudra, have mercy!

  It was Kumbhakarna who gathered his wits first. He moved swiftly, shouting as he ran, ‘Guards! Everyone! We are riding out to Todee! Now!’

  Less than an hour later, Raavan’s entourage of over one hundred soldiers thundered into Todee. Only Samichi had been left behind on Kumbhakarna’s orders. Sukarman had been tied to the back of a horse, whose reins were in the hand of one of Raavan’s mounted warriors. His five companions were being hauled back to Todee in a similar manner.

  As the horses galloped into the village, it became immediately obvious that something was amiss.

  There was a deathly silence all around.

  Raavan whipped his horse and continued to race ahead, leading the way to Vedavati’s house at the centre of the village. There was a massive crowd in the open square right outside it. Almost the entire village seemed to have congregated there.

  Raavan vaulted off his horse and ran towards the house, pushing people aside. His heart was pounding. His mouth felt dry with foreboding.

  Kumbhakarna was close behind him.

  As Raavan shoved a scrawny villager out of his way, he nearly tripped over something lying on the ground.

  Without so much as a glance, he straightened up and stumbled on, towards the modest hut that belonged to Vedavati and Prithvi.

  It was Kumbhakarna who realised what it was that Raavan had tripped over.

  Prithvi’s bloodied and mutilated body.

  Oh Lord Rudra…

  There had clearly been a struggle. Prithvi had been stabbed multiple times, and had probably bled to death. It was clear that he had died slowly. A trail of blood on the ground suggested that he had tried to drag himself towards his house, till his body gave way.

  Kumbhakarna looked up. Towards Prithvi’s house. Where the pregnant Vedavati would have been.

  And then he heard a cry.

  It was the sound of raw, unfathomable anguish. The broken voice of a soul struck down with unimaginable grief.

  He ran towards Vedavati’s hut, roughly pushing aside everyone in his path. He emerged through the crowd to see Raavan on his knees outside the open door. Sobbing uncontrollably.

  Steeling his heart, Kumbhakarna looked through the open door into the one-room hut. The sight made his blood curdle. Vedavati lay on the floor, her right arm twisted at a strange angle. Her left hand was on her belly, as if she was protecting her unborn child. Or had died trying to protect it. For most of the stab wounds were on her belly. She had been knifed at least fifteen to twenty times. The blood had flowed and congealed around her, a macabre red shroud cradling her dead body. Her face, always so still and serene, had not been spared either. The attacker had jabbed the knife straight into her left eye. By the look of it, it was a deep wound. Perhaps the wound that had finally killed her. The blow that had snuffed out the light of the Living Goddess.

  Kumbhakarna bent over, unable to believe what he was seeing. Blinded by tears, he stumbled towards his brother and reached out to touch his shoulder.

  Raavan shrank back at the touch, as though seared by fire. He looked at his younger brother. Tears streaming down his face.

  Kumbhakarna collapsed on his knees. ‘Dada…’

  Raavan looked up at the skies. To the cloud palaces where the Gods were supposed to live. ‘YOU SONS OF BITCHES!! WHY?! WHY HER?! WHY?!!’

  Kumbhakarna embraced Raavan, not knowing what else to do, or say.

  They say tears can wash away grief. They lie.

  There are some kinds of grief that even a million tears cannot wash away. Which haunt you for life. For all time.

  They say time heals all wounds. They lie.

  Sometimes, the grief one is cursed with is so immense that even time surrenders to it.

  The brothers held each other. Crying inconsolably.

  Raavan’s men had slowly gathered around Raavan and Kumbhakarna. None of them truly understood what was going on. But they could see that their trader-prince was devastated.

  The villagers, too stunned to do anything, stood around weeping.

  Shochikesh slowly staggered up to Raavan. His eyes were swollen with tears and his body stooped with grief. ‘I am so sorry, Jai… I…’

  He still had no idea who Raavan was.

  ‘Where the hell were all of you when this happened?’ Raavan snarled. The rage of the entire universe seemed to sweep through him.

  ‘Jai… There’s nothing we could have done… We rushed here when we heard noises… but they were armed…’

  Raavan felt the fury rise again within him. He looked around. There were at least two hundred villagers assembled near the hut. He looked at Sukarman and his five accomplices, each one securely tied to the trunk of a tree beside the hut.

  Two hundred against six.

  Raavan’s voice dropped to a menacing whisper as he addressed Shochikesh. ‘She was your Goddess. She held up this entire pathetic village. Cared for it like a mother. And all of you together could not protect her from six thugs?’

  ‘I am so sorry… we… Many got scared and ran away…’

  Raavan rose to his full height, towering over Shochikesh. ‘Ran away? You sons of bitches ran away?’

  Shochikesh looked at the Lankan trader’s bloodshot eyes, his own panic rising. He tried to reason with Raavan. ‘But… But what could we…’

  The words remained frozen on Shochikesh’s lips. His eyes widened as he looked down to see a knife buried deep in his body. He stood in shock for a moment, before he let out an agonised scream. Raavan had drawn his long knife in one smooth, rapid arc and thrust it into the other man’s abdomen. The scream infuriated Raavan even more. He rammed the knife in further, twisting it viciously. The blade ripped through to the other side, the point bursting out of Shochikesh’s back. Raavan yanked his weapon out and pushed Shochikesh back. The flame-haired man fell to the ground, bleeding copiously. It would be a slow, painful death.

  The villagers stood rooted to their spots, paralysed with fear.

  Raavan looked down at Shochikesh’s body for a moment. Then the trader from Lanka hawked and spat on the Todee landlord.

  Continuing to look down, Raavan ordered in a low growl, ‘Kill them all.’ Then he pointed to where Sukarman and his gang were tied up. ‘Except them.’

  The villagers scattered and ran screaming in all directions as Raavan’s soldiers rushed to obey their lord’s command. The residents of Todee did not stand a chance. Every one of them was killed.

  Corpses littered the ground. Men. Women. Children. Cut down where they stood. It was all over in just a few minutes.

  Raavan stood next to one of Sukarman’s associates, while Kumbhakarna stood on his other side. The Lankan soldiers, holding their bloodied swords, were at the back. Sukarman’s hands had been nailed to a door that faced the trees where his associates had been tied up. He could see exactly what was being done to them.

  Raavan held a burning log to the man’s arm, letting the fire incinerate the skin and roast the flesh. The sickening smell of burning flesh pervaded the atmosphere. The blood-curdling scream
s of the man being slowly burnt alive rent the air.

  But Raavan wasn’t even looking at the victim of his torture. His eyes were focused on Sukarman’s face. ‘Did you do this only for money? Or were you ordered by someone to kill her?’

  The petrified Sukarman began to blabber. ‘I… so sorry… forgive me… please… forgive me… take all the money…’

  Pure, unadulterated rage flashed in Raavan’s eyes. He raised the flaming log and held it closer to his agonised victim’s face. Then he turned his attention back to Sukarman. ‘You think this is about money?’

  Kumbhakarna spoke up. ‘Where is the Kanyakumari’s baby?’

  When Vedavati’s body was examined, her womb had been found to be empty. Which meant that she had given birth to her child before she was killed.

  However, there was no trace of the baby.

  ‘Sukarman, I asked you a question. Where is the baby?’ growled Kumbhakarna.

  Sukarman remained silent, looking down at the ground. Fear had made him lose control of his bladder again.

  ‘Sukarman.’ Kumbhakarna’s fists were clenched tight. ‘You’d better talk.’

  Suddenly, one of Sukarman’s associates spoke up. ‘He ordered me to do it. Sukarman did. I didn’t want to.’

  ‘What did you do?’ snarled Kumbhakarna, glaring at the man.

  ‘He ordered me to. It’s his fault…’

  ‘WHAT DID YOU DO?’

  The man fell silent.

  Kumbhakarna strode up and looked him fiercely in the eye.

  ‘What did you do? Tell me. And you will have mercy.’

  The man looked at Sukarman and then back at Kumbhakarna. ‘He ordered me to… throw the baby into the wild. And let the animals… eat… I mean…’ His words stumbled to a stop. Even his pathetic barbarian soul was ashamed of the terrible crime he had committed.

  Indians believed that to kill a baby was a horrific sin, and it would pollute one’s soul for many births. Sukarman’s gang had thought they would get around this commandment by letting wild animals do the deed for them.

  Kumbhakarna looked at Raavan, too shocked for words. He had not expected such an answer. Even for savages like these, this seemed abominably cruel.