As Vikraman approached
the shore, he could hear musical instruments suppress the sounds of the waves.
Music from drums, conch and trumpets rang out all the way into the sky. Amidst
this music, the words he heard in human voices gave him goosebumps. They were
chanting ‘Vetrivel Veeravel’ – which means victory to vel, the weapon
used by Lord Murugan.
Vikraman had been
wondering what sort of people the occupants of the island would be, what
language they would speak, and even whether they might be cannibals. He was
pleasantly surprised to hear the chant that was typical of Tamil people from
the Chozha region. His mind started racing – ‘What is this mystery island? Why
are these people chanting ‘Vetrivel Veeravel’? And why are they gathered
in such numbers on the shore?’. His pulse quickened. He felt dizzy with emotion.
The log slipped from his fingers. His eyesight seemed to dim. A large wave hit
him at that moment. It felt as if it was the impact of all the water in the
ocean. He remembered his vow to his father. He remembered his mother’s loving
face, the sage’s majestic grace, and the face of that girl with large eyes all
in rapid succession. Darkness descended on him.
When he regained
consciousness, his eyes were closed, but could feel sandy ground underneath. He
could hear the ocean’s roar. Someone seemed to be applying holy ash on his
forehead. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a crowd around him. He remembered
where he was in an instant. The musical instruments had gone silent. The chants
had stopped. The sound from a lone cuckoo was amplifying the silence from
everyone around him. Vikraman realized they were all worried about him after
his accident. He sprang up to get on his feet.
That seemed to change
everything. There was a loud cheer, music and greeting chants. The
eminent looking man, who had been standing close by with a worried look called
out, ‘Please give way to the elephant!’.
Where have we seen this
man? Actually, he was the man who had made a representation to Narasimha Varman in
Mamallapuram on the day of the arts festival. People moved away. An
elephant with royal adornments was standing at a distance.
The mahout led it towards Vikraman. The elephant had a garland in its trunk.
Vikraman involuntarily bowed his head. The elephant garlanded him.
It is hard to describe
the next few minutes. The crowd roared, “Vetrivel Veeravel’. They
chanted, “Long live the King!” and also “Victory to the king of the Senbaga
land”.
Vikraman’s mind was
whirring with mixed emotions. He was longing to get an explanation for all this
but could not speak to anyone amidst that furor. Still cheering, people helped
him into the howdah on the royal elephant. The elephant marched inland. The
crowd followed.
Vikraman found all this
overwhelming. He was sure that he was either dreaming or hallucinating. The
scenes around him – the canals, fields and orchards looked right out of the
Chozha land. They crossed a village that looked like a Tamil village as well.
There was a temple of the Village Goddess, which looked exactly like what he
would find in the Tamil country. They entered a small town. Its square, houses
and streets looked like Uraiyur, but on a much smaller scale. It was not very
crowded. There were no tall towers or palatial buildings. Well-dressed men,
women and children stood outside the houses, looking very happy, and chanting
various greetings on seeing him.
All this was too good to
believe. Vikraman wondered if the Pallava king was pulling a trick on him. Is
it possible he was taken on what seemed like a long voyage, just to get back to
a coastal Chozha town? Upon this thought, Vikraman could feel the anger rise
within. Could the Pallava emperor have staged this elaborate charade to get him
to accept being a vassal?
While he had still been
wondering, the procession stopped in front of the most impressive building in
the town. People helped him off the elephant. The eminent looking man took him
into the building. He said, “My king, this is the palace where generations of
Senbaga kings had lived and ruled from. We humbly request that you reside here
as well”.
“What did you say the
name of the kingdom”?
“My king, it is called
Senbaga country”.
“And this town is
called?”
“Kumarapuri, my king!”
“Are you sure it is
Kumarapuri and not Mayapuri?” (Mayapuri means town of illusions).
“No, my king, it is
Kumarapuri”.
“And can you please
enlighten me as to who you are?”.
“My name is Sidharthan.
I was the prime minister of the late king Vishnuvardhan. If you command I can
serve as your… ”.
“Did you say the prime
minister, or minister of magic?”
“Prime minister, my
king”.
“If you are not a
magician, how did you know they were going to drop me off near the island this
morning?”
“My king, it is a long
story. I can tell you all that later”.
“Fair enough. Just tell
me for now, if this is a palace or a prison”.
“Prison? There is no
such thing as prison in this country! Prison, treason and capital punishment
are words that you hear in the land of Bharat!”
“Is this island very far
from Bharat?”
“Twelve days of sea
voyage, barring weather delays”
“Are you telling me the
truth?”
“I speak nothing but the
truth, your majesty”.
“If so, explain how you
are twelve days away from the Tamil land, but speak Tamil well?”.
“We speak Tamil, but it
is not just us. People who live in the lands east of this island speak Tamil
too. People settled in these fertile regions in the times of your ancestor,
Karikala Chozha. This town was founded by Karikalan’s son. It was named after
him. A Chozha general stayed back here to rule this country as a regent of the
Chozha king. After him, his successors ruled the country. The last king of that
lineage, King Vishnuvardhan died without heirs a few years ago. The country was
leaderless until today. People from the neighboring islands started raiding our
towns. We did not have a king and could not defend ourselves against the
various hostile races speaking many languages all around this region. Lord
Murugan has sent you to us. He sent us an offspring of the Chozha clan, no less!”.
Vikraman started
listening with interest as soon as Karikalan’s name was mentioned. As
Sidharthar went on, all his suspicions vanished. Sidharthar’s sincerity and
tone of voice gave him confidence.
It was incredible to
Vikraman that the islanders were from the time of Karikal Valavan, whom his
father had talked about often. He thought it might be destiny that brought him
to them. He felt goosebumps on this thought. He was also moved to tears.
He told Sidharthar,
“Sir, I trust everything you say. As you say, the longer story can wait.
Meanwhile I will just make one thing clear. If I were to assume responsibility
for this kingdom, I don’t want to be beholden to another king. I will not pay
tribute to anyone. I would rather give up my life than give up the independence
of my country. You should also be prepared to lay down your life for freedom.
The enemy may be good or bad, but if there is a war, we will never surrender. Please let me know
if you agree with this”.
Sidharthar said, “My
king, we have heard about the glorious martyrdom of your father, King
Parthiban. The blood that runs in our veins is from Chozha land as well. The Tamil
people of this island are ready to sacrifice their lives and possessions to
preserve their freedom. All we needed was a fearless leader. We have nothing
more to ask after your arrival”.
The temple bell tolled
at that time.
Sidharthar said, “Please
get some rest, get refreshments and get ready. We will go pray to Lord Murugan
in the evening and start planning the coronation”.
Parthban Kanavu: The Tamil version of the novel is in the public domain. Copyright for the translation is reserved by the translator..
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