Retelling of an 2,500 year old Indian mythology that aims to teach simple life lessons to young children.
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Read the introduction post here.
Despite the warnings by his most trusted ministers and requests from his generals to go themselves instead of him, the king found it impossible to break his word. Though it appeared impromptu and even foolish to an extent, he felt obliged to help for what appeared to be a good cause. This is after all a story set in the times of noble men!
He mounted his horse and rode past the familiar castle walls. He shot past blooming gardens and vast farms before the kingdom seemed to fade away. He had now reached the entrance to a small cave that the old man had described to him.
“I am glad you kept your word. I will take you to my place of worship right away.“ the sage greeted him and took him inside the cave. Holy ash smeared on walls in three horizontal lines. Deep inside the cavern which seemed to be a world of its own, Vikram noticed an unnatural light. As they approached he could feel the warmth of fire. He also noticed a tiger skin laid on a pedestal large enough to seat two men.
A trident was standing right in front of it, and by its side was set the idol of the old man’s deity - a very fierce looking goddess with ten hands and a deadly weapon in each. For a common man, the deity with its tongue protruding out and wide open eyes would have seemed more of a fiend than a depiction of god! The heap of vermillion lying in between the fire and the idol, made its face appear crimson giving it an even more terrifying appearance.
“You can rest here tonight. But you will have to continue deep into the dark forest by dawn.“ the sage continued. Vikram realised that he was now wearing the robe of a priest.
“When you are past the Daithya hill you will come to an ancient ruin. In the middle of the structure you will notice a single Neem tree. On the top most branch you will find a despicable looking cadaver hanging upside down on a branch.“ the king was now listening to every word with utmost intent.
“Fear not the cadaver, for its form decays. But fear the power of its words; it speaks ancient evil morphed into well crafted stories. In order for my prayer to complete I wish to sacrifice this spook to my deity. But forget not, o king, that you ought to bring it over to me from its tree to my prayer hall before a fortnight beyond which the auspicious time will lapse.“
With the quest clearly laid out, the king set out. It took him many hours, but he soon came to an old path within the forest. He travelled many miles and rested little, before finally came to a path where he could not proceed further on his steed.
He had to continue on a perilous path that would have forced even the boldest of men to turn back and run. But a king like him considered breaking their given as an even more cowardly act.
Finally, he could see the the tree he had set for. It was not to be called a tree, for it was now dead. The branches where leaves should have been were simply bare. There was a circular patch between the sole tree and the rest of the living trees where nothing seemed to grow. It was perplexing to think that this scene was right in the middle of a forest. But the moment he looked at the top branch of the tree it became clear to Vikram as to why the area was looking so very cursed.
The cadaver was as more despicable looking than Vikram had imagined it will be. Pale white and wrinkled, its ominous presence gave him the goosebumps the moment he looked at it. It hung upside down with its silvery white mane dangling down. The eyes were sunk in its socket, but the gaze seemed to be set on him.
The creature seemed to be enjoying playing upside down in that branch. ‘Perhaps it would continue to do so for an eternity! Not if I can put an end to it’ and with that thought he dashed forward and with a jump he was quickly climbing up the tree.
The cadaver began toying with him. At the same moment, it jumped straight down and away from him. A cold wave swept past him before it lay face down at the bottom of the tree and gave a deep reverberating laugh. The moment he started climbing down, it sprung up in the air and flew to the top branch. It did so twice.
He had had enough. The next time he climbed up and it whizzed past him, he jumped on its back and pinned it down. Wrangling its arm, which not surprisingly lacked bones completely, he arched it and put it around his shoulders. Without speaking another word Vikram began walking out of that area.
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“You are indeed smart and fast brave Vikram“ the corpse began speaking. “Wouldn’t you be interested as to how I know about you?“
Vikram was not replying. He clearly remembered what the sage had told him regarding speaking to this devil!
“Ah! Of course… You have been instructed well by the priest“ the cadaver’s voice was only a whisper but he could read the hatred it had for the priest.
“I think it is a long way to his place. Let us play a game. I will keep you entertained with a story along the way. I am sure you will not mind; it is going to be boring otherwise“
So saying, the corpse began to tell the first tale.
NB: The tales of Vikram and Vetaal/ Betaal is based on Betaal Pacchisi, written nearly 2,500 years ago by Mahakavi Somdev Bhatt. These are spellbinding stories told to the wise King Vikramaditya by the wily ghost Betaal.