Charkavyuha - the story of a brave soldier

The year was 1787, Muthanna and his clan had been fighting the armies of Tipu Sultan for three weeks. The men were weary and exhausted, but had taken a solemn oath of never to be caught or converted. Tippu’s army was moving across Coorg, they had started out at Mysore, and then moved West, capturing, killing and converting as they went along. The Raja of Coorg had decided to fight them. His army, a disparate group of clans from Coorg, were united in the common cause of fighting this army. Muthanna, was from the Biddanda clan, the elder of the clan had been killed the previous evening, in a sword fight. Muthanna shouted the order to withdraw and his clan melted into the hill side. Tippu’s men tried to chase them for a bit, but the sun was setting and then decided it would be futile.

That evening around the camp fire, while the injured were being looked after, Muthanna sat with his men and ate the food being prepared by his wife and the other women. They started discussing the day, and Muthanna began narrating the days events to the women. His wife Thangamma, listened quietly and then said only one word “Chakravyuha’. Muthanna asked her what did she mean by that, and she mentioned that in the great Mahabharata war, Dronacharya, the teacher of all the Pandava’s and Kaurava’s taught them about the most difficult formations, to break the enemy’s attack. It was about positioning the most powerful fighters, so as to inflict the maximum damage to the enemy. She told him “You do not win a war with might, but with brains’. Muthanna listened to his wife, and had to agree that she was right. They needed a strategy.

Muthanna did not get sleep the whole night. Try as he might, the words of his wife kept playing in his head. He awoke early, and then started putting a plan together. He knew they had one advantage over Tipu’s army, they knew the territory. His men needed to use the element of surprise, short raids, quick attacks, and maximum damage. He divided his clan into three teams, the front team were to attack the last, the attack would start from behind, then the middle section would be attacked and then finally the front. The idea was to create chaos, the rains had started in earnest to add to the confusion and it was bitterly cold.

Early in the morning, he gathered his clan together, and chalked out the plan. His men, who trusted him, wanted to win. He sent his brother Devaya, with ten others to the top of the hill. He sent his cousin Nanjappa to the middle of the hill, and asked them to take cover behind the outcrop of stones, and he positioned himself and his group at the entrance of the valley, from where the army would pass to start climbing the hill to get to the other side. Their call sign was the cuckoo birds tweet, three long one short. Only then would they be attacking. It had to happen within minutes of each other.

It was mayhem, Muthanna and his men caused the maximum destruction to Tipu’s army. In the ensuing confusion, Muthanna and his men escaped into the hills. This was the starting of a series of small victories and battles, between the Coorgs and Tipu’s army, and Muthanna’s legend grew, and stories of his bravery and cunning reached Tipu. Tipu called his Army Commander in Chief- Yaar Muhammed, and told him he wanted Muthanna dead or alive. Yaar Mohammed, was a brave and brilliant strategist. He decided to smoke Muthanna out of hiding, and he literally did just that. He started burning village after village in Coorg, making the women and kids homeless. He knew that one day he would exhaust his opponent. They played a cat and mouse game, it lasted for seven months. In the summer of 1788, Muthanna was killed. When Tipu heard the news he sent word to Yaar Muhammed to get him proof of this. Yaar Muhammed reached the Srirangapatnam fort and entered the palace and went straight to Tipu’s private chambers. He carried with him the decapitated head of Muthanna. He presented the head covered in cloth to Tipu. When Tipu removed the cloth, he was shocked on how handsome, young and regal the man was. Muthanna was buried with full military honors, as befitting a General.

The story of Muthanna is one of many in Coorg, and in many biography’s of Tipu Sultan, there is a mention of the bravery of the Coorgs. The Coorgs finally lost the war against Tipu Sultan, and he formed a Coorg battalion, which fought against the British.

CIRCLE OF FREINDS

Sunanda’s story

Sunanda’s daughter Padma was getting married. The family was in the middle of all the preparations. Sunanda did a mental checklist, flowers had been ordered, caterers were setting up, the wedding planner had a team of people, putting up the tents, bringing in the cushions, the makeup artist was upstairs doing up the bride and her friends. Sunanda remembered her own wedding, a more modes t wedding in the 1960’s. She had just finished her graduation in Home Science and she was getting married. Her husband Pratap Muthanna, had been working in the middle east, in Abu Dhabi, and came from a good family. He was an engineer working in the oil and gas industry in Abu Dhabi. That seemed so long ago, it almost seemed like another life. Sunanda shook her self out of the reverie and went up to look at how her daughter Padma was doing.
Padma was a pretty girl, she had long hair, thick lashes and lovely olive skin. Her parents had very high expectations of her, and so when she came home one day in Abu Dhabi with Arjun Koshy, a Malyalee boy she had met in college, they were disappointed. Arjun was a nice boy, but as Sunanda delicately hinted to her friends was not from the same “background” as them. Padma was stubborn, she would get married to Arjun and nobody else. Sunanda’s best friend Preeti had been Padma’s confidante. It was in Preeti’s house that Arjun met Padma, and with her full encouragement, they started seeing each other. Sunanda and Pratap were the last ones to know.

Sunanda and Preeti, were in a group of five women, who in Abu Dhabi was nicknamed “the Unhappy Wives club”. All of them had husbands with roving eyes. Pratap was the worst, since he took Sunanda completely for granted. It was a known fact that he would have affairs with all his secretary’s in quick succession, and then they would either be transferred or sacked. Initially he thought he loved Sunanada, only to quickly realize that it was an infatuation and he then looked at her as the mother of his kids. He then in predictable in quick succession hit on most of her friends. Preeti had not been spared either. Despite all this the women stayed friends, an uneasy friendship, which had lasted for the last 20 odd years.
Sunanda entered the room, found her daughter, with all her friends laughing and giggling, and in the corner Preeti was standing, getting out the jewellery and glass bangles from boxes. Preeti, was a stunningly beautiful Punjabi lady. She had tall, statuesque, with long hair, framing a face, with big eyes, strong straight nose, and a lovely smile that lit up her face. She turned and smiled at Sunanda and continued to sort out the jewellery.

Preeti’s story

Preeti Chibber, was 20 years old, when she got married after finishing her Bachelors in Political science from Miranda House in Delhi. Her husband Chetan Chibber, was working in Abu Dhabi, as an accountant with a trading company. He was an only child, and a complete Mommy’s boy. Preeti had, from day one problems with her inlaws. When she had a daughter, it just got worse. She then produced two more daughters and it just got worse. Husband and wife would fight non stop. Chetan was best described as an indifferent husband. When Pratap made a pass at Preeti, she was very upset. What angered her more , was the fact Pratap knew that Chetan would not do anything. Few days later, she met Sunanda and told her about the incident. Sunanda just apologized to her “Pratap is like that, don’t take it to heart, he was drunk’. He was not drunk, even Sunanda knew that was a lie.

Something snapped in Preeti that day, she wanted to get even. She wanted Pratap to feel the hurt, the hurt that he had put his wife through and all the other women. Patience , she told her self, your time will come. Today Preeti had her revenge, Pratap’s daughter Padma, the apple of his eye, was getting married to a boy Pratap completely disapproved of, there was nothing Pratap could do.

After all, Preeti knew, only a child could bring a parent to their knees. Today , Pratap was on his knees.

MOTHER EARTH.........CALLING

Arvind Monappa rushed to the Cubbon Park Police station in Bangalore. The voice at the other end of phone sounded tired, but Inspector T. Ashok had something new for him.

“Come to the station, I have something interesting for you , something you will love to investigate”.

Cryptic, but enough to pique his attention. Arvind was having dinner with his friends, when he excused himself and rushed off to the police station. This was too good to miss.

He arrived at the station at 9.30pm on a Monday evening, and went straight into to meet the Inspector.

The inspector was speaking to an old couple, he saw Arvind and gestured to him to take a seat near the window. Arvind had a good vantage point of the room, and could overhear the conversation. The parents had come to lodge a complaint. The complaint was being lodged against Swami Shivananda Parmahasana, and his followers. The parents alleged that their daughter Devika, had been enticed and kidnapped by the Swami. The Inspector made some polite sounds, and sympathetic clucking sounds and after giving them a cup of tea, led them to the door. After telling them that he would get to the bottom of it, he asked his Havaldar to see them to the door.
He returned back to his desk, and gestured for Arvind to join him. Inspector Ashok was a man of few words, so Arvind knew that when he spoke, he better listen carefully.

The Inspector had a simple task. He wanted Arvind to investigate the Swami, this had been the fourth complaint against the man. It was the same story. All the women were single, either divorced or widowed, and from wealthy families. They were first lured into the group by one of his followers, by a promise of becoming spiritually evolved. They were all made to understand that this was journey to something bigger and better. Slowly they were weaned away from family and friends, and in some cases had given away all their wealth, money, jewelry and property to the Swami or his bhakt’s , with a promise of eternal salvation.

Arvind was very excited, this was the first time in two years, since he had become the crime reporter, that he was happy to write about something that according to the Inspector, was the fastest growing undetected crime in Bangalore. He took the address of Devika’s parents and three other people from the Inspector. The next day he went to meet them.

Devika’s parents were from Coorg. The father , Mr. Medappa had been working in Consolidated Coffee, and had his own estate in Virajpet. Devika was the elder of two kids, the younger son was living abroad. The father had suffered a massive heart attack about five years back. Mrs. Medappa, was a housewife, who was a kindly old lady. She was confused about what was happening. Arvind, showed his newspaper’s card to introduce himself. He told them that he was investigating the Swami, and wanted to bring it into the open, so that this extortion would stop. It was like a flood gate had opened. Mr. Medappa, broke down and cried. Arvind put the pieces together. Her parents knew something was wrong, when Devika came over one day and asked for her share in the family money. She wanted nearly twenty lakh rupees immediately, as it was extremely important for her Swamiji to perform a puja, with his main disciple Shyamlee Kurrupuswamy Singh. Shyamlee was Devika’s main contact with the Swamiji. She gave Devika messages from the Swamiji in exchange for money. First the amounts that had been given were small, then they began to grow. Mrs. Medappa soon found her jewelry missing, silver candlesticks gone. She did not want to alarm her husband, so she kept quiet about it. Only when one day Devika came and demanded her share of the property , did the parents think something was very wrong.
It was the same story with the other three people. Each had some family member who had been involved with the Swamiji, and in all three cases Shymalee was the messenger. Arvind, went in the morning and gave this information to the producer of the television network he worked for. The producer was thrilled, it was an opportune moment to conduct a sting operation on the Swamiji and his disciples. There were four reporters assigned to this case, each was assigned a task. Arvind was given the task of following Shymalee. Two others were given the task of following the Swamiji, one by infiltrating the ashram as a devotee, and the other posing as an NRI from the middle east, in search of spiritual gratification. One reporter, was sent as a reporter herself to interview the Swamiji for her daily newspaper, and to get quotes for the ladies section of the newspaper.
It took them four months, but they had enough information to put away the Swamiji and Shymalee for years. When they broad cast this on their network, all the other channels got onto the bandwagon and the Ashram was bombarded by the press. The police became part of the sting operation and conducted a raid on the Ashram. They found nearly twenty women there. Women who had left their homes to come and live in the Ashram, among them was Devika.

It has been a year since this incident. Devika now lives in Coorg with her parents. Under their watchful eye, she is making a slow but positive recovery. The Swami is on the run, and has gone into hiding. Shyamlee, protested her innocence in the whole deal and is still seen around Bangalore, probably doing the same thing to someone else.

Her opening line to most of the women was “ I am Mother Earth and I am here to give you what you truly deserve”.

Daughter of the Soil

The year was 1902.

Ganga was only 16 years old when she married Bheemiah. He was 44 and she was his second wife. His first wife Yeshi was unwell. She had been unwell for about 9 years, she had been bed ridden for the last 5 of those years. She had had a break down one day, no body knew what had happened. But the house hold help found her on the kitchen floor, moaning and crying incoherently one night. The children were young then, and the incident did not have much of an impact on them. Over the years Yeshi’s health deteriorated even further, and she then spent many hours in bed, sullen and morose and refused to leave her room.

The family elders one day met and they decided that Bheemiah needed to get married again. Because the children needed a mother. They sent a proposal to Ganga’s family asking for her hand in marriage. Ganga’s Dad had died when she was very young, leaving the family in dire circumstances. Her eldest brother, was very happy when they got this proposal. Ganga, was what people described as a handsome plain woman, crude, and very industrious. She accepted her fate unquestioningly. On her wedding night, her husband came to her room, sat her down and told her very plainly that he would always love his first wife, and they would sleep in separate rooms. He would however give her full control of the house, and she would never be denied anything. Ganga, quickly settled into her new life. She now had the responsibility of caring for the family and did a good job of that. She looked after the kids, her in laws, even his first wife Yeshi.

Her mother in law and father in law were kind people, who looked at her as the best thing that had happened to the family. Bheemiah had only one sister Thulasi, a widow who stayed with them. She had been widowed very early, and had been sent back to her parents house by her in laws. The rejection society had meted out on her festered like a cancer inside her, and in turn, this manifested itself in to her being very nasty. She would pick on Ganga, who kept quiet most of the time, actually indifferent to her barbs. This got Thulasi more incensed, and one day she decided she was going to take matters into her own hands.

Every night, before turning in for the night, Ganga would go to the kitchen and get a glass of hot milk for her in laws. She would then turn off the lamps in the house, room after room and turn in for the night. One day as usual Ganga was closing up for the night, when she heard a slight sound out side the kitchen. The sound that came was like glass bangles tinkling at night. Curious, Ganga went and opened the back door of the kitchen, thinking that maybe one of the household maid’s was there. But she got a shock of her life, because there stood Thulasi, wearing a diaphanous, wet robe, with her hair askew and holding a candle. She charged at Ganga, shrieking loudly, expecting the same reaction that Yeshi had had, those many years ago. Ganga took a step back, when suddenly the famous Coorg bravery took over her, letting out a roar, she charged at Thulasi and pushed her really hard. Thulasi lost her balance, fell sideways, and hit her head against the iron grill door of the outhouse and died on the spot. The household help found her there the next day morning .The police did not press charges, Thulasi clearly had slipped and fallen 

Ganga lived till she was 80, strong, wise and brave till the end. Jamba Kodavti, a word that describes the Daughter of the Soil.