CHAPTER 19 The Bloody Battlefield.
It was a custom in ancient Tamilnadu to install a stone in memory of someone who died a warrior’s death on the battlefield, and build a temple there. If only a stone marked the place, it was called a nadukarkoil. If a deity was installed and a temple built around it, it was known as a pallipadai, a cenotaph.
There was a pallipadai of this kind near the village of Thirupurambayam, half a kadham to the northwest of Kudandhai, on the northern bank of the Manni. It had been built in memory of the Ganga King, Prithvipathi, who died in one of the big battles fought there. Students of history know that the battles of Waterloo, Panipat and Plassey changed the course of history. As far as Tamilnadu is concerned the Battle of Thirupurambayam was a major historical event of this kind. It happened about a hundred years before this story begins and it is imperative that all the Tamil people know the story connected with it.
About five or six hundred years after the glorious reigns of Karikal Valavan, Perunarkilli, Ilanchetchenni and Thodithotchembiyan, the glory of the Chozha empire was completely eclipsed. The Pandyas from the south and the Pallavas from the north, who had both gained considerable strength, closed in on the Chozhas. Finally the Chozha clan, unable to cope with the troublesome Pandyas, had to abandon their capital, Uraiyur. They moved to Pazhayarai, near Kudandhai. However they did not let go their claim to their original capital, nor did they relinquish their title, “Kozhi Vendar, Kozhi being another name for Uraiyur.
Vijayalayar, one of the Chozha kings of Pazhayarai, achieved unequalled fame as a warrior. He was in the forefront of many battles and bore ninety-six wounds on his body.
The mighty victor
The proud bearer Of ninety scars And a few more and
The proud master
Of body bejewelled With scars
Six and ninety
Court poets of later days honoured him thus in prose and poetry.
His son, Aditha Chozhar, comparable to his father in valour, was an equally great warrior.
When he grew old, Vijayalaya Chozhar abdicated the throne in favour of his son. The war between the Pandyas and the Pallavas was at its height at that time and there were continuous battles. Varagunavarman was the Pandyan king and Aparajitha Varman the Pallava king. Most of the battles between these two kings were fought on Chozha territory. The Chozha kingdom and its people suffered, caught as they were like a chicken between two warring elephants. Vijayalaya Chozhan, however, used these battles to his own advantage.
With his small army, he fought on one side or the other. Although he alternated between defeat and victory, his army continued to be in fine fettle.
We know of the many tributaries of the Kaveri which make the Chozha country prosperous. All of them branch off from the Kaveri at its southern end. Only one river flows between the Kaveri and the Kollidam: the Manni.
It was on the northern bank of the Manni, near the village of Thirupurambayam that the final trial of strength between the Pandyas and Pallavas took place. Both sides were more or less evenly matched. Prithvipathi, the Ganga king, came to the aid of Pallava Aparajithavarman and so did Aditha Chozhar. Compared to the Pandya and Pallava forces, the Chozha army was very small.
Adithar knew that if the Pandyas won this time, the Chozha dynasty would be totally annihilated. So he let his small army merge with the huge Pallava army, like the Kaveri merges with the sea.
The battlefield extended over a huge area. All four branches of the army, its infantry, cavalry, elephants and chariots engaged in warfare. When the elephants attacked one another, it was like the clashing of mountains, horses rushed at each other like storms and the swords in the hands of the warriors on horseback flashed like lightning. Chariots shattered into a thousand pieces and scattered in all directions. The fearful sound of swords and lances clanging against each other could be heard everywhere.
After three days of continuous fighting, the battlefield looked like a sea of blood. The carcasses of elephants and horses were piled in heaps. Broken pieces from the chariots were scattered around like wreckage from a ship. Tens of thousands of soldiers from both sides lay dead.
Only a small portion of the Pallava forces survived the three days of terrible fighting. These survivors were exhausted. The brave Maravas of the Pandya army attacked them tirelessly, as though granted the boon of never becoming fatigued. A council of war was held in Aparajithar’s tent. Prithvipathi, Adithan and the army commanders came to a unanimous decision that they would not fight any longer and would retreat to the northern bank of the Kollidam.
At this juncture a miracle happened on the battlefield. The old and feeble Vijayalaya Chozhan, with his ninety-six battle scars, a man who could hardly stand, so grievously had his body been wounded, appeared on the battlefield. Realizing that if the Pallavas retreated to the north of the Kollidam, the Chozha dynasty would cease to be a presence for a long time to come, the old lion gave a roar which infused a fresh lease of life into the survivors.
“An elephant! Give me an elephant!” he cried.
They said, “All our elephants are dead. Not one survived.” “A horse then! At least a horse,” he pleaded.
“There's not a single living horse left.”
“Are there at least two brave Chozha warriors left alive? Please come forward.” Two hundred stepped forward instead of two.
“Two of you with strong shoulders and brave hearts, carry me on your shoulders. The others can follow in pairs. If the two that carry me fall, the next pair must take their place.”
Two Bhimasena-like men came forward and helped him up.
“Go! Go to the battlefield!” roared Vijayalayar.
A skirmish was in progress in a corner of the battlefield. The southern Pandya Maravars were attacking the Pallavas and forcing them to retreat. Vijayalayan entered the fray seated on the shoulders of his men. Gripping two huge swords in both hands, he swirled them like Thirumal's Chakrayudham and made his way through the enemy forces. No one could stop him. As he advanced, enemy corpses piled up on either side of him.
Many people who had retreated came forward to watch this miracle. At first, they stood amazed at Vijayalayan's superhuman valour. Then they encouraged each other to enter the fray.
And so the benevolent eye of Jayalakshmi, the Goddess of Victory, turned in their direction. The Pallava commanders gave up the idea of retreat.
The three kings regrouped their hand-picked troops and charged into battle. After some time the Pandyas began to retreat and stopped only when they reached the borders of the Pandya kingdom.
However, the Ganga king, Prithvipathi, performed many deeds of valour on the battlefield that day before he left his earthly body and attained a brave warrior’s death.
A plaque was erected to commemorate him, and after some time, a pallipadai was built around it.
The scene of this terrible battle lay for a long time like a wasteland, empty of vegetation. No one went near it. In course of time the pallipadai was overrun by a dense jungle. Foxes made their homes in the bushes, owls and other nocturnal birds lived in the dark hollows of its trees. As days went by, people stopped visiting the pallipadai. The temple began to crumble and was in ruins at the time of our story.
It is to this ruined temple that Azhwarkadiyan came at around sunset. The gargoyles at the borders of the mandapam tried to frighten him. But the brave Vaishnavite was not easily frightened, was he? He clambered on top of the mandapam and hid on the branch of a tree that covered it. He could keep watch from there in all four directions. His eyes had the capacity to pierce the darkness. And his ears were sharp enough to detect the faintest sound.
One, two, three nazhigais passed after darkness fell and nothing happened. The darkness was so oppressive, he began to gasp for breath. Now and then there were sounds: a civet cat climbed the tree, or an owl hooted, or a bird, frightened by the civet cat, fluttered its wings and flew to the top of the tree. Suddenly, the jackals started to howl.
Stars twinkled in the small portion of the sky visible through the gaps in the branches, looking down at him. In the desolation of that forest, it seemed as if they were courting his friendship.
Azhwarkadiyan said softly to them: “Stars! It looks as if you’re winking amused at the idiocy of the people on this earth. You have every reason to laugh. You saw the battle that happened a hundred years ago, and the blood that flooded the ground a long time afterwards. You wonder why there should be so much enmity among human beings, so much carnage and bloodshed. And why this should be known as heroism!”
“Even after a man has been dead a hundred years, people continue to hate him. This is an enemy's pallipadai where people gather to torture the living in the name of the dead. Stars in the sky! Why wouldn't you laugh! Laugh!”
Oh God! Had coming here been a futile exercise? Would he have to spend the whole night like this? Wouldn’t they turn up, the people he expected? Did I hear wrong, he wondered? Did I not take note of everything properly? Or have they changed their minds and gone elsewhere, the ones who made the sign of the fish? What a disappointment! If I’m cheated today, I’ll never forgive myself! Aha! I see a faint light. What is it? It’s gone. There it is again. It’s someone waving a torch. No, there are two of them. The wait had been worthwhile after all.
The two people who had come went a short distance beyond the pallipadai until they reached a clearing in the midst of the thick jungle. One of them sat down. The one with the torch looked around. It was certain he was expecting someone else. Soon, two more people arrived. They must have come here before, otherwise how could they have found their way through the jungle at night?
All four of them began to talk to one another. Azhwarkadiyan could not hear a thing. All this trouble for nothing! He had not even recognised the men.
Two more men arrived. All of them talked to one another. One of the two who had arrived last opened a bag and poured out its contents. Gold coins glistened in the glow of the torch.
Laughing like a maniac, the man who had emptied the bag said, “Friends! We’ll destroy the Chozha dynasty with money from the Chozha treasury. Won’t that be ironic?” He laughed again gleefully.
“Ravidasar! Not so loud. Speak softly.”
“Aha! What does it matter if I talk loudly here? Only jackals, Owls, civet cats and other animals will hear me. Luckily, they can’t talk to anybody.”
“Even so it’s better to talk softly, isn’t it?”
They began to converse in soft voices. Azhwarkadiyan thought it was a waste to sit on the mandapam since he could not hear what they were saying. He would have to climb down and sit closer to the gathering, to overhear what they said. He had to be prepared to face any danger that would result. He therefore started to climb down. The leaves rustled loudly.
Two of the men jumped up and shouted, “Who’s that?”
Azhwarkadiyan's heart missed a beat. He had no alternative but to try and escape, even if he made a noise and they caught him.
Just then, an owl lifted its beak and hooted, “Whoo! Whoo!”
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