A tale by the Tungabhadra

In his 1965 historical fiction Tungabhadrar Teere (By the Tungabhadra), the Bengali writer Sharadindu Bandyopadhyay wrote:Bandyopadhyay, while speaking of the lack of activity near the Tungabhadra, compares the river to her better-known counterparts in north India, such as the Ganga and Yamuna. His words, though a lament, belie the fact that the Tungabhadra is the sole remaining witness of the political upheavals in the Vijayanagara kingdom..Set in the Vijayanagara empire, established in 1336, Tungabhadrar Teere discusses the historically relevant marriage of the princess of Kalinga, in present-day Odisha, to the Deva Raya (King of Vijayanagara), while weaving a story of political intrigue and secrets within this historical backdrop. In the book's foreword, Bandyopadhyay clarifies that it is not an entirely fictional story, but historical fiction..Indian literary tradition is full of examples where trees and rivers have acted as witness to events. Stories related to the Mahabharata have often used time as a backdrop, and a sutradhar (narrator) to tell the stories connected with the epic. In a similar vein, Bandyopadhyay gives eyes and voice to the Tungabhadra, which narrates the historical events that played out there..Historical dimensionsArchaeological records estimate that at its peak, the massive Vijayanagara empire hosted up to four million residents. The region's dry climate and rugged topography is enriched by the waters of the Tungabhadra, which still benefits agriculture in the region. At the time when Vijayanagara flourished, the river also acted as a natural defence against enemies. Joined by the confluence of two small rivers – the Tunga and the Bhadra, that flow down the eastern side of India's Western Ghats – the Tungabhadra takes on frightening proportions during the monsoon..History is never one dimensional, and what we read in books often only prompts the imagination to recreate events and characters for ourselves. It is through such musings that history is often kept alive. Traditional history alone is not enough to reveal the dimensions that mythology and folklore add to the archive..I caught my first glimpse of the Tungabhadra near the town of Hospet, on the way to Hampi (where the ruins of Vijayanagara are strewn) in Karnataka. During the monsoons, the river is fast and furious, sometimes reaching depths of over 23 metres. Mighty as she may be, my first impressions were of a placid body of water. It was the end of April, and though it had rained in recent days, the waters were still a shadow of what they can become..The Hampi ruins bear testimony to a strong female presence, in the various sculptures and engravings depicting women..Gazing at the small fishing boats that make their way down the river, I was reminded of Bandyopadhyay's novel. I recollected the narration of the dream-like sequence, where Princess Bidyunmala from Kalinga makes her way down this very river in a peacock-headed ship, to be wed to the King Deva Raya II. By 1518, Indian naval prowess was well-established. Indian kings had trade agreements with foreign lands, meaning that traders from Central Asia and present-day Burma, Thailand, Cambodia and Indonesia travelled frequently within the Vijayanagara kingdom. Sea trade flourished, as it was safer than overland travel. This is perhaps why the princesses of Kalinga took the sea route to be married to Deva Raya..The marriage was a political alliance, contrived after the Oriya king had been conquered by Deva Raya. Such marriages were common, and Deva Raya (like his ancestors Harihara and Bukka, who founded the Vijayanagara kingdom) wanted to bring the Hindu kings of southern India together against the collective forces of the Deccan sultans. There is little mention of this marriage in Oriya literature from those times, and the common belief is that Orissa (now Odisha) did not forgive the Vijayanagara Kingdom for this insult and subjugation..Historical accounts of the queens of Deva Raya, from both locals and foreign travellers, are contradictory. It is generally agreed that the king probably had three principal wives: Thirumaladevi, Chinnadevi and Jaganmohini. In keeping with travellers' accounts, Bandyopadhyay's novel also hints at a forced marriage, and the premise that the would-be queen wasn't too happy about having to marry Deva Raya. The fictionalised Princess Bidyunmala voices her grievances to her stepsister, saying: "I am going there to be married, in the same way that an innocent man sentenced to death is led to the gallows." In the novel, the princesses' companion and stepsister, Manikankana, asks Princess Bidyunmala why the king has not travelled to the bride's home in Kalinga to be married. This is a logical question, as in Hindu marriages the groom usually travels to the bride's home for the ceremony. But leaving his kingdom was a security risk for the king. The affluent Vijayanagara empire was subject to the jealousy of its neighbours, and was under constant threat from the sultans of the south, who found a common enemy in this powerful Hindu empire..In search of the feminine.My trip to Hampi was born out of a curiosity to see the characters of Tungabhadrar Teere brought to life, at the site of the ruins, and to locate the 'feminine presence' in the ruins of Hampi as described in various traveller accounts. Apart from facts about the queens, who seemed to play an important role in the kingdom, most traveller accounts include fascinating information about the women of the era, who are supposed to have excelled in literature, dance, wrestling, hunting and playing musical instruments..The Hampi ruins, indeed, bear testimony to a strong female presence, in various sculptures and engravings. Ordinary activities are represented, such as the way the women took care of their children or spent time with their husbands, as well as detailed representations of the clothes and ornaments they wore during festivals. The Vittala temple complex, for example, houses sculptures of women greeting visitors. The panels in the dancing halls are decorated with the poses that women dancers performed. Buildings are dedicated to queens. The Zenana Mahal (Queen's enclosure), the platforms used for dancing and the queen's bath are just some of the large structures that indicate the presence of the queens and their lifestyles..Walking by the Tungabhadra and trying to imagine its role as a spectator in the existence, growth and subsequent fall of the empire, I am convinced that its waters will reveal more, if one cares to listen. The waters have played a prominent role in the mythology of this land, and the lives within Vijayanagara. The Tungabhadra formed a natural barrier against enemies, and its waters were directed for irrigation, and the canals that ran inside the fort, enabled those within to survive for several days during times of siege..The waters were not protection enough, however, to guard the empire against the collective wrath of the Deccan sultans. Vijayanagara, which became very powerful by the end of the 14th century and remained so until the 16th century, was constantly threatened by them. This culminated in the Battle of Talikota (1565), which led to the defeat of Vijayanagara. Troops of sultans entered the capital city and destroyed it. Men, women and children were killed. Almost everything was burnt, and Hindu idols were destroyed. This destruction continued for six months. Robert Sewell, in A Forgotten Empire (1900), wrote:.VS Naipaul in India: A wounded civilization (1977) wrote that the fall of the great Vijayanagara was a conspiracy by the Muslim sultans to try to vanquish what he considered to be a Hindu rashtra. Naipaul's summation, however, is problematic. Most historians and other experts are reluctant to isolate religion as the only cause for the fall of the Vijayanagara kingdom. George Michell, a British archaeologist and expert on Deccan architecture, believes that the Deccan sultans' attack on Vijayanagara had more to do with capturing land, wealth and power than just religious zeal.