NOTE: Please read the updated version of this story located on my
Portfolio website.
I did a quick
inventory of the loot that my band of Thuggees had brought back to camp with a
general sense of satisfaction. Mother Kali would be pleased with the offerings
we’d provided. Running my fingers down the ritual scarf on my belt, I
considered which prizes I would keep for myself. As jemadar, first choice was
always mine. As I pondered my options, a golden torq with inset gems caught my
eye. I froze as I studied the neckpiece, inundated by memories. My mother had
one just like it.
My family had been
traveling by caravan to a new village to live. I don’t know where we had come
from or where we were going. I was very young. Up to that point, my life had
been one moment of joy after another. My mother was beautiful and happy. I
remembered the smell of her hair and the softness of her smile with
heartbreaking clarity. My father is a bit of a blur, but my mother was clear in
my mind. Her, and my sister. I hadn’t thought of my sister in uncounted years,
but I could perfectly picture her impish face, and the cheerful sound of her
happy giggles. A group of young men joined our caravan. I only recollect that
portion of events vaguely, but I recalled the men discussing the group around
the fire at night. They’d seemed trustworthy, so they’d been accepted. The ambush
had come one night as camp was being set up. The young men attacked in silence,
without warning. Using bright red scarves, they strangled everyone in the
caravan. They strangled all of them, except for me. They hid the bodies in the
forest, and they took me with them.
My life was very
different after that fateful night. I became a Thuggee apprentice, learning the
arts of murder and robbery in the name of Mother Kali. I embraced the teachings
and the life, and I excelled. I reveled in the blood, and took pleasure in the
look of betrayal in the eyes of my victims as the light faded from them. I was
good at what I did, and I enjoyed it. I took the name Ratnakar, and it wasn’t
long before I led a Thuggee band of my own. I thought nothing of the family that
I’d lost. Until now.
I was pulled
from my reverie by screaming. The panicked and pain filled screams of a young
girl filled the camp. A girl that sounded like my sister. I rushed toward the
racket into the clearing the middle of camp. There, tied to a stake, was a
terrified child. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her face. She not only sounded
like my sister, she looked like her too. We stared at each other for a very
long time, the terrified girl and me. Her tear filled eyes seemed to see into
the deepest portion of my soul. My Thuggees told me that they’d found her,
alone, on the outskirts of a nearby village. They were going to sacrifice her
to Mother Kali. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let them hurt that
little girl.
I untied the
girl and returned her to her village. Walking back, I contemplated my life and
what I had become. I realized the monstrousness of my actions and the horrors
that I had inflicted upon the innocent. I did it all in the name of the
goddess, but I had no real certainty that the goddess wanted the sacrifices we
provided. Wanting an answer, I stopped to pray, hoping that the goddess would
take pity and answer me. I had almost given up when she did, not with words,
but with a certainty in my heart. What the Thuggees do, what I had done for so
long, was not the worship that Mother Kali desired. It was, in fact, inimical
to her purpose. I bowed my head in shame, tears of misery tracking down my
face. I had betrayed my mother, my sister, my father, and myself. I had done
evil, and I must atone.
My evil acts had
been those of excess: excess greed and excess harm. To redeem myself, I had to
commit to a life of absolute austerity. After disbanding my Thuggees, and
explaining the wrongness of our way of life, I went deep into the woods. I went
into a trance so deep it was like unto death, becoming one with Brahman and the
whole of the universe. I do not know how long I was in that trance state. It
must have been many years, for when I awoke I was imprisoned in an anthill, a valmik,
which had grown up around me. Vines twined through my long hair and beard.
Breaking out of my dirt cell, I looked around the deep woods and determined to
start a new life. A new life based on enlightenment and goodness.
For a new life,
a new name was required. A name that embodied the man I was now, and what had
shaped me. I chose Valmiki.
Author's Note: The story,
Ratnakar the Robber Chief, tells a variation of the origin of the sage Valmiki. Valmiki is the legendary author of the epic
Ramayana. The story follows the leader of a robber band named Ratnakar. This robber band worships the goddess, Kali, in one of her darker aspects. As a part of their worship, they engage in human sacrifice. Ratnakar begins to feel guilty about the pain and death. He decides to stop and begin practicing austerities in an attempt to redeem himself. Ratnakar entered a deep trance while in the hollow of an anthill, called a valmik. He took his new name from this.
A history of human sacrifice is not unknown on the Indian subcontinent, but it was probably very rare. There was a temple, in the town of Kuknur, built in the 8th or 9th century dedicated to Kali. Historical evidence, and anecdotes, suggest that human sacrifices took place there. There is also historical accounts that show human sacrifices dedicated to Kali were somewhat common in Bengal, and that they continued until the British outlawed the practice. However, stories still surface of children being sacrificed. Supposedly, there was a gang known as The Thugs or Thuggee. They would rob and strangle travelers in Kali's name until the British eradicated them.
I wanted to write a variation of this story that stays pretty true to the original telling. In the story, the gang catches a child, a young girl, and are about to kill her. Ratnakar feels pity for the young girl and stops the sacrifice. I wanted to focus on Ratnakar's empathy for this girl as the impetus to change his life. This fits with the legends and evidence that show children were often a victim of sacrifices dedicated to Kali. I focused the story on Ratnakar's memory of the events and how they affected his evolution.
Bibliography:
Indian Fables and Folklore by Shovona Devi.
Web Source.
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