Madalinga: A Village Tale

ByMASTI VENKATESA IYENGAR
(Rendered by the Author from the Kannada original)

Often are names of villages in our country
Beauteous and full of meaning; and it is
A real delight to think of them, They show
How simple and how kindly is the mind
Of this our people; also how the stories
Of great epics a million times repeated
Have sunk into their hearts. You also see
How this same people’s mind and fancy play
Upon the tales so heard and build detail
And grow to gentle laughter. Once this mind
And fancy may a tale of sorrow make
And for a while be sad. If you will hear
I have some tales to tell which you may like.

The second place name of which I would speak
is that by which our people call a valley
Amidst the hills through which you pass on leaving
Chiknaikanhally for Tumkur. It is
A long and mighty range of towering hills.
Our people call the vale of which I speak
The ‘Vale of Madalinga.’ To hear the tale
They tell of it would melt a heart of stone.

Long, long ago, in a village near these hills
There were two sisters, both bright handsome girls.
The elder of the two became the wife
Of Madalinga, her mother’s brother’s son.
If Madalinga was but a proper name,
Or the story-teller talked of Madavaniga
Which is the word for bridegroom and it turned
To Madalinga, I know not. Madalinga
Upon a proper day had travelled up
To these girls village, thinking he should take
His wife to his own village home. It was
The first time that the married girl was leaving
Her mother and her sister. So these two
Accompanied the young man and his bride.

Madalinga was a handsome youth, well built.
It was a pleasure for the eyes to see
His youthful figure; broad and deep the chest;
A large full face; bright eyes; and when he smiled
The charm of lip and teeth and young moustache
Was something past description. He with wife
And mother and sister-in-law walked on a way
That through this valley passed to reach his village.
The young man was no stranger to the women.
So they were free with him and talked and laughed
And walked on joyously. The younger girl
Said to the elder: “Sister, sure I know not
How it is possible for you to leave us.
How you made up your mind I cannot think.”
The elder girl as moved to tears. Being married
She must go with her man. It was the right
And proper thing and yet without a doubt
It was a wrench to leave the younger sister
Who has grown with her from her childhood up
And as It were become a second self.
Her sister’s words disturbed her inner being.
She spoke not and was silent and in thought.
The mother to the younger daughter said:
“When on the morrow your own young man comes
Will you not go with him? You will; you can.”
The young girl at the words ‘your own young man’
Pretended offence and knit up her brow
And violently shook her head and said:
“I want no young man.” Young Madalinga looked
At his bright sister-in-law and laughed and said:
“We all know what this means. For, every girl
Says just these words. She wants no young man. No. 
And yet let but a fellow come and call,
She runs with him. This is the way of girls.”
His sister-in-law smiled in reply and said–
It was a joy to see her bright young face,
The smile upon her lips, her shining eyes–
“Our sister’s husband has been married now
For three days and no more; and yet he thinks
He must know everything. How sharp he is!
How quick to learn!” It was fine mockery.
The hour was just past mid-day; the bright light
Lay full on all things; and to these it was
A day of joy; and boy and girls had chewed
The betel leaf. The young man’s heart was tuned
To love and frolic, and this sister-in-law
Was talking as to challenge him in play.
If maid should mock and challenge youth in play
Will youth not answer? Young Madalinga did.
He laughed and said to his bright sister-in-law:
“How should you know if I know everything
Or do not know. If you are unwilling
To leave your sister, come with her and see
How much I know or not.” The girl felt shy
To hear such words and bent her head a little
And at her mother glanced.

For some time then
They walked in silence. But when they had walked
A mile or less the elder sister spoke
And said to her mother: “Mother, do agree
To send my sister with me. He’ll agree
To take her too. I cannot leave my sister
And go away and live. He has married me.
Can he not marry her beside and have
The two of us? It would not be a burden.”
She begged the mother hard. As thus she begged,
In young Madalinga’s heart desire arose
In very truth. The sister was a beauty.
Her lips ripe red, her nose with nose ring decked,
The small ears with the pendants and that brow
Handsome with saffron spot, her head of hair
A very crown of glory and on it
The jasmine setting off the screw of gold
That held the hair. He saw it all and lost
His heart to it and turning to her mother
Looked for her answer to her daughter’s prayer.
So did the younger sister, silently
And more than once. Madalinga and this girl
Desired each one the other deep at heart.
Howcould they do this so incontinently,
Does any person ask? How do I know?
Have you at no time watched in their grand flight,

Their wings outspread, those lords of air, the kites?
With outspread wings they float, female and male,
In grave and solemn flight high up the sky
And as they fly rise higher and still higher.
Think you they speak to each other or make
Movement to show desire? I think not so.
Intent on reaching heights they gyrate up
And as they reach the higher fields of air
They cry a long cry in their high shrill note
Proclaiming victory in their ascent.
Whoever watches them can see so much.
But who has seen, however close he watched,
In this great tourney of ascending flight,
Desire like lightning, thin, invisible,
From cloud to cloud, flow out, from heart to heart?
Yet as they fly, all in a moment, both
Stop in their flight and with a single mind
Both kites drop down to some tall tree and there
Their love celebrate. This is Nature’s law.
And that is why I say, how should I know
At what particular moment Madalinga
And his wife’s sister fell to love each other
Or how so soon? This only I know well.
They pledged their loves to each other and waited,
All eagerness, to hear the mother’s answer.

When they had walked some steps the mother spoke
In answer to her elder daughter: “Child,
What talk is this? What man is there who can
Two wives both young like you? It could not be.”
The young man, in his eagerness to take
The younger sister with his wife, spoke up:
“Am I an old man, aunt? The girls are young
But know what honest living is; and I,
If you should give the other too to me,
Can surely hold and cherish her; and they,
The two alike, will be true wives to me.
It is no rare thing for one man to have
Two wives.’ As, in his eagerness of heart,
Young Madalinga thus spoke up to convince
His aunt and mother-in-law, they had all reached

This valley of the which it is I tell.
Deep down it lies and low, and just beside
Stands a stupendous hill. The path goes round
Its bottom and reaches the farther side.
Quite half a league of road it is, thus walked;
While, if you climb the hill up on one side
And on the other side descend, it would
Be just about a fourth or so as far.
The stoutest-hearted men that are would choose
To round the hill rather than this ascent:
So steep it is. The mother of the girls
Said to the son-in-law: “Without a doubt
They are well brought up. Yet it were not wise
To ask that both of them should be content
With but one husband. It is desirable,
To live a good life, that each maiden have
A home all to herself. If you would take
The younger cousin too to wife, would you
Prove us your strength by going up this hill
With to it and down the other side
Within the time we take to walk around?”
The woman spoke thus, for the greater part,
In banter. Would she had not spoken so!
The youth was stout of heart and limb, his strength
Full and unfailing, and his heart desired
To own the younger sister if it could;
And on the top of it the mother threw
This challenge to his competence. Is there
A youth who will not answer such a challenge
Made by a woman? Young Madalinga said;
“Agreed. wards I will ascend this hill
And reach the road upon the other side;
And when I reach there give the girl to me.
When tired and weary on the path I stand
Awaiting you, and you three come to me,
Let her pour water on my hands and serve me,
Ministering comfort as a loving wife.
Here, take this vessel.” So he spoke and cast
One single lookupon theyounger girl
And forthwith started to ascend the hill,
His to it. The day was gruelling hot;

The hill an endless height. He ’gan to climb.
When he had climbed-some steps the mother-in-law
Looked at him and doubted if he could
Finish the climb in such a torrid sun
And reach the other side alive, and cried:
“My son, come . It is not meet to try
So mad a feat. Come . It is not wise.”
The young man shouted in reply: “Not I.
Walk fast to meet me as I reach the path
Upon the other side and give me drink.”
And up and up he went. His aunt and wife
And sister-in-law, all three, were grieved at heart
That banter should have led to this wild folly.
So that the young man might not wait for them,
Fatigued and thirsty on the path, they walked Apace.

It was a fearful afternoon
And they felt thirsty; and for all of them
There was one single little pot of water,
And not a drop of water anywhere
Within reach. As the mother panted hard
The elder daughter said to her: “Oh mother,
You drink a little from the pot.” “No, mother,”
The younger said: “If we so thirsty are
How much more thirsty will our brother be?
Keep it for him and after he has drunk
You take the rest.” The mother said: “My child,
You do speak sooth. If you and are tired,
In going round the hill, and are so thirsty
The young man going up the steep ascent
How far more thirsty would he not be!  Come,
Let us and meet him on the path and you
Pour on his hand some water. Let him drink,
And I shall drink thereafter.” Thus they walked.
This story has already grown too long
And it is needless to describe to you
How poor Madalinga climbed that bold ascent
In that intolerable heat of noon.
What need to tell that ere on the other side
He stood upon the path, he was fatigued,
Despite his strength, to death. Thirsty were not
The word for what he felt. His throat was parched
Dust dry; and what of life was left to him
Was like a light a-flicker to go out.
Yet as he reached the path and these three came,
Hiseyes did rest upon the younger girl.
Hecould not speak a word but smiled a little
With joy of having won, and held his hand
For water from the sister-in-law’s hands.
The girl herself was proud that her great lover
Had triumphed in the contest. Tears of joy
Rose all unbidden tohereyes, likepearls
Withwhichherbeingwouldthat lover garland.
She stepped to him, eager to give him drink,
And in the hurry of her eagerness
Dropped the small pot of water on the ground.
Within the second, all the water spilt,
Not a drop was left. His life athrob,
Poor young Madalinga at this mishap cast
A look of despair on his beloved
And turned his head aside and lay quite still.
The mother cried “Alas,” and sat beside
The youth and with the corner of her cloth
Fanned him to give him comfort. The elder girl
Cried out: “You’ve killed my husband,” and abused
Her mother and her sister. “Envious
And wicked girl, you could not bear the thought
That I should have so good a husband. So
You spilt the water on the ground to kill him.”
The younger girl seemed not to hear the words,
Nor answered. She picked up the pot again
And ran to where within the shortest distance
Some water might be found to save her lover.
Before she could return poor Madalinga
Among the boulders there had breathed his last.

Why shall I describe what thereafter followed?
The very stones that witnessed all the grief
Of that sad day yet seem as if in gloom
From memory of that sorrow. There be those
WhosaythatevennowMadalinga’sspirit
In desolation wanders through the vale
From thirst unsatisfied. Some others still,
While walking here, dread lest they see the spirit;
And some of them occasionally think
That they have seen it and are terror-stricken.