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T. P. Kailasam: Fulfilment

T. P. Kailasam
Thyagaraja Paramasiva Kailasam

Fulfilment
A Playlet of THE MAHAABHAARATA
Personae:
EKAL AVYA Chief of the Nishaadas
KRISHNA
Chief of the Vrishnis
Period:
Eve of Kurukshetra

These scenes and words you'll

see and hear,
I've seen and heard before,
As king or priest, poltroon, or
peer,
Somewhere... Somewhen of
yore!
T. P. Kailasam (1884-1946) was
a prominent playwright, writer
and poet in Kannada and
English. This page is dedicated
to his writings in English.

Place:
A Forest-Glade

Place
A G lade in Ekalavya's Forest
[Time : Noontide]
FOUND: Krishna seated on a fallen tree-trunk.
[All around him a number of fawns are gathered, some nestling up close
and somethe tiniest of themeven resting their heads on his shoulders
and knees, and all nodding in synchrony with the rhythmic lylt of swell
and fall of liquid notesnow sharply spurting, now softly dribblingout of
his flute of bamboo reed.]
Ekalavya:
Krishna:
Ekalavya:
Krishna:

Ekalavya:

(entering precipitately and astounded at the uncanny tableau)

Hai! What are you doing to my fawns?
(unperturbed) Your fawns?
Aye. M y fawns!
(glancing significantly over the fawns resting on him in a dry
tone) Looks like it, does it not?
(bursting into a guffaw) Ha! Ha! Ha! 'Deed, it does n ot! But it
did amaze me seeing them nestling up to a stranger, a thing
they have never done afore! I wonder why? I know! 'Tis your
music! (coming close to Krishna) And your face too!
(approaching closer) handsome... beautif... why! I like you
myself! I wonder why?...'tis your eyes... weird... wondrous...
eyes! (with the eerie limbless grace of a king cobra Krishna
raises and drawing himself up to his full height meets
Ekalavya squarely in the eyes. Ekalavya fascinated into

Kailasam
Thanks to Sreekanth
Chakravarthy for his help with
digitizing the plays.
Poems
The Dramatist | Eternal Cain |
Truth Naked | The Lake |
Mother-Love | The Sixth
Columnist 1943 | A Monologue
| The Recipe | The Smilin'
Seven | The Artist | Kaikeyee |
Commiseration (Karna) |
Drona | Krishna | Subhadra

Plays
Purpose | Fulfilment | The
Burden | The Brahmin's Curse

drawing closer, gazes for moments together into Krishna's

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Krishna:

Ekalavya:

Krishna:

Ekalavya:

Krishna:

eyes and almost breathes his words) Do you know, there is a

somethin g about you that makes me feel that I have seen
you before, somew here! Known you before, somew hen !
Wh'... Wh'... Who are you?
(almost roughly pushing aside the fawns in his way, walks full
three paces away from Ekalavya; with stiffened neck and
averted face; in harsh, haughty and almost grating accents)
You are the barbarian bowman, the thumbless nishaada,
Ekalavya, are you not?
(with frame suddenly stiffened, limbs taut and eyes hardened
and in a voice subdued with obvious effort) Stranger though
you are, you seem to know me! (sardonically) Yes! I am the
barbarian Ekalavya! The thumbless bowman! And yet (with
furious voice and look) thumbless as I am, I am the greatest
bowman on earth, not even well-born aryans excepted! As for
my being a nishaada, I am the lord of all the nishaadas in the
land as was my father before me who died battling for his
king, as I shall too for mine!
The king your father fought and fell for, was a righteous man;
the creature you are bent on depraving your bow for, is an
adharmi!
(with chin raised on high) It is not for me to dispute the
dharma of my king; my dharma is to draw bow at my king's
behest and slay his foemen.
(facing Ekalavya; in a sneering tone) And the while you go
forth to do it, 'tis nothing to you that you leave behind you
the mother that bore you, brought you forth, brought you up,
and made you what you are! The ingrate who, in his search for
vain glory, leaves his old mother behind, a prey to the fury of
forest wolves is a coward unworthy of the name of man, let

Ekalavya:

alone, bowman!
(with a supercilious smile) Whoever you are, you look as
though you know everything; and talk like it too! But you do
not know everything; you do not know my mother! (with fists
clenched till the knuckles stand out and eyes blazing,
thunders out) L isten ! Long long ago, with me yet a wee mite
hugging at her knees, she sent my father out to battle, with a
smile on her lips, though her heart was breaking; "Go, my
love" she said, "Go and battle for your king! It is for you men
to go when the call comes, and for us women to let you go,
nay, send you forth, and await bravely, praying for your
return: and, if you do not, to lump our grief and bring up your
little ones to tread the path their sires did tread!"... Having
brought me up all my life to follow my father's lead in life and
in death, would she now let me laze at home when my king
has need of me? You called me coward! Why, if I lagged
behind, She would call me cow ard! She would deem me n o
man ! And that would be worse! (laughing hysterically) And
you thought my mother a helpless hag affrighted of a few
wolves! You do not know my mother!!

Krishna:

Ekalavya:

(with his fingers twitching impatiently) Will nothing stop you

from your mad resolve to bring your hand into a fray of no
concern to you?
Nothin g will stop me! 'Tis no mad resolve to fight for my king

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as befits the son of my sire. And you call the coming fray as of
no concern to me!? Why, with Partha's bow trained against
my beloved Gurujee, my place is in the very van of the fray!
And you lightly talk of stopping me from fighting for my
Gurujee!? Partha, the snake that has set out to sting the very
one that taught it to sting, does not know that Gurujee's other
pupil is alive. But he soon will! With my shafts will I put out
the eyes that irreverently aim arrows at Gurujee! I will slither
the arms that raise a bow against Gurujee! (in a final burst of
frenzied fury) Stop me!? Nothin g w ill stop me!
Krishna:

(suddenly changing his voice to a soft, musical one, and his

face beaming with a naive smile) What tree is that?
(approaching Ekalavya, gracefully waves his arm pointing
some far behind)

Ekalavya:

Krishna:

(set back for the moment by the change in Krishna's mien,

manner, face and voice recovers himself but partly) Wh'...
Wh'... What tree?
(still pointing) The one yonder... laden heavy with red
luscious fruit.

Ekalavya:

Oh, that! That is the Bakula Tree. Mother and I always call it
"The Birds' Tree"...but ... w hy.. do you want to know...?

Krishna:

That is the renowned Bakula is it? You see, though I am as

fond of trees, flowers, birds and fawns as you are, living most
of my life in crowded cities 'tis but rarely I can see the things I
love most.

Ekalavya:

If you are really as fond of fawns and birds as I am, you cannot
be the hard man I first took you to be; my shy fawns nestling
close to you proved that with all your harsh words to me, you
have a soft heart. Mother always held that no one who loves
innocent creatures is really hard-hearted. But believe me,
though I love fawns, calves, kine and birds, my heart is not
always soft; it turns hard, very hard when I see wolves that
hurt the fawns I love, and I kill the wolves without remorse.
You do not love wolves, do you? ...but perhaps you have never
seen them, living as you do in cities?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

The wolves, I've mostly seen, are human wolves.

"Human-Wolves?" Can such things be?

Krishna:

There are! And human-fawns too that fall an easy prey to

human-wolves as your forest-fawns to your forest-wolves;

Ekalavya:

and I kill my wolves with as little remorse as you do yours.

Do you know, it is my life's purpose to kill all the wolves in all
the forests in all the land and free all innocent creatures from

Krishna:

fear of hurt and death?

I know it; and believe me, it is my life's purpose to kill all the
human-wolves in all the land and free all human-fawns from
fear of hurt and death.

Ekalavya:

Then you are not very much unlike me in your purpose in life?
But if you hope to fulfil your purpose you must be very very
powerful... a king or something?

Krishna:

I am very much like you in my purpose, and I am very very

powerful... a king or something.

Ekalavya:

Tell me what your concern is with the coming fray? Is

Krishna:

Paartha...?
(interrupting Ekalavya with a burst of laughter, and laying his
left arm over Ekalavya and drawing him affectionately to

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himself) Ha! Ha! Ha! Let us for the moment leave Paarthas
and frays and cities and kings alone, and talk of the things
that we both love I (with an irresistible smile) You have not

Ekalavya:

told me why you and your mother call the Bakula, the birds'
tree!
(mounted on his pet hobbythe discoursing to his content on
the loved denizens of his foreststarts off in gleesome
gushing style in manner of an ingenuous boy talking of his
toys and pets) We call it the Birds' Tree because, though the
fruit it bears are sweet to the tongue, we do not eat any but
leave them all for the birds. When other climes on earth are
cold and other skies are gray, birdshundreds of themflock
to our forest and build their nests on the Bakula; they lay eggs
and hatch them; mother and I spend hours on end watching
the mother-birds teaching their little ones to fly! With the
coming of winter, when our clime is cold and our sky turns
gray, and the Bakula shorn of fruit, the birds, wee and old, all
fly away to warmer climes and brighter skies; and mother and
I fare them well shouting to the little ones "Little birds, when
the lands you fly to, turn cold in clime and gray of sky, do not
forget to come back to us! Our clime will then be warm, and
our sky a bright blue, and your tree heavy with fruit. You'll
then be big enough to build your own nests, lay your own
eggs, hatch them and teach your little ones to fly!"

[As Ekalavya engrossed in his story is speaking with eye and mind fixed on
the Bakula Tree, Krishna cautiously draws out a dagger from its sheath
swinging at his jewelled girdle; with Ekalavya's body held firm in his left
arm with one lightning sweep of his right he buries the blade in Ekalavya s
left breast as the latter is reaching the end of his story; Krishna tenderly
catches the collapsing nishaada in his arms and lowering himself carefully
to the ground, squats, with the dying Ekalavya laid across his knees.]

Ekalavya:

(fruitlessly trying to reach at the dagger still transfixed to his

breast) You Coward! 'Tis you that is no man! Coward! To stab
an unarmed man from behind his back! Why did you do it?

Krishna:

(in a firm, dispassionate tone) You said nothing would stop

Ekalavya:

you from joining in the coming fray; this has stopped you!!
(groaning in agony) Oh! 'Tis hard to die like this!

Krishna:

It seems to me you are afraid to die!

Ekalavya:

"Afraid!" Why, you fool, fear is not in my blood!

Krishna:

Then why do you grieve, so?

Ekalavya:

I am grieving because my mother will have nothing to love,

nothing to live for in all this world when I am gone!

Krishna:

If your mother will have nothing to love and nothing to live

for when you are gone and will still have nothing to love and
live for in this world when she herself goes, it will be really
good for her as she will have nothing to be born again for in
this world.

Ekalavya:

(intrigued) Then if one loves something in this world and

wants to live to love this thing, but in the meanwhile dies, is
one born once again in this world?

Krishna:

Yes. If one loves something in this world where everything

dies, and wants to live to love this thing, but in the
meanwhile dies, it is but fair, it is but just, that one should be

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born again in this World to have this thing that one loved to
live for. And G odwho is always just, who is always fair
grants every man his wish! He grants every wish of every one.
Ekalavya:

That is of course, only if one wishes for something that is

Krishna:

good?
"Good"?... What is it that you call "good?"

Ekalavya:

Do you not know? Why, good is something that brings

happiness, pleasure, to one's self and to ones round one; G od
grants it, does He not?

Krishna:

Yes. If one wishes for the thing you call "good" an d w ishes
WEL L en ough, G od grants it.

Ekalavya:

But you said He grants every wish of every one! What if one
wishes for something bad?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

"Bad?" What is it that you call "bad?"

"Bad?" Why, something that is not "good!" Something that
brings, not happiness, but misery; not pleasure but pain.
What if one wishes for something bad not for one's own self
of course, as one would never wish for that, but for ones round

Krishna:

one, God would not grant it, would He?

If one wishes for the something that you call "bad" an d
w ishes BADL Y en ough, G od grants it.

Ekalavya:

Then He treats good and bad alike!?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

Yes, He treats good and bad alike.

But why?

Krishna:

Because, in a way, He is too helpless to treat good and bad

apart.

Ekalavya:

G od "helpless"!? How?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

G od cannot tell unlike things apart.

Why not?

Krishna:

Because He has nothing to live for in this world where

everything dies; He has nothing to be born for in this world
where everything dies. He does not live in this world as of
this world, and cannot tell the unlike things of this world,
apart. But though not in this world as of this world, He
watches this His world, with His loving eyes from afar far off.
An d to the far far off distan t w atcher of this w orld, all
thin gs of this w orld look alike: man and beast! wolf and
fawn; friend and foe; forest, tree, shrub, leaf and blade of
grass, hill, dale, mountain, sand-dune and sand grain; ocean,
sea, river, brook, cloud and dew drop, all look alike to him.
And loving this whole world as His world He grants every
wish of every one. After all, happiness is only misery; pleasure
only pain.

Ekalavya:

Happiness only misery! Pleasure only pain! How?

Krishna:

If happiness is the havin g of the thing one loves, misery is

the losin g of it; if pleasure is the ow n in g of the thing one
loves, pain is the losin g of it. Your mother had the happiness
of havin g a husband like your father and that is why she
suffered the misery of losin g a husband like your father; your
mother has had the pleasure of ow n in g a son like you, and
that is why she will suffer the pain of losin g a son like you.
Other sons were born to other mothers, and other sons of
other mothers died, but their birth gave her no more pleasure
than their death gave her pain. It is the ow n in g of you in your
life that gave her pleasure and it is the losin g of the thing

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she ow n ed that will give her pain. Happiness and pleasure

enjoyed sometime in this world really spell misery and pain to
be endured some other time in this world.
Ekalavya:

But, cannot one be happy for ever?

Krishna:

Yes. If happiness is the havin g of the thing one loves, and

misery is the losin g of it, the havin g of the thing one loves
without ever losin g it, would be happiness for ever.

Ekalavya:

And what is that thing the havin g of which would bring

happiness for ever?

Krishna:

No thing of this world where everything dies; as your

happiness of havin g it must change to the misery of losin g it
when it dies leaving you behind or you die leaving it behind.

Ekalavya:

What then is the thing n ot of this w orld that would bring

happiness for ever?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

Did you want to live for something in this world?

Yes; I wanted to live long enough to kill all the wolves in the
world and to see all fawns freed from fear of hurt and death.

Krishna:

With your mind brimful of things of this world wherein is

Ekalavya:

there room to think of anything n ot of this world?

But when will I be able to think of anything n ot of this world?

Krishna:

Only when all things of this world look so alike to you that you
cannot tell unlike things of this world apart: When, man and
beast; friend and foe; wolf and fawn; forest, tree, shrub, leaf
and blade of grass; hill, dale, mountain, desert, sand-dune
and sand grain; ocean, sea, river, lake, brook, cloud and
dewdrop, all look alike to you, the havin g of any of which
giving you no happiness and the losin g of any giving you no
misery: Only when this world looks to your eyes as to a far far
off distan t w atcher of this w orld.

Ekalavya:

"Looks as to a far off distant watcher of this world"? I do not...

quite... understand!
[Ekalavya in look and voice is sinking]

Krishna:

You will not, not now; do not try to.

Ekalavya:

(with a far away look in his eyes) My father died battling

bravely for his king, and I am dying helpless... stabbed from
behind!

Krishna:

Your father died in battle, and before he died slew a good few
foemen and made many wives lose the happiness of having
their husbands, and many mothers lose the pleasures of
having their sons; but you spent all your life in the forest
freeing innocent fawns from fear of hurt and death; and you
regret it!? Would you like to slay a few foemen before you
died?

Ekalavya:

...and make a few mothers lose...no! If I must die... 'tis best I

die... like this! But my poor mother had set her heart on my
following my father's lead! ... Do you know, coward as I know
you are, I cannot dislike you, hard as I am trying to! Who are
you?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

Krishna:

I am your big brother.

If I were strong and not dying, I should laugh! Call yourself my
big brother after slaying me! How can you be my big brother
and still kill me?
Why may I not? The fawns that were all born in this forest as

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Ekalavya:
Krishna:

Ekalavya:

you were too, you have been their big brother, have you not?
(his eyes brightening; with a sad sigh) The "big brother of my
fawns"! I hope I have been their big brother!
Now, the wolves that were born in this forest, if they had not
hurt your fawns, you would have been their big brother too,
would you not?
Yes, if they had n ot hurt my fawns!

Krishna:

But if after some time of n ot hurting, they had started to hurt

the fawns, you would have killed them, brothers or no
brothers?

Ekalavya:
Krishna:

Yes. I would have!

There! You see, one very big brother may kill his little
brothers to free his still smaller brothers from hurt and death.

Ekalavya:
Krishna:

But I have not hurt or killed any of your little brothers...

You are a human-wolf that w ill kill my human fawns if not
stopped!

Ekalavya:
Krishna:

But my king...
You, your king and his friends are wolves that hurt my
human-fawns, an d you shall all go.

Ekalavya:

(with a weak smile) And Paartha, with his bow and shafts... is
a feeble fawn perhaps!
Your king, his friends, are wolves that hurt my fawns; Paartha

Krishna:

and his friends are wolves that might hurt my fawns, and
they shall go too.
Ekalavya:
Krishna:

But why kill me unfairly with a dagger whilst I was unarmed?

My killing of you was no more unfair than your killing of your
wolves with steel shafts whilst you stood yards beyond the
reach of their fangs. It is the purpose for the killing and not
the man n er of the killing that decides the fairness of the

Ekalavya:

killing.
It is hard to talk with you! You are far too clever for me! And
yet you sound truthful...

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

I am truthful!
If you are, can I trust you to truthfully do something for me?

Krishna:
Ekalavya:

You may trust me.

I do not know how you will do it, but I feel you are clever
enough to do it... Will you somehow ... an yhow ... spare my

Krishna:

poor mother from even a moment's misery and pain of losing

a son... like me?
(earnestly) I truthfully promise you that I will somehow ...
an yhow save your poor mother from even a moment's misery
and pain of losing a son like you!

[With a faint smile on his lips Ekalavya drops his head back, dead. Krishna
gazes into the dead eyes and tears trickle out of his own; raising the body,
presses his lips on the bleeding breast and forthwith lets the body drop
with a thud, muttering, "Clay! Clay!! Clay!!!"]
Krishna:

(With the most intense disgust a human face and voice can
muster) If I am not very careful I shall have some thing to love
in this world where everything dies! I shall have something to
live for in this world where everything dies. I shall have
something to be born for in this world where everything rots!
Clay! Clay!! (to the body) Yes, little brother, you shall be born
again to kill all the wolves that hurt your fawns!

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[Rises up. Drawing himself up to his full height, with eyes blazing and face
grim as death itself, hisses his words between clenched teeth.]
Krishna:

An d n ow to kill the w olves that hurt M Y faw n s!

A Voice:

(from behind the trees) Where are you, Ekalavya? If you

wander about hungry in the hot mid-day sun, you will soon be

Krishna:

too ill to battle for your king; where are you ?

His poor old mother! M other? (his face suddenly takes on a
grotosquely humorous expression; he bursts into an unearthly
guffaw of laughter sounding less of a human than of a hyena)
HA! HA!! HAA!!! MOTHER! BROTHER!! SISTER!!! ... HA! HA!!
HA!! BALABHADRA! SUBHADRA!!! SUYODHANA!! PAARTHA!!
HA! HAA!! (bending down lays hold of the body by a leg and
drags it into the cover of a bush nearby ... Whilst about to exit)
But my promise to you to... somehow ... an yhow ... save
your mother from even a momen t of the pain of losin g
a son like you! Yes, little brother, I will keep my promise!

[Slipping his hand into the bush draws out the dagger from the body.
With the blood-stained dagger clenched in his right hand he crouches and
silently creeps towards THE TREES FROM WHENCE THE VOICE CAME with
all the caution and grace of a panther stalking its prey, and is lost to view.]
The stage is empty and silent for fully a minute.
Sudden ly, a piercin g scream of an guish is heard from behin d the
trees.
Curtain drops forthwith

A NO TE on Fulfilme n t
'Fulfilment', a sequel to 'Purpose', was created on the spur of the moment when Kailasam declaimed his
then half-written-typed play 'Purpose' to Dr. (Sir) C. R. Reddy (Founder of the Andhra University and
later Pro-chancellor of the Mysore University) who naively asked Kailasam after the Recital, "Well! What
becomes of Ekalavya then?" Kailasam's answer was, 'Fulfilment!', the play full-fledged, of three Acts; In
the last act Ekalavya meets his end by Krishna's hands. Needless to say, that Reddy was struck by this
recital. He said simply "Kailasam! you must write the whole series!"

According to Kailasam,
"Jaraasandhaha Chaydi-raajo mahaatma
Mahaabaahuhu Ekalavyo nishaadaha
Ekyckasaha twaddhitaartham hataaha MAYAIVA"
The Mahaabhaarata
which he could recall at that moment lent support to his creation and there the episode ended.]

Posted by HRK
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Labels: Mahabharata, Plays

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