Fridays child: Or

Tecinkurajan

how

Tej Singh

became

Sanjay Subrahmanyam
Ecole des Hautes Etudes
Paris

en

Sciences Sociales

You were born on Friday, Tecinku my son.

The Rani was born on Friday, Tecinku my son.
Your horse too was born on Friday, Tecinku my son.
This fight too began on Friday, Tecinku my son.
This very day too is Friday, Tecinku my son.
Stay today, and go tomorrow, Tecinku my son.
Then you will win the fight and return, Tecinku my son.

1
Tecinkurājan Katai
Introduction

The

eighteenth century has, it has often been remarked, a paradoxical place in the
historiography of South Asia. It is a century that is often seen exclusively through
the lenses of the archives of the expanding English East India Company, when in
fact it is remarkably rich in terms of a diverse and multilayered documentation in
a number of Asian and European languages. Shorthands such as prosperity or
decline are still used by historians to sum up a century, the main characteristic of
which is complexity, and where a great deal of fluidity characterises the very identity
*

A version of this text was presented at a seminar on Sources and Time at the
Ecole Franaise dExtreme-Orient, Pondicherry, in January 1997. I am grateful to Muzaffar Alam,
Stewart Gordon, Alf Hiltebeitel, Sunil Kumar, Velcheru Narayana Rao, David Shulman and
Sulochana Subrahmanyam for help in preparing this text.

Acknowledgements:

Cu.

Canmukacuntaram, ed., Tecinkurāja

n Katai, Madras, 1984, lines 1,695-1,701.

70

of the participants. Now, processes of both individual and collective identity

formation in South Asia can often crystallise around moments of extreme physical
or emotional violence. Just as individuals are marked, albeit differentially, by their
own acts of routine and non-routine violence, and by that which is acted out on
them, collective memory too seems to be simultaneously attracted to and repelled
by such violent poles of magnetism. Existing collectives even redefine themselves
radically in the aftermath of being identified as victims of a pogrom or after a joint
act of cathartic violence or as a consequence of the burden of guilt carried over
from actual or vicarious participation in some such act. Such violence acquires a
particular heaviness and significance when it is not strategic or premeditated, but
somehow purposeless-a gesture whose meaning is left to be unravelled by its
notional heirs. Epic violence usually takes this form, whatever the ostensible reason
for it (the kidnapping of women, the struggle for a kingdom), and the violence that
results is out of all proportion to the cause. Indeed, this may precisely be what
makes the Epic, the seamless and effortless process by which quantum leaps in
rhetorical and real violence are achieved.
The central incident described and discussed in this article is a violent one, and
despite its many versions, contains certain core elements. Reading these versions,
we find that they all concern a Bundela Rajput warrior, his horse, his personal
deity, a Muslim boon-companion, and a young wife, not necessarily in that order.
It centres around the fortress-town of Senji in northern Tamil Nadu.
Since it is an eighteenth century story, it seems logical that it should begin with
that Great Event which defines for so many of our historian colleagues the essence
of the Indian eighteenth century: the death of the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb
(Alamgir), in early 1707. We are in the Kamatak Payanghat, that is to say southeastern India, in a land that the Mughals have just conquered with a fair deal of
difficulty. The major Mughal general and war-leader, the Iranian Zulfiqar Khan
Nusrat Jang has pulled out of the region to pursue his political career in the Mughal
court; his deputy, the Afghan Daud Khan Panni is about to do the same. A letter
dated 15 February 1710 from Monsieur Hebert of the French Company in Pondicherry explains (only somewhat inaccurately) how matters stand, to his principals
in France. He writes of the death of Aurangzeb, and of his having left three sons,
who declared war in order to possess the kingdoms of their father, Azemtara who
was the oldest having been defeated in the month of October 1708 by Chaalem his
brother, he killed himself at the end of the combat; Cambax his other brother who
had retired to Golconda was abandoned by his soldiers and wounded by Davud
Kan governor of the Camatic who made him prisoner; this prince died three days
after, and Chaalem who is aged 70 years is left master of all the estates of his
father. It is suggested, moreover, that this struggle, and the diversion of Daud
2
Of particular interest for the Karnatak Payanghat in the period is the colourful account of Niccolao
Manucci, Mogul India (1653-1708) or Storia do Mogor, trans. William Irvine, 4 Vols, reprint Delhi,
1990, Vol. III, pp. 366-87, passim.
3
Archives Nationales, Paris (hereafter AN), Archives du Ministère des Colonies, Correspondançe
Générale, C69, fols. 1-24, lettre de Mr Hebert à Pondichéry le 15 février 1710.

71

Khan towards the north, interrupted a process of Mughal consolidation in the

south. Thus, rather than turn his attention to Madurai, Tanjavur and other territories
at the extreme southern limit of the Mughal domains, Shah Alam had instead
camped outside Aurangabad, where he was to be found with his two sons (each
of whom is greatly jealous of the other) by early 1710. Shah Alam, the French
noted with ill-concealed contempt, likes war not at all, and has always led a soft
and effeminate life.
The intricate manoeuvrings at the Mughal court in the series of short reigns
between the death of Aurangzeb and the emergence of Farrukhsiyar enabled Daud
Khan to improve his own standing rapidly. By 1713, he was the sbadr of Gujarat
province, having left the lower Karnatak entirely to his own deputy, a dark, shortstatured Navayat from the Bijapur Deccan called Muhammad Said, titled
Saadatullah Khan, who was now responsible directly to the Mughal centre of
authority in the Deccan, at Haidarabad. Between that year and his death two decades
later in 1732, Saadatullah Khan strove to carve out of the Kamatak Payanghat a
viable domain that would offer him sufficient autonomy, while nevertheless stopping
considerably short of a direct repudiation of Mughal rule. This is a process that
has received surprising little attention from historians, who have shown a marked
preference for the politics of the Karnatak after the mid-I730s, with the so-called
Anglo-French Wars.4 We can observe Saadatullah Khan at work first of all from
the Persian materials produced at his own behest, but equally from the letters and
papers of the European factories perched on the maritime edge of his zone of
operations. These, while not uniformly hostile in character, are nevertheless less
complimentary to him than his own panegyrists, or than the early nineteenth century
Tamil regional chronicle written by Senji Narayana Pillai, and collected by the
Survey of India.b6
It may be useful to begin our consideration with a brief examination of the main
text patronised by Saadatullah Khan, the SardNdma of Jaswant Rai Munshi.1
4

See, however, the brief discussion in Susan Bayly, Saints, Goddesses and Kings: Muslims and
Christians in South Indian Society, 1700-1900, Cambridge, 1989, pp. 151-54; also N.S. Ramaswami,
Political History of Carnatic Under the Nawabs, New Delhi, 1984, and for revenue details, M.A.
Nayeem, Mughal Administration of Deccan underNizamul MulkAsafJah (1720-1748 A.D.), Bombay,
1985. For a detailed and very useful discussion of the pre-1707 period see J.F. Richards, The
Hyderabad Karnatik, 1687-1707, Modern Asian Studies, Vol. 9(2), 1975, pp. 241-60.
5
For further details, see Muzaffar Alam and Sanjay Subrahmanyam, Exploring the Hinterland:
Trade and Politics in the Arcot Nizamat, 1700-1732, in Rudrangshu Mukherjee and Lakshmi
Subramanian, eds, Politics and Trade in the Indian Ocean World: Essays in Honour of Ashin Das

Gupta, Delhi, 1998, pp. 113-64.

6
ra Carittiram, ed. V.R. Ramachandra Dikshitar, Madras Government
ā
&R
j
amacr; Cavist
Karnātaka kkal
Oriental Series, Madras, 1952.
7
Oriental and India Office Collections, London (hereafter OIOC), Persian Mss., I.O. , 3,177 (Ethé
d ma
i
ā of Jaswant Rai, son of Bhagwant Rai, son of Sundardas, son of Malik
N
2,845), The Sa
Haidar, takhallus Munshi, fols. 1-184 (copy dated 1849); in the same mss., ff. 193-204 is the
dat taking the history of Arcot to Ghulam Murtaza Khan. A partial translation may
ā
-i Sa
c
i
ā
Waq
be found in S.A.R. Bukhari, The Carnatic under the Nawabs as revealed through the Sayeed Nama
of Juswant Rai, M. Litt. thesis, Madras University, 1965.

72/

This elaborate work, in ornate Persian prose, was authored by a poet and writer in
Saadatullah Khans circle, himself a Saraswat Brahmin with origins in northern
India (and whose family had at one time even been settled in Ghazni). It carries
the account of its heros activities as far as 1723, beginning with his birth at Bijapur
on 17 Jumada I 1061 (28 April 1651 ). Jaswant Rai notes that he had composed a
niasi7awT that caught his patrons attention, and was hence commissioned to write
the court chronicle that is the Sa id Nama; the chronicle itself follows a classical
pattern, beginning with the birth and family of its hero, his horoscope, and stresses
throughout the fact that he is a Sayyid and thus of far higher status than most of the
other faujdars who operated in the Deccan andKamatak in that epoch. The main
body of the work details Saadatullah Khans attempts to settle the area and his
relations with the refractory zamindars in annual campaigns to collect peshkash;
these include the Madurai Nayaka dynasty by then resident at Tiruccirappalli, and
the Maratha rajas of Tanjavur. Year after year, even as an aged warrior of seventy,
Saadatullah Khan seems to have set out personally to demand their dues from
these rulers in an unending series of confrontations and minor skirmishes.
Interestingly, this is confirmed both by the Dutch Companys records, and by the
peshkash documents of the region.8

Saadatullah Khan was, however, interested in more than revenue collection

alone. Jaswant Rai speaks of his settlement of numerous market-towns, and his
patronage to a new port, Saadat Pattan, located near the port of Covelong in
Cengalpet. European documents too speak of this port as a potential rival to English
Madras, or to Dutch Sadras and Pulicat, a profile that it enjoyed briefly in the late
171 Os and early 1720s. Further, the expansion of the town of Arcot itself, developed
and patronized by Daud Khan, who seems to have preferred for some reason not
to use either Senji, Velur or Kancipuram as the principal centre of his activity, was
taken considerably farther by Saadatullah Khan. In the 1690s, Arcot was a minor
fortress and a way-station; later, it became a major political centre. Amongst the
Mughal functionaries who came south with the Mughal advance, and settled down
in the Kamatak Payanghat in these years, were men of differing ethnicities, from
Afghans like Daud Khan himself, to Navayats like Saadatullah Khan, to a number
of Khattris who appear closely associated with Saadatullah Khan from 1710
onwards. Most conspicuous among these are Lala Dakhni Rai, perhaps the real
hero in some respects of the Sa id N3ma, and Lala Tod4r Mal, both of whom find
extensive mention in the contemporary European records, as well as the later Tamill
chronicle; others such as Daya Ram and Sundar Das are also referred to periodically.
8
Algemeen Rijksarchief, The Hague (hereafter ARA), Overgekomen Brieven en Papieren, VOC.
1811, p. 58, Daniel Bernard and Council at Nagapattinam to Batavia, 28 November 1711, for an
expedition against Mysore; VOC. 1863, fols. 295v-296r, letter from Daniel Bernard and Council at
Nagapattinam to Batavia, 10 August 1715, where Saadatullah Khan is mentioned as being at
Cidambaram, while on his return from Tiruccirapalli to Arcot.
9

See the contemporary account by Bhimsen, Nuskha-i Dilkusha, trans. Jadunath Sarkar, in V.G.
Khobrekar, ed., Sir Jadunath Sarkar Birth Centenary Commemoration Volume: English Translation
of Tarikh-i-Dilkasha (Memoirs of Bhimsen Relating to Aurangzibs Deccan Campaigns), Bombay,
1972, pp. 200-201, 206.

73

The Bundela

Heritage

Among the elements brought into the area by the process of Mughal expansion
group of Central Indian Rajputs, the Bundelas. Their activities in the Deccan,
beginning from the late seventeenth century, are detailed by the chronicler Bhimsen,
himself a Kayastha in the service of Rao Dalpat Bundela, a subordinate and close
supporter of Zulfiqar Khan, who participated in the Mughal siege of Senji in the
1690s, and received a mansab of 3,000/3,000 before his death in 1707. Rao Dalpat,
we may note, was himself the son of Rao Subhkaran Bundela, and a great-grandson
of that most celebrated of Bundela chiefs, Bir Singh Deo, through his younger son
Bhagwan Rao (founder of the Datiya princedom in western Bundelkhand). Bir Singh
(sometimes called Nar Singh as well), the ruler of Orcha, is of course best known
was a

for having waylaid and assassinated the Mughal chronicler and ideologue, Shaikh
Abu 1 Fazl at the behest of Prince Salim (later Jahangir) in August 1602; for these
and other services, he was made a Maharaja by Jahangir in March 1623, and his
older son Jujhar Singh was given a mansab of2,000/1,000 at much the same time.
On Bir Singh Deos death in 1627, relations between the Bundela clan that had
grouped around him and the Mughal state grew rather tense. Bir Singh himself is
reputed to have been given to plundering Mughal caravans in the latter half of the
1620s, and to have thus amassed a fortune of legendary dimensions. One of his
sons, Bhagwan Rao, who had spent a fair amount of time in Jahangirs service,
continued to pursue a safe strategy by serving Shahjahan, as did his descendants
Subhkaran and Rao Dalpat. By the mid-1650s, their hold over their watan jagir at
Datiya was thus secure enough, with support from the Mughal centre. Bhagwan
Raos older brother, Jujhar Singh, chose a more risky route by resisting Mughal
efforts to levy a heavy peshkash on him. In 1628, while holding a mansab of
4,000/4,000, he rebelled against Shahjahan in the very first year of the latters
reign, and was forced to submit by the Mughal commander Mahabat Khan. He
then returned briefly to Mughal service, but chafed under it; in 1634 he rebelled
once more, this time with his son Bikramjit.
This rebellion is one of the more celebrated episodes of the first half of
Shahjahans reign, leading to the despatch of a massive Mughal force of some
20,000 troops under Khwaja Sabir Nusrat Jang, titled Khan-i Dauran, against Orcha
in which two of Jujhar Singhs own younger brothers participated. As recounted
by the official Mughal chronicler, Abd al-Hamid Lahauri in the Padshah Nma,
the chief provocation was that Jujhar Singh, having killed the Gond raja Bhim
Narayan and seized his treasure, refused to submit to the Mughal courts farmans
or negotiate with Mughal representatives. The Mughal army thus advanced
inexorably into his territory and laid siege to Orcha, which was taken by escalade;
meanwhile, Jujhar Singh fled to another fort under his control, Cauragarh. Still
under attack, he then fled this fort in turn by night, and was eventually forced to
abandon his treasures and the women of the family (who were captured by the
pursuing Mughal forces); Jujhar and Bikramjit, writes Lahauri, after escaping

74

from the bloody conflict, had fled to hide themselves in the wilds, where they
were killed with great cruelty by the Gonds who inhabit that country. 10
Orcha was thus handed over to one of those who had collaborated with the
Mughals in the expedition, Devi Singh Bundela of Canderi. But this solution caused
discontent among the Bundelas, and a compromise was struck; from 1641, the
fortified centre was given over to one of Bir Singh Deos younger sons, Pahar
Singh, and after his death in 1654 to his son Sujan Singh, who for his part died in
1667-68. The descendants of Pahar Singh retained control until the late 1680s;
thereafter their line became extinct, and control of Orcha was taken over by a
collateral line, of Udot Singh (descended from Raja Madhukar, father of Bir Singh
Deo). Udot Singh survived Aurangzeb by some distance, and on his death in 1736,
was succeeded by his son Prithvi Singh.
All this must be understood, argues a recent historian of the Bundelas, in terms
of a sort of primal land hunger (bhfimiycivat) which gave rise to the twin strategies
of loyalty and rebellion.&dquo; Thus, writes the same historian, D.H.A. Kolff, it was
seldom enough that a local chief contented himself with the parganas the emperor
was pleased to grant him. To win respect and a somewhat redoubtable following,
it was necessary to make an effort oneself, either in the shape of connived at
bhumiyvat or of open confrontation with the centre. Of course, some of the
Bundelas themselves saw their history in terms of the dialectic between the group
that resisted the Mughals (the dang3hiBundelas, from the Hindi dang3 revolt,
This
rebellion), and those who collaborated with them (the ~&/!a/!f Bundelas).
division was sometimes equated to a geographical one: the families from western
Bundelkhand (Orcha, Datiya and Canderi, for example) were seen as badshdhi,
those from eastern Bundelkhand as dangdhf, even if Jujhar Singh hardly fits in the
former mould. In fact, the underlying purpose of this division appears
retrospectively to be to give a larger rationale and context for the actions of the
best-known of the Bundela chieftains of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth
centuries, Chatrasal ( 1649-1731 ), son of Campat Rai Bundela, and ruler ofPanna
in eastern Bundelkhand.In his chronicle, Jaswant Rai makes it amply clear that Saadatullah Khan had
excellent relations with a number of Bundelas, who had been in Zulfiqar Khans
service. Some of them continued to enjoy his confidence; one of these was a certain
Sarup Singh, the fortress-commander (qiladar) of Senji. From the Persian
chronicle, we are able to derive this Bundela commanders lineage: he was the
=

10
Abd al-Hamid Lahauri, dsh
ā Nāma, eds, Maulavi Kabir al-Din Ahmad, Maulavi Abd alP
h
ā
Rahim and W.N. Lees, 2 vols, Calcutta, 1866-72, Vol. II, pp. 94-96.
11
Dirk H.A. Kolff, Naukar, Rajput and Sepoy: The Ethnohistory of the Military Labour Market
in Hindustan, 1450-1850, Cambridge, 1990, pp. 125-27, quoting the nineteenth-century British
colonial official, W.H. Sleeman.
12
We may note that Chatrasal is seen in some circles at least as a nationalist hero, rather like
Shivaji today; a comic-book in the series Amar Chitra Katha is devoted to him. For a biography, see
Bhagwan Das Gupta, Life and Times of Maharaja Chhatrasal Bundela, New Delhi, 1980.

75
son of Mitra Sen, son of Candrabhan, son of Nar Singh Deo Bundela.3 Now,
Candrabhan Singh (or Candraman), we are aware, held a mansab of 1,000/600 by
the late 1620s (in the first year of Shahjahans reign), then went on to participate
in campaigns in the Deccan, as also in the celebrated expedition against his own
brother Jujhar Singh. In later years, we find him having risen further in the hierarchy
(to a rank of 1,500/800), at Qandahar, then in the Balkh campaign, and then once
more (around 1650) in action at Qandahar as a Mughal mansabdr.14 As for Mitra
Sen, he is mentioned episodically in the context of the Mughal succession wars of
the late 1650s; later, he appears as a mansabddr during the early part of Aurangzebs
reign with a rank of 1,500/1,200.s

The Mechanics of the Contest

On Christmas Eve 1713, the English East India Companys Council at Madras
laconically noted receipt of a letter from Thomas Frederick Esqr Depty. Govern
of Fort St. David datd 20th ins advising the death of Serope Singh Rajah of
Chingee.6 Sarup Singh had in his latter years been something of a thorn in the
Companys flesh, for a decade preceding this letter, and it must have been with a
sense of relief that this news was received. The troubles-which involved the
English factory and fortress at Devanampattinam (Kadalur)-had reached a head
in 1710, when Sarup Singh had captured and held two Englishmen in Senji fort,
on account of a dispute he had with a certain Richard Farmer, a Company servant.
In the ensuing set of skirmishes, the English attacked and burnt some 50 or 60
villages near the coast (and some tens of thousands of pagodas worth of grain),
which fell under Sarup Singhs jurisdiction; articles of peace were eventually
signed between the two in May 1712.&dquo;
French Company letters from Pondicherry elaborate on the aftermath of Sarup
Singhs death. In a letter of February 1714, Du Livier at Fort St. Louis (Pondicherry)
wrote to his principals of having received news of the death of a Gentile Prince
called Soubrousingue, governing the Gingy country 15 leagues from here. It was
further claimed that Sarup Singh had handed over his Government to his brother
while awaiting the return of his son who was at the Court to solicit the continuation
[of the governorship], and that the Divan or Chief Intendant named Mathmet Sal
13
Jaswant Rai, Sa
d Nāma, OIOC, Persian Mss., I.O., 3,177, fol. 102.
ı
M. Athar Ali, The Apparatus of Empire: Awards of Ranks, Offices and Titles to the Mug
al
h
The
Nobility (1574-1658), Delhi,1985, entries S-252, S-561, S-1,649, S-3,938 and S-7,569; also
h Jah
ā
Sh
n Nāma ā
ā
ān, trans. A.R. Fuller, eds, W.E. Begley and Z.A. Desai, Delhi,
In Kh
c
of
yat

14
Cf.

pp. 110, 150. The last mention of Candrabhan dates to A.D. 1657-58.
On Mitra Sen, see M. Athar Ali, The Mughal Nobility under Aurangzeb,

1990,
15

Bombay, 1968,

p.

198.
16

Records of Fort St. George, Diary and Consultation Book of 1713, Madras, 1929, p. 188.
Records of Fort St. George, Diary and Consultation Book of 1712, Madras, 1929, pp. 5-6, 7576, 88,
passim. Note that Senr. Nichola Manuch, former inhabitant of Madras now at Pondicherry
is alleged to have played a role in the negotiations. Also see Diary and Consultation Book of 1713.
17

p. 183.

76

had sent 200 horsemen and 500 pions, to extract a considerable sum from the
successor of this governor .18 To translate this negotiation into the parlance of
Mughal historians, there were two issues under examination. One was the effort to
make the qiladdrt hereditary, to which end the descendants of Sarup Singh were
probably petitioning the court of the Mughal ruler, Farrukhsiyar, who had newly
ascended the throne in January 1713. This was not a wholly unprecedented move
in the early eighteenth century, especially in newly conquered territories like the
Karnatak. But if, as one suspects, Sarup Singh and the other southern Bundelas
were associated with Zulfiqar Khan Nusrat Jang, their claims would hardly have
been given a hearing in Delhi, where a bloody purge by the newly ascendant alliance

of Turanis and Indian Muslims had eliminated both Zulfiqar Khan and many of
his followers. A second question was that of the distribution of revenue resources,
and whether Sarup Singh had earlier infringed on the khiilisa, as is implied at one
point by the French letter-writer. Since Saadatullah Khans burgeoning powers
derived from his own control over the khalisa lands, this would have been viewed
as a threat to his own state-building ambitions.
In a later letter (mid-July 1714), Du Livier spells out developments in the Senjii
area somewhat further. He writes that after Sarup Singhs death, it was widely
believed that his oldest son would obtain this Government, but we are assured
more recently that it has been given to a Mogol who is on his way to take possession
of it, and continues, God grant that this unforeseen change does not cause you
any trouble in our neighbourhood, which one would have to fear if it is true, as we
were told, that the younger son of the deceased, who arrived in this fortress six
weeks ago where he was well received by the people, raises troops.&dquo;
In late August 1714 we already learn of Saadatullah Khans army in the Senjii
region, from which a small force was detached to deal with unpaid debts between
him and a set of Tamil Muslim merchants resident at Porto Novo. Dutch correspondence of the period mention the seemingly routine southward journey (in
August) of Lala Todar Mal, whose purpose was apparently to collect the annual
peshkash from Tanjavur and Madurai. The Dutch Companys wakil, Tiruvengada
Ayyan, who was in the Nababs army with him, also kept the Dutch Council at
Nagapattinam posted about local developments, as well as differences between
Todar Mal and the faujdar of Cidambaram, Inayat Khan.20 By late September,
the English Company at Madras was reporting a letter from the Deputy Governor
of Fort St. David, advising of the Nabobs march near Chingie, which augured
for an imminent confrontation with those in the fort.21

18
69 (1710-1716), letter
2
AN, Archives du Ministère des Colonies. Correspondance Générale, C
from M. Du Livier, 14 février 1714, fols. 76v-77r.
19
69 (1710-1716), letter
2
AN, Archives du Ministère des Colonies, Correspondance Générale, C
from M. Du Livier and Councillors at Pondichery, 18 juillet 1714, fol. 89v.
20
ARA, OB, VOC. 1849, letter from Daniel Bernard and Council at Nagapattinam to Batavia, 6
September 1714, fols. 366r-75r.
21
Records of Fort St. George, Diary and Consultation Book of 1714, Madras, 1929, p. 120.

77

The French at Pondicherry had a closer interest in the affairs of Senji in particular,
since they were notionally in an area that was subordinate to the fort. Du Livier
could thus report by 8 October. giving the conflict a very particular religious
dimension:
The Moors make war on the Gentiles at 15 leagues from us; the Nabab or Viceroy
who resides three days from here, having reached an accomodation with the
Marates who had advanced to within six days march with a body of 12,000
horsemen and as many pions, sent out a detachment eight days ago to go and
make himself master of Gingy in execution of the Mogols orders. He himself
joined it a short time later, with his army, and is at present camped in the environs
of this fortress where he has orders to remain after he has made himself its
master. The prince who governs it, younger son of Soroubsinde, who died eight
months ago, has the reputation of being extremely brave, [and] takes all sorts of
precautions to conserve his post, and has brought in a quantity of provisions,
and it is the general opinion that the Viceroy cannot take it save through famine

The reputation of Senji as a fort that was militarily speaking impregnable and
could only be taken by treachery or starvation had thus preserved itself intact,
despite the fact that it had fallen at least twice in the seventeenth century. We may
recall the Mughal chroniclers description on the occasion of its capture in 1698:
the Islamic heroes, with Gods help, had captured Jinji which was situated on a
high hill and enjoyed the greatest fame and pre-eminence among the forts and
strong places of Karnatak in respect of height and abundance of materials of war
and defence....11 Du Livier thus continues with a mention of an incipient refugee
problem, and the fact that
thousand men, women and children have entered the town [of Pondicherry]
and the lands that depend on it, [and] it would be one of the greatest misfortunes
that could happen to this colony if the government were to fall into the hands of
the Moors, who would come everyday to insult us and the inhabitants, right to
the doors and even inside the town, with this garrison being in too feeble a state
for us to oppose them ....z3
some

A long siege was anticipated at any rate, unless the matter were first settled
through negotiations. For how could the Arcot army take Senji by force? We may
look, for example, to the detailed description of Senjis locational advantages,
from the papers of a later campaign, that of the English East India Company in
22

Saqi Mustad Khan, Maa

ir-i i,
s
ŕ trans. Jadunath Sarkar, Calcutta, 1947; Persian text
i
ğ
Alam
ed. Agha Ahmad Ali, Bibliotheca Indica, Calcutta, 1871, English trans., p. 238; Persian text, pp.
390-91.
23
69 (1710-1716), letter
2
AN, Archives du Ministère des Colonies, Correspondance Générale, C
from M. Du Livier at Pondichery, 8 octobre 1714, fol. 108v.

78

1752. Thus, Colonel Stringer Lawrence wrote of how Senji was surrounded with
and the roads or more properly passes, leading to it, begin between
those mountains. at about ten miles distance. An army within those passes may
easily be blocked up, unless they can afford to secure themselves, and keep their
communication open with the country .2 But, in fact, in 1714, the affair suddenly
took an unexpected turn; indeed, it had already been resolved by the time Du
Liviers letter was written. Thus, we read the following summary description in a
consultation of the President and Governor, Edward Harrison, and his Council at
Madras, dated Saturday 9 October 1714:

mountains,

Our Nabob had drawn all his forces Round Chingie and Summond Seroop Sings
Son to surrender upon pretence of an order from Court to take possession of
that place, which he refusd to do and making a desperate Salley with about 300
Rasboots was very near killing the Nabob having cut the harness of his Elephant
with his own hands, but timely Succours coming in to the Nabobs rescue, Teja
Sing Seroop Sings son with Mohabut Cawn and several others of the principal
men belonging to Chingie were overpowerd and cut off so that it is beleivd
Chingie will surrender in a few days.25

Thus, Tej Singh Bundela preferred the desperate Salley

and

a mere

price

to the prolonged wait,

Senji from Bundelkhand, paid the
his qiladdri, and perhaps even his

matter of months after his arrival in

of his life for what he

imagined

to

be

watan.

But the archives of the French Company have further treasures in store for us. A
French document, bound up in the archives with other letters dated late 1714 and
early 1715, provides as eloquent a testimony as any on the combat of October
1714, and is altogether surprising in the details it often recounts. We shall follow
it very closely, since it is an essential prologue to what follows. The French text,.
undated and anonymously authored, runs as follows:

It was about five months ago that the Nabab, or Governor of the Province of
Carnate who has his residence at Arcate which is five days journey from here,
. received an order from the Mogol Emperor to send his compliments to the Raja
of Gingy on the death of his father and to order him to return to the Court, where
he would have the command of 12 thousand horse, similar to that which his
older brother had had before the death of their father, Souracbinge. The Raja
received the compliment gladly, but did not wish in the least to discuss the
question of handing over Gingy and the nine fortresses that depend on it. The
24

Colonel Lawrences Narrative of the War

on

the Coast of Coromandel, in Richard Owen

Cambridge, comp.,
An Account of the War in India between the English and French on the Coast of
Coromandel, from the Year 1750 to the Year 1760 (...), London, 1761, pp. 32-33. A detailed study
of Senji and its fortifications is in preparation, under the direction of Jean Deloche at the Ecole
Française dExtrême-Orient, Pondicherry. For a brief discussion, see George Michell, Courtly
Architecture at Gingee under the Nayakas, South Asian Studies, No. 7, 1993, pp. 143-60.
25
Diary and Consultation Book of 1714, p. 126.

79

Nabab advised the Emperor of the refusal of the Prince, and he sent him a new
order to try and bring the Raja around sweetly, and that if he could not succeed
in that manner, that he had to lay siege to Gingy, and not lift it until he had made
himself its master. The Nabab, who was afraid to engage in a war against a
Prince, whose valour and power promised a great deal of danger, and being
afraid of wearying himself given the almost inaccessible situation of Gingy,
which is surrounded by nine fortresses, and by mountains and impassable
marshes, these reasons I say obliged him to send the Raja a second and then a
third ambassador, who had no greater success than the first. He thus found himself
obliged to resort to his forces, in order to execute the orders of the Emperor, and
this is why on the 6th of the moon of September, he marched out his army that
was made up to 20 thousand foot-soldiers, and of six to seven thousand horsemen,
and sent them to camp two leagues beyond a river near Gingy, where he went
and joined them two days later.
No sooner had the Raja learnt of the approach of the Nabab with his army,
than he brought together his garrison, and ordered six hundred horsemen to
prepare themselves, and thereafter having taken rest for an hour from the fatigues
of hunting, in which he was constantly occupied, he got on his horse, took betel
according to the custom, and distributed it to the six hundred horsemen who
were to follow him in the sortie, and he said to them that he knew that he was
going to perish, and that few amongst them would survive the combat, which is
what actually came to pass, for on finding the river flooded, only the Raja and a
hundred and twenty-two horsemen were able to pass it, amongst whom there
were several officers, and seigneurs, who absolutely did not wish to abandon
him. This small body of cavalry was greatly fatigued in the crossing of this
river, and even more so while crossing a marsh which gave them a great deal of
trouble to traverse. Thus, after two-and-a-half hours of march, they arrived at
the camp of the Nabab, which they found in disorder, in the process of putting
up the tents. They first surprised the artillery which was looked after by
Portuguese, and other European refugees: The Raja forbade his men to attack
them, and only threatened them that if they did not get out of his way he would
give them blows with papooshes or slippers, the most shameful punishment in
the land. The Prince could well have made himself master of the batteries, and
used them against the Nabab, but as he only wished to attack this Seigneur in
person, and as he did not have enough men to guard the guns, he divided his
horsemen in two groups, and making a game of reviewing his troops he ran
through the whole camp, crying out in a loud voice, Where is the Nabab, until a
certain Seigneur Monsopdar presented himself before him, and said I am the
Nabab. The Raja engaged him in combat, and having beaten him soundly, killed
him, and. passing on he cried out always the same thing, Where is the Nabab.
Another Seigneur having once more said to him that he was the Nabab, the Raja
replied toihim that he was too old, and having mercy on his weakness, he went
on his way, and arrived at last in the quarter of the Nabab who was mounted on
an elephant. He gave him a blow with his lance which was parried by those who
were around him. The Nabab also fired several arrows which did not hit their

80

mark at all. Meanwhile the combat became heated, and the Raja, mounting his
horse on the head of the Nawabs elephant tried to pierce him through with his
lance, which being too short his efforts were useless, which then obliged him to
order the Courat, or driver, to make the elephant he was riding sit down. This
servant having refused, he was killed immediately, and the one who took his
place met the same fate. He launched a blow at a third, but since his am was
tired, the lance flew out of his hand, and only brought down the turban of this
man, which the Nabab received in his hands, and put back on his head immediately. Meanwhile, a pion sliced the hocks of the horse of the Nabab, I mean Raja,
who finding himself unseated took his sword in his hand, and jumping on the
stirrup of the elephant, did his best to upturn the Nabab, but with the greater part
of his men having been killed, and finding himself surrounded by his enemies,
he received an arrow in his stomach, and another in his front, and being greatly
fatigued after this last wound and having lost a great deal of blood from the
first, he fell dead. Several Seigneurs, and among them Mouflecan (Governor of
Valdaour, a fortress dependent on Gingy, situated four leagues from here) who
had accompanied him in this daring expedition met the same fate, and the loss
on the Nababs side has been quite considerable for he has had almost a thousand
men out*of action. His supporters claim that he killed the Raja with one of his
arrows, and he has received a light wound on this occasion, for which he has
been treated in secret, because according to the maxim of the Moors, to receive
a wound is a matter for reproach amongst them, even if among all the other
nations it might be considered a mark of honour, and the reason that they give
for it is that if he who is wounded had been adroit, he would have been able to
avoid the blow.
The next day, the uncle of the Raja sent to the Nabab to demand the body of
his nephew, and of those who had been killed in the action of the preceding day.
The Nabab had the body of the Raja placed in a palankeen and sent it back to
Gingy, where-the wife of this unhappy Prince, aged sixteen to seventeen years,
and possessed of a great beauty, ordered with an admirable presence of mind all
that was necessary for the funeral of her husband. A pyre was made of various
combustible materials, for it is the custom to burn the bodies of these idolators,
and on it the cadaver of the Raja was laid out. The Princess, dressed in her finest
clothes, was taken there to the sound of instruments, and when she arrived there
she distributed al l that she had that was the most precious, and having embraced
her husband, ordered with an incredible serenity that the pyre be lit, which was
at once done, and she too was burnt alive with him.
Three days later, the uncle of the Raja capitulated and the Nabab gave him
permission to retire wherever he wished, and presented him with thirty horses,
which he allowed him to load with whatever he thought appropriate, with an
escort of six hundred horsemen to place his treasures in safety. 26
26

AN, Archives du

138-40.

Ministère des Colonies,

C
6
9 (1710-1716),
Correspondance Générale, 2

fols.

/81

We now have the basic elements in place of not only the historical narrative
(which is in fact more or less complete at this stage) but of the legend. The event,
though a trivial one, left a mark on contemporaries. Senj i was, after all, an impregnable fort (or at least hard to take by siege). Tej Singh could have remained within
for months on end, and yet he chose to sally out, telling his troops that he knew
that he was going to perish, and that few amongst them would survive the combat.
The epic crossing of the river is mentioned, and the French text insists that Tej

Singh wished at all costs to engage in single combat with~Saadatullah Khan. The
quixotic aspect of his comportment is stressed throughout, to the extent of his
threatening the mercenary gunners with his slippers, but at the same time refusing
to use their guns against the Nawabs troops. Yet, this is not the parodic chivalry
of the Knight of La Mancha. Tej Singh is deadly serious, and carries his intent
through to its very end, even though his companions (including Mahabat Khan of
Valudavur) have to be killed to this purpose. The ritual self-immolation of his
young wife closes this tale of striking and anachronistic violence, a violence that
is above all remarkable in a century marked elsewhere in South Asia by negotiation.
Saadatullah Khan could now enter the fortress of Senji, and place upon its
Pondicherry gate a chronogram composed by Nawab Ghulam Ali Khan (1051/
1642-1128/1716), his older brother. The chronogram ran:
_Khan-i zfshdn Sa dat Allah Kh3n
Lulf haidar buwad bar-o-afzun
Fath kard u hisar-i Chinji rd
Az iniyat-i qadir-i b7chiin
Guft trikh-i- Ghulim An
Kard isldm kufr r5 birn. 27
z

The words may be

follows:

broadly translated into English as

The dignified lord Saadat Allah Khan,

upon whom the grace of Haidar increase manifold,
gained victory on that fortress of Chinji
by the favour of the Incomparable Almighty.
Ghulam &dquo;Ali utters its year thus:
Islam expels Infidelity.

He would also go on to build a congregational mosque and an idgdh there by the

end of the decade. These would help him state in bald terms his claims to regional
supremacy, as we see from the chronogram-inscription of the mosque:
27

The text is reproduced in Muhammad Yousuf Kokan, Arabic and Persian in Carnatic, 17101960, Madras, 1974, p. 36; a photograph of the inscription taken on a visit to Senji in March 1995
is in my possession. The contents are summarised briefly in Ziyaud-Din A. Desai,
A Topographical
List of Arabic, Persian and Urdu Inscriptions of South India, New Delhi, 1989, No. 453. My thanks
to Muzaffar Alam for revising my translation of the inscription.

82

On building the mosque at Nusratgadh,

the successful Said became sovereign.
Intelligence gave word of the year of its
A second Masjid i Kaaba is this!

perfection:

There is no mistaking the tone of the second line: Said-i k3mrfn fhrmfnrawa
shud. The tone is hardly more modest in the inscription of the idgh, though
here-as in the mosques inscription-no mention is made of the victory over
he The victory at Senj finds equal mention in Saadatullah Khans biographical
chronicle, the 5a /~A~/Ma, where the author Jaswant Rai is at pains to point out
how his patron had always had good relations with the Bundelas, and given them
a number of crucial commands in his area of jurisdiction. Indeed, he notes, on
account of his former close relations with Sarup Singh, Saadatullah Khan was
reluctant to act against his son, who was headstrong and impetuous. Yet his hand
was forced, and the battle had to be fought, partly because of the innate nature of
the Bundelas. Jaswant Rai glosses here over the fact that at least some of Tej
Singhs ancestors had served the Mughals loyally, and arriving at the last
(chronologically, the first) of the line, he waxes eloquent about how Bir Singh
Deo had been responsible for the murder of Abu1 Fazl, whose virtues are praised
in fulsome terms. Jaswant Rai takes care, however, to give credit to Tej Singh for
his bravery, and notes that the battle was a close-fought one. Saadatullah Khan
himself, he notes, was impressed by the young Bundela warriors courage and
ferocity. In a sense, the episode marks an important point of inflection in the
chronicle, for once the Bundela challenge was dispersed, the Arcot diwan was
free to engage in his own projects (with the omnipresent aid of Lala Dakhni Rai,
of course). It was after 1715, that Saadat Pattan was founded, and the diwn now
took up residence for some years at Senji, before returning to Arcot in the late
1710s.
A First

Re-reading:

The Tamil Text

How did local historians look upon these events? About a century after Tej Singhs
death, the surveyors and employees of Colonel Colin Mackenzie in the Survey of
India went about collecting materials in the vernacular languages of the region
towards a history of southern India.29 One of the Tamil regional chronicles written
28
For the texts, both composed by Muhammad Amin-i Bani lsrail, see Kokan, Arabic and Persian,
pp. 16-17; the first appears in summary in Desai, Topographical List, No. 454. In this context, a
related manuscript of interest is the Majmaal-insh
of Muhammad Amin-i Bani Israil, OIOC,
ā
Persian mss., I.O. 2,894, ff. 177 (another copy of which is classified Or. 1,599, ff. 414); this is a
collection of epistolography, whose compiler was in the service of first Lala (or Rai) Dakhni Ram, and
later his son Rai Budh Cand.
29
For a recent, detailed, discussion of Mackenzies project, see Nicholas B. Dirks, Colonial Histories
and Native Informants: Biography of an Archive, in Carol A. Breckenridge and Peter van der Veer,
eds, Orientalism and the Postcolonial Predicament: Perspectives on South Asia, Delhi, 1994, pp.
279-313.

83

for them in around 1800, albeit probably based on a pre-existent text, was by a
certain Narayanan Pillai, a talented and articulate member of a scribal family from
Senj i.3 His portrayal of Te_j Singh is, on balance, somewhat less than sympathetic;
at the same time, we may note that his account of Saadatullah Khans rule over
the Kamatak ends with the phrase having ruled with justice, he passed away
(nitiyuy r4jiyam panni viluntu pon3r), almost exactly the same formula used to
sum up the rule of the mythical Nayaka founder-ruler of Senji, Tuppakki
Krishnappa, for example.&dquo; Senji Narayanan makes it amply clear that Tej Singh
was at fault in the whole imbroglio described earlier, in a manner curiously reminiscent of the account of Jaswant Rai. Indeed, the whole process is set out, retrospectively, and with an astonishing level of detail, in Senji Narayanans Karnataka
Rajakkal Cavistdra Carittiram; in point of fact, he gives us an all-too-complete
version of the origins of the conflict from his viewpoint. According to his version,
in 1700-01 (Fasli Year 1110), Sarup Singh, introduced into the chronicle as a
relation of the king of Bondalikandu, while at the imperial court (huzur) was
received personally by Alamgir Badshah, who presented him 2,000 maunds of
gold, gave him ajagirdariworth 12 lakhs of rupees, and the qiladdrf of Senj 1.
The sanad by which this grant was made was accompanied with a parwna to the
Nawab Amir al-Umara (Zulfiqar Khan), asking him to take back the qil ad-ari and
faujdari from the incumbents at the time, reportedly a certain Qizilbash Khan and
Kakar (or perhaps Kokaltash) Khan respectively. Sarup Singh was accompanied
to Senji by a newsletter-writer (waqianaw7s), Paya Ramakrishna, and various
other officers, as well as five thousand Mughal troops for the garrison, and three
hundred horse. Further, he is said to have received injgir Senji and its surroundings, namely Haveli Senji, Valudavur, Tindivanam, Tiruvamattur, Tirukkoyilur,

Vettavanam,

etc.

So long as Aurangzeb was alive, the Karnataka chronicle continues, all was in
order. However, his successors were unable to maintain the same level of control
and under Farrukhsiyar (Parik Ca), Sarup Singh is reported to have refused to
pay his land revenue dues and tribute for 10 years. Besides, he is said to have
employed violence on the cultivators, and ignored Saadatullah Khans orders; his
revenue arrears soon mounted to 70 lakhs, and when he sent an emissary to the
Mughal court to respond to Saadatullah Khans complaints against him, the
Padshah is alleged to have been enraged by the claims of his wakil. Taking
advantage of the situation, Senji Narayanan claims, Saadatullah Khan staked a
claim for the qil adtiri himself, and sent his own wawl, Dipu Das, with presents to
the court (borrowed in turn from the Bukkanji family of bankers!). Farrukhsiyar is
said to have acceded to this claim, made him a grant, and revoked that to Sarup
Singh, who on learning the news fell dangerously ill, apparently from chagrin at
his imminent humiliation.
30
In this context, also see the discussion in Sanjay Subrahmanyam, Reflections on State-Making
and History-Making in South India, 1500-1800, Journal of the Economrc und Social History of the
Orient, Vol. 41(3), 1998 (Special Issue), pp. 382-416.
"
taka kkal
ā
Karn
ra Carittiram. p. 57.
ā
&R
j
amacr; Cavist

84

It is at this stage that Senji Narayanan brings Sarup Singhs son into the narrative,
stating that news of his fathers illness reached him in Bundelkhand. He is stated to
have gathered together 50 horsemen (and his wife), and made his way to the Deccan,
stopping though at the fort ofPittanur (Bednur?) in the Karnatak to aid its ruler, an
old friend of Sarup Singh, in his war against certain Maratha sarddrs. Once the

Marathas had been defeated, the king, in gratitude, offered Sarup Singhs son, Tej
Singh, a lakh of rupees, jewels, and a horse that had cost him Rs. 12,000. The
horse had a peculiar quality though: it would allow no one to ride it. When Tej
Singh approached it in the stable, however, the horse lowered its head; he passes
the bit into its mouth, and mounted it. Thus, triumphant, with a new horse, money
and jewels, Tej Singh is shown arriving at Senji, only to be told at the gate of the
fortress that his father had just died. Tej Singh is now reported to have taken over
the qil adiri without further ado, despite the warnings from the wise figure of
the wakil Paya Ramakrishna (with whom Narayanan obviously identified). To
these warnings, Tej Singh is supposed to have said that his father had received
Senji from Alamgir Padshah, and that no other authorisation was needed for him
to continue. Saadatullah Khan, for his part, is portrayed as the very soul of tact,
who for six months does nothing save send a letter of condolence to Tej Singh.
Finally, letters (parwdnas) arrive from Delhi, granting Saadatullah the qil adari
of Senji, and are accompanied by troops sent by Daud Khan.
The negotiations now begin. Saadatullah Khan sends for the sarrishtadar,
Lala Todar Mal, and instructs him to carry the parwdnas to Tej Singh, cautioning
him that the latter is hot-headed. Lala Todar Mal is to take charge of Senji fort,
and send Tej Singh to Arcot. Todar Mal travels with 50 horsemen, and camps
outside Senji fort, near the sacred tank of Venkatarayaswami, dug by Muttiyal
Nayakkar (note that Senji Narayanan is particularly adept at providing local colour
of this type). He deals first with Paya Ramakrishna, and sends the parwinas to Tej
Singh, who refuses to recognise them. On being counselled to speak with Todar
Mal, he does come out of the fortress though, accompanied by a band of horsemen,
and goes as far as Melacceri, then turns back by the riverside (the river Varahanadi,
or Sankarabharani) near the Sankarankoyil, and comes back by the route that leads
to the fort, thus approaching Todar Mals tent in an unexpected manner. Todar
Mal, out of courtesy meets him on the road itself, but when Tej Singh refuses to
dismount, naturally treats it as a thinly veiled insult. Todar Mal returns to his tent;
the negotiations thus do not take place. The next day, Todar Mal, now mounted on
his horse, arrives at the fort and Tej Singhs kacahrr. He courteously presents the
parwana, ignoring Tej Singhs rustic maimers; but Tej Singh stands up, and with
his eyes red with rage (in a classical image), declares that he will not hand the fort
over. If Todar Mal insists, he says, heads will roll; and he flings the parwanas
back at the envoy. In the face of this further insult, Todar Mal remains calm, and
even tells the garrison troops (who accompany him on his return) not to act hastily.
Thus far, the Arcot party is all reason. Indeed, Todar Mal now writes a letter to
Saadatullah Khan, stating that Tej Singh has 350 horse, and 500 foot-soldiers,
and that it may be necessary to spill blood to take the fort.

85

In the next episode of the Karnataka Rajakkal Cavist5ra Carittiram, after a

month has elapsed, Saadatullah Khan himself sets out from Arcot, accompanied
by 5,000 horse and 10,000 foot-soldiers, who are joined by auxiliary forces, led
by the cream of the local palaiyakkarars, and making up a total of 30,000 men.
The two main auxiliaries are shown to be Somu Raja of Kalahasti, and Bangaru
Yacama Nayaka of the Velugoti clan, presented here as the Raja of Venkatagiri.
Their first step is the fort of Ami, where the qilIadir, Venkatarayar, pays a tribute
and his revenue dues, and then Cetpet, where too the Nawab receives his dues
from Salabat Khan, the local qil adr. At this stage he is joined by Todar Mal,
who all this while has apparently remained camped near Senji.
In Senji fort, the wqianawis Paya Ramakrishna once more remonstrates with
Tej Singh, telling him that his attitude is neither correct (from a legal point of
view) nor reasonable militarily. The latter merely ignores this, but on the approach
of the Arcot army as far as Kadali, asks for the qil adar of Valudavur to send his
son, Mahabat Khan, who arrives with 50 horse, and two of his chosen companions.
On his arrival, Tej Singh mounts his famous horse from Pittanur and prepares to
depart; but his friends in the fort tell him that the omens are not auspicious, and
that the time is, astrologically speaking, not favourable. Tej Singh pays them no
heed (as he has earlier paid no heed to so many other wiser heads), and instead
sends a message to his wife, telling her to guard her chastity if he did not return,
since his opponents are, after all, Muslims (the remarks significance is obvious).
He then tells his horsemen that they are not obliged to follow him, and sets off;
only 200 men follow him, among them Mahabat Khan.
Ignoring the Arcot soldiers whom he meets en route, Tej Singh makes straight
for the river, which is temporarily in spate (it is the month of Aippaci, and the
north-east monsoon has apparently commenced slightly early). Rather than wait
some hours, when the flood would have abated, he plunges in with his horse, the
12,000-rupee gift of the ruler of Pittanur. Only 100 horsemen follow him; the
others prudently remain behind. Once on the other bank, Tej Singh makes straight
for the Arcot army, where the Nawab, being apprised of his approach, asks one
Daulat Khan to confront him. The Nawabs intention is to capture Tej Singh alive,
not to harm him, and he watches from a distance, seated in a howdah on the back
of his elephant. There is a brief battle with Daulat Khan, in which many of Tej
Singhs horsemen are killed or take flight. Finally, only Mahabat Khan and his
two companions are left, besides Tej Singh. Then they too are killed in a sword-

fight.
Left alone, Tej Singh attacks the elephant of Daulat Khan, who instructs his
soldiers to take the Bundela alive. But Tej Singhs horse places his front hooves
on the elephants flank, and Tej Singh kills Daulat Khan with his lance. Even now,
the Nawab Saadatullah Khan shows patience, and cries out to his soldiers to take
Tej Singh alive. The latter turns his horse towards the Nawabs elephant, but is at
once surrounded by soldiers, who slash away at the horses hocks and fell him.
Again, the Nawab cries out not to kill Tej Singh but to capture him. At this stage,
Bangaru Yacama Nayaka arrives on the scene on his elephant and adds his voice

86

that of the Nawab.

However, when one of his subordinates (a zamindar) seizes

the
latter pierces him through with his lance. At last, Bangaru
Tej Singh physically,
loses
and
orders one of his musketeers to fire. Shot through the
Nayaka
patience,
chest at close quarters, Tej Singh dies.
Tej Singhs body is now carried back to Senji, and Saadatullah Khan enters it
(on 2 Aippaci, of 1124 Fasli, according to Senji Narayanan), where he seizes hold
of the treasury, and has Tej Singhs erstwhile subordinates swear loyalty to him.
He then sends his condolences to Tej Singhs widow and relatives who are in the
fort. The widow rather prudently tells the Nawab that he is like her father, and
asks his permission to burn herself on Tej Singhs funeral pyre. He tries to dissuade
her, but finally accedes to the request, and even goes so far as to give her all she
needs for the ceremonies, and to meet the expenses. The next morning, within the
Senji fort, by the tank of Ramu Cetti (cettikulam), Tej Singhs wife is burnt with
him, while his nephew (the son of his older brother, Anup Singh, who has not
featured earlier in the text), performs the necessary ceremonies.
Thus, from the beginning to the very end of the episode, Saadatullah Khans
conduct is shown by Senji Narayanan in a sympathetic light. As a postscript, it is
mentioned that he even allows Tej Singhs men to leave Senji fort, and gives them
revenue rights to a village near the spot where he was killed. These men, writes
Senji Narayanan, raised a temple to honour Tej Singh, and also constructed tombs
for Mahabat Khan, his two (Muslim) boon companions, and for Tej Singhs horse.
A garden, called Brindavanam, is established by cettikulam, and trees planted
therein. As for the Bundelas, be they the relatives or the followers of Tej Singh,
they return to their place of origin. Saadatullah Khans righteous rule is established
over Senji and its environs, and he goes on to build his mosque and other structures
there.&dquo;
The above extensive paraphrase of the relevant sections of Senji Narayanans
narrative makes it clear that its real hero is not the hot-headed Tej Singh, but
Saadatullah Khan, wise, tolerant, even willing in the heat of battle to cry out to
his troops to seize Tej Singh alive, and not to harm him. Then there is Paya
Ramakrishna, whose sage advice is ignored, as Tej Singh charges to his doom. As
for Tej Singh himself, he appears as a figure who is mildly tragic, but very largely
ridiculous and unreasonable. Typical is Senji Narayanans hard-headed commentary
concerning the crossing ofthe Varahanadi: while the rainwaters had made it difficult
to pass, he writes, had Tej Singh only waited a few hours, he could have crossed
with ease, and with his force intact. Although we know relatively little of who
Narayanan Pillai was, there is enough evidence to suggest that as a member of a
long-serving scribal lineage from Senji, he identified with the forces of order,
and with words such as those which he puts in the mouth of Paya Ramakrishna.
The Padshahs parwna must be respected; revenue dues must be paid. Gratuitous
to

32

The paragraphs above summarise in broad outline the text in ibid, chapters 6-8, pp. 42-57. An
earlier, fairly literal, translation into French from Tamil is by Gnanoll Diagou, Histoire détaillée des
Rois du Carnatic, par Narayanampoullé. Pondicherry, 1939, pp. 143-55.

87

like Todar Mal pains him. It is clear that Tej Singh represents
disorder in this view of the world. The most curious aspect of the narrative. in the
light of all this, is the fact that such attention is devoted to Tej Singh in the first
place. After all, Sarup Singh and Tej Singh together are accorded more space than
all of the Senji Nayakas put together! This can only be explained by the fact that
Senji Narayanan was aware that an elaborate, alternative set of narratives existed
glorifying Tej Singhs deeds, to which he had to counterpose his own version,
which deflated Tej Singhs claims to glory.

discourtesy to men

Towards the

Folk-Epic

The text which we have been describing, Senji Narayanans Karnataka Rjkka!
Cavistara Carittiram, was commissioned and written in the early nineteenth century,
we have noted above, as part of the programme put in place by Mackenzie in
southern India. Mackenzie, and others who worked with him like William Macleod
(who, in fact, directly commissioned this text), brought together a large corpus of
materials in Tamil, Telugu, Marathi, Kannada and Sanskrit, only a fraction of
which has been analysed to date. Amongst these, there are at least three texts (or at
least fragments) in Marathi of relevance to us, one called the Jayasitigarja [sic]
Kaiphiyata, another the Candiki Kaiphiyata (Account of Senji), and a third
fragment relating to Tej Singhs death at Senji. They provide significant variants
to Senj Narayanans narrative, but also differ from one another. The first of these,
the relatively brief Jaj,asii7garLija Kaiphiyata, need not detain us here, as its
principal elements are quite similar to those of other versions.33 On the other hand,
a second Marathi text, the Candiki Kaiphiyata offers a radically different reading
from that in any other version.3 We may note that here the foundation of Senji
itself (called Candi in this version) is attributed to a time 360 years before the
writing of the text, when Krishnadevaraya ruled over the earth from his centre at
Vijayanagara or Anegondi. The story of Tej Singh is now tied up explicitly to the
politics of the Nizami state in Haidarabad, and with the Panna state of Chatrasal.
The heroic character of Tej Singh has become even clearer, as have the villainous
machinations of his opponents. The text notes that at the time that Daud Khan
ruled at Senji, the Delhi Padshah had a subordinate called Chatrasal with whom
he marched to war against the Sultan of Rum (i.e., the Ottoman Sultan). A
33
OIOC, Mackenzie Collection, General (Camatic), Vol. IX, No. 13b. pp. 132-35, translated from
Marathi

by Suba Row (1803). The Marathi (Modi) original of this text is in the Government Oriental
Manuscripts Library, Madras. For a general consideration of texts of this class, see Raghunath Vinayak
Herwadkar, Mar
ı Bakhar, Pune, 1975.
th
ā
34
OIOC. Mackenzie Collection: General (Camatic), Vol. IX,No. 13a, pp. 121-29, Kyfyat of Gingee
from Colonel A. Read translated from the Marattas. Since Read died in May 1804, we may suppose
that the translation of this fragment was made before that. For a contemporary translation of the earlier
sections conceming the Nayakas, running though to 1672, see OIOC. Mss. Eur., Mackenzie Translations
Class II, No. 7. 12 pp. Kyfeyeat of Chenjee procured by Aupah Dechatool, one of the head inhabitants
thereof The text from which these translations
35 pp.

were

made appears

to

be OIOC, Mss.

Marathi, C. 15,

88

misunderstanding took place between the two when Chatrasal marched ahead without
emperors orders, claiming that he had heard the naq-ara (ceremonial
kettle-drums). The Padshah reprimanded him, and a fight ensued in which 150,000

the Delhi

Delhi soldiers were killed; the Padshah now sued for peace, and made Chatrasal
commander of his troops and chief general. The other courtiers being jealous,
they asked the Padshah to send Chatrasal alone against the Padshah of Rum; but in
four months, he conquered Rum, settled that country with his own men, and returned
to Delhi.
Now Chatrasals son is Sarup Singh, who is very able, and on his fathers death
receives a major command from the Delhi Padshah. The waz7rs and courtiers
naturally hate him, and intrigue against him; they even try to assassinate him, but
all to no avail. Meanwhile, the Padshah hears that the Senji country is in revolt,
and asks Sarup Singh to go there. He refuses, is dismissed from the court, and
goes back to his home. Some time later, the Padshahs elephant runs amok, and is
causing devastation everywhere when Sarup Singh encounters it in a street and
kills it with a sword. The Padshah, mightily pleased, gives him Senji as a jagir
(comprising 12 parganas). He now sets out southward, passing through Haidarabad.
Such is his prestige that Nizam ul-mulk Asaf Jah wishes to have a look at him, but
matters of etiquette complicate affairs. Finally, Asaf Jah rides out to see Sarup
Singh, who is riding a great horse, holding the jayanti (flag or banner) in his right
hand, a sword in his left, and at the head of 30,000 horse. Asaf Jah is vexed that
Sarup Singh greets him with his left hand, and even more so that he refuses a
khil at that is offered him, on the grounds that he already has one from the Padshah.
All of this augurs badly for his familys future relations with Haidarabad.
Once at Senji, Sarup Singh presents his parwana to Daud Khan, who with
reluctance gives him possession of the fort and its lands. Sarup Singh settles his
own men there, gives two milch cows to each, and also makes land grants to
Brahmins. His wife remains with him for five years, and bears a child Desingh.
When Desingh is two years old, she returns with him to Delhi (her native place),
while Sarup Singh continues to rule Senj i for 32 years. Finally, at the ripe age of
80 he falls ill, and foreseeing the end, writes to Desingh, asking him to return.
Desingh sets out from Delhi with 30 horse, and his wife and family. Rather than
pass through Haidarabad, he takes the route through a place called Devunur (which
is unlikely to be Devanur, just east of Senji).
He finds Devunur in a crisis; Asaf Jah has besieged the fort, which is ruled over
by a Rani, who when she hears of Desinghs arrival, at once seeks his help. Desingh
cannot refuse this appeal from a woman (who stresses moreover that she is helpless),
especially when she mentions the reputation of his father and grandfather. He thus
counsels her to sally out of the fort and attack the besiegers; taking advantage of
the diversion, Desingh then surprises the besiegers and kills their commander,
forcing the others to flee. He plunders their camp, and brings back their possessions,
to the great contentment of the Rani. The Rani is filled with gratitude, and having
nothing else to offer Desingh, mentions a horse she has in her stables, which is
fine and spirited. The problem is that no one can ride him, or even take him out to

89

Desingh inspects the horse, and directly mounts him, to the astonishment of
all spectators. But he refuses to accept the horse as a gift (since he cannot receive
a gift from a mere woman), and insists on paying for it by means of a bond. He
then rides off to Senj i.
Meanwhile Sarup Singh dies, leaving the fort temporarily in charge of his brother
Anup Singh. The very next day Desingh arrives, and performs the funeral
ceremonies before taking charge of the fort in the month of Cittirai (April-May).
In Haidarabad, meanwhile, intrigues are afoot. Nasir Jang, son of Asaf Jah, writes
to Saadatullah Khan, instructing him to find a pretext to put Desingh to death,
and having taken his parwana, thus seize hold of the fort. But Desingh refuses to
fall into the trap that has been laid for him, by stating that there is no need for him
to present the parwdna for inspection. Family troubles break out meanwhile, as
Desinghs brother-in-law Arjun Singh feels slighted at being granted less land
than some other dependents of Desingh. He thus offers his services to Saadatullah
Khan, who is happy to offer him a salary of 1,000 pagodas. The Nawab now gets
together his army, with the auxiliary troops of Bomma Razu, Venkatappa Nayaka,
and the /og7h~/ of Arni, Venkatarao. They approach Senji, and the troops begin
to plunder the outskirts. At this Arjun Singh objects, stating that he had thought
the expedition was directed at Tanjavur. He cannot fight his brother-in-law, he
states, and, taking his wages, departs to rejoin Desingh and warn him of the
imminent attack.
Meanwhile, villagers from the outlying villages also arrive at the Senji court, to
inform Desingh of their plight. It is the time of Dasahra (presumably it is, hence,
the earlier month of Purattaci and not Aippaci), and Desingh is performing the
usual ceremonies with his arms (ayudha puja) on the navami day. Anup Singh
and Arjun Singh try to send the villagers away, not wanting the ceremonies to be
interrupted. But Desingh sees them from afar, invites them in, and when he hears
that his lands are being plundered, swears an oath to cut off the Nawabs head
before he next drinks water. He gets together his troops, led by Arjun Singh, Anup
Singh, Narayan Singh, Pancam Singh, Bakhtawar Singh, Ram Singh, Muhammad
Beg Khan, Said Daud Khan and various others. These commanders once more
plead with Desingh not to go to battle; it is, after all, navanfi, the day when they
worship their swords and other arms (but inauspicious for the commencement of
tasks), and it would be better to wait for dasharni, the most auspicious date for
combat (when Rama defeated Ravana, for instance). But Desingh refuses. Here,
the translated narrative ends abruptly, but the dgnouement can be predicted.
Indeed, the third fragment picks up almost exactly at this point.35 It begins with
the Nawabs message to Jai Singh (as Tej Singh appears here), summoning him to
his presence, and Jai Singhs refusal. Jai Singh is in such a rage at this perceived
insult, that he states that only the court at Delhi (huzur) can settle matters; and if
water.

35
OIOC, Mackenzie Collection, General (Carnatic), Vol. IX, No. 13g, pp.162-65,
Memoir Relating to the Death of Jai Singh at Gingee, translated by Soobarow from
communicated by Reddy Row (October 1808).

Fragment of a
a

Marathi Ms.

90

he is not satisfied, that he will destroy the four castes, and bring destruction down
on everyone. His refusal is communicated to Saadatullah Khan, but with all sorts
of courtesies. The latter confers with Todar Mal and Dakhni Rai, and is advised to
give up hopes of taking Senji, and instead concentrate on Tanjavur. But he refuses,
saying that if he retreats before Jai Singh, his authority will be eroded before all
the palaiyakkarars. Instead, he sends troops under subordinate chieftains; Jai Singh,
meanwhile, is at his prayers. He hears the drums (naqdra) and demands what the
sound is; his hircarrahs inform him the Diwans army is approaching. He then
summons his uncle Sultan Singh, asks the other jamadrs to get ready, and then
asks his uncles permission to visit his wife, the Rani. But he is told that their guru
has told them that such a visit is not possible for another four months for astrological
reasons; Jai Singh pleads with his uncle, stating that he is now all of 20 years old,
and that he may never see his queen if he dies in battle. Sultan Singh agrees, and a
curtain (pardah) is rigged up between them so that they can speak without seeing
each other. Jai Singh declares that he is about to leave, sad that he has never seen
her face. She replies that he will surely win, provided, however, he does not leave
on that particular day, which is inauspicious. He disregards her advice, goes back
to the sadr, and asks for cows milk, which he gives to each of his followers. His
horse, Bara Hazari Saji, is brought out, and fitted with a golden saddle. Jai Singh
mounts up, and goes to the temple of Sri Ranganatha, and before the god, reviews
his troops. But only 300 men from a total of 700 are present.
Meanwhile, the Diwan has treacherously breached the bund of the tank, and let
water flow in to swell the river. His huge army is divided into four parts, but Jai
Singh orders his Rajput troops to attack the chiefs alone, and not the common
soldiers. He first attacks Subhanji of Tiruvannamalai, and after an exchange of
fire, the latter, wounded, is carried off in a palankeen. He then meets Daulat Khan,
and asks him where the Diwan is. Daulat Khan falsely replies that he himself is the
Diwan, and is immediately struck down with a lance (barchi), which is Jai Singhs
preferred weapon in this version. Meanwhile, Daulat Khans brother takes Sultan
Singh prisoner, but Jai Singh frees him. The Diwan, discomfited at this lack of
success, flees the battlefield.
Jai Singh now meets Bangaru Naidu, who is seated on an elephant, and unseats
him. But some others on the Diwans side breach another tank of water, and Jai
Singh and his horsemen are mired in the mud. Further battles follow with Saadat
Khan, brother-in-law of Daulat Khan, in which Sultan Singh is wounded and
Saadat Khan finally captured. As Jai Singh turns back to Senji, the.enemy mocks
him for running away. He returns to fight, and the cunning Bangaru Naidu (who
has been concealed near the bank of a tank) comes out and releases Saadat Khan.
At last, Jai Singh reaches the Diwan, and having identified him correctly, they
begin to fight. His horse, at a sign, places his feet on the head of the Diwans
elephant, while Jai Singh strikes the Diwan senseless. Meanwhile, some soldiers
cut the legs of Jai Singhs horse. As the end approaches, the translated text breaks
off abruptly once more.
These three texts taken together already offer some important variations on the
theme. In the third, for example, the figure of Mahabat Khan has disappeared

91

altogether, and most of the text is occupied with details of the fighting by Tej
Singh himself, with a particular insistence on the breaching of tanks (absent in the
other versions), a military tactic that actually became rather common in the wars
of the area only from the 1750s onwards. Clear intimations appear (in a manner
more explicit than Senji Narayanans narrative, which does however mention the
issue in passing) that Tej Singhs fate is tied to the tension between his drive
towards self-assertion and primeval, natural forces: the warning of his wife, the
restrictions imposed by his guru, and so on. It is also of some interest to note his
rather portentuous threat, at the outset of this fragment, to destroy the four castes,
and wreak disorder on the world.
This said, there is little doubt that it is the second of the Marathi texts that is the
richest in its possibilities. It carries with it some of the characteristic preoccupations
of Marathi bakhar tradition, and a major role is naturally given to stock villainous
Muslim characters like the Nizam ul-mulk Asaf Jah, a particular hate-figure for
the Marathas. The tie-up that is created between Tej Singh and Chatrasal (the
most prestigious Bundela figure from a Maratha viewpoint, rather than the dubious
Bir Singh Deo), as well as the extravagant claims put forward on behalf of Chatrasal
himself surely represent a re-reading, or a recreation through oral transmission, of
the Chatra Prakash of Lal Kavi, and similar Bundela traditions.
We have already noted that the moral certainty of Tej Singhs position has
increased manifold in this text, as has the explicit nature of the portrayal of the
two sides in the struggle in stock religious terms. It is the Muslim Mughal wazrrs
who conspire against Chatrasal and Sarup Singh; and Nizam ul-mulk, Nasir Jang
and Daud Khan are all portrayed as devious and scheming. The episode of the
Rani of Devunur is also significant, for now it has become a part of Tej Singhs
ethic to succour helpless women in distress, while at the same time refusing gifts
from that inferior sex (the acceptance of which would sully him, and render him
equal to them). Indeed, there is no room for ambiguities in the second text, as Tej
Singh and his father are assimilated to an explicit and rather aggressive Hindu
symbolism (the jayanti carried by Sarup Singh, the milch-cows gifted by him to
his soldiers, his support of Brahmins, the Dasahra celebrated by Tej Singh), as
opposed to their Muslim opponents. Even the extraneous figure of the brother-inlaw Arjun Singh, who dithers, but finally sees that he cannot abandon his old
loyalties, does not damage this central thrust. Concomitantly, Saadatullah Khan
has been reduced here to an altogether minor role, from being the wise and
sympathetic father-figure in Senji Narayanans narrative. As for Mahabat Khan,
the heroic Muslim warrior paired with Tej Singh in some other versions that we
have considered above, it is surely no coincidence that he disappears from view in
this text (even if Tej Singh is left with some minor Muslim warriors in his camp).
The

Tecthkurajan Katai: Winning the Horse

The texts with which we have been concerned thus far pale in comparison with the
elaborate folk epic in which the figure of Tej Singh comes.down to us today: the
Tecinkurjall Katai, which, in one printed edition, runs to 2,660 lines. Of the fact

92

that the Katai itself has, like others of its genre, swelled over the years, there is no
doubt.6 One of the earliest surviving manuscript versions, prepared at Pondicherry
in 1849-1850, and itself based on an earlier manuscript and a palm-leaf text, is
roughly 1,430 lines long, and thus tends to omit some of the elaborate early
dedicatory sections that appear in printed versions of the text.37 The Katai text
has, besides, a Telugu counterpart, a discussion of which we shall leave aside for
another occasion, when it may be considered more fully in the rather intricate
context of writings of this heroic genre in the early modern Telugu country. 18 We
should also note that despite the frequent attribution of the Tecinkurja11 Katai in
printed versions to Pukalentip Pulavar, the Tamil text in fact has no known authoras indeed may befit its status as a folk epic;9 the Telugu text is attributed to a
certain Ravuri Venkata Subbayya. 41
The text begins with six invocatory verses, and the dedications hold a particular
significance. One is to Vinayakar, master of auspicious acts and moments, one of
the major themes on which the text hangs. Another is to Murukar, the deity of
warfare, and the text, is largely about the prowess ofTecinku as a warrior; and so
on ... with the central dedication to Vishnu hardly being a surprise, in view of the
crucial role played by Sri Ranganatha in determining the course of the plot, as
shall be seen later.
After a brief set of further introductory verses, in which the town of Senji is
described, the work begins in earnest with an evocation of sages meditating on
Siva and Vishnu on Mount Meru, from which it passes to one particular Muslim
(tulukkan), afaqir from the Kongu country (koriku pakkirzj, with all sorts of magical
powers. To his lot falls a magical horse bom in heaven, which, losing its way, has
36

For an exercise that parallels the present one in some respects, see J.F. Richards and Velcheru
Narayana Rao, Banditry in Mughal India: Historical and Folk Perceptions, The Indian Economic
and Social History Review (hereafter IESHR
), Vol. 17(1), 1980, pp. 95-120, reproduced in Muzaffar
Alam and Sanjay Subrahmanyam, eds, The Mughal State, 1526-1750, Delhi, 1998, pp. 491-519. The
central figure there is also from the early eighteenth century, that of Pap Rai or Sarvayi Papadu. Also
compare Shail Mayaram, Mughal State Formation: The Mewati Counter-Perspective, IESHR, Vol.
34(2), 1997, pp. 169-97.
37
Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris, Mss. Indien 429, tal,
c
ā
Tecinkur
&
p
n
vi
amacr; 30 ff., Copie sur un
manuscrit appartenant a M. Aith G. Mouthum par Djagannadou; collationé par moi Ravu en suite sur
un autre imp. sur ola(1849-50). One of the earliest published texts is from Madras (Cennai) in 1868,
and is attributed to Pukalentippulavar.
38
For a discussion, inter alia, of the Telugu version, see David Shulman, Arcot Heroes: Desingu
Rāja and Teyvıka Rāja
n in Text and Time, Paper presented to the Conference on Sources and Time,
EFEO-IFP, Pondicherry, 11-13 January, 1997, forthcoming in the conference volume.
39
Pukalentip Pulavar lyarriya Tecinkur
n Katai, (Patankaluta
ja
ā
), Madras, 1973. This bazaar
n
edition has a number of interesting illustrations, but for the text, I have generally preferred a more
recent edition, Cu. Canmukacuntaram, ed., Tecinkur
n Katai, Madras, 1984. A number of other
ja
ā
editions exist, from 1868 (already noted above), 1896, 1900, 1904, 1908, 1909, 1911, 1913, 1915,
1916, 1929, 1931, 1932 and 1935 (as well as several others that are undated). These data were provided
to me by the late Dr. Sankaralingam of the Roja Muthiah Library in Cennai (Madras) to whom I would
like to express my gratitude.
40
Ravuri Venkata Subbayya Desingu-r
, ed. Nelaturu Subrahmanya, Madras, 1934.
ju-kath
ā

93
come to

earth.

The faqfir

who has in his

possession various formulae and

tricks

(mantira tantira) also has with him a magic kohl, with which he makes a mark

on

the horse and comes to control it by putting it in a trance. He then takes it to Delhi,
where the Padshah resides, tethers the horse with a magic chain outside the palace,
and goes in search of a reward.
This is a rather curious Delhi however, with gopurams and mantapams as in a
south Indian town; the Delhi Padshahs household is full of men with names like
Rajalinga Babu (his first minister), who has subordinates from the south such as
the two messengers Pappaiyan and Cinnaiyan, besides the obviously south Indian
chief scribe Ranga Pillai. The horse, on awaking from its trance, neighs in anger,
and the whole town shakes, all the buildings tremble, and the rajas around are
filled with fear. Rajalinga Babu, the minister, comes to see what the disturbance is
all about, to find the marvelous horse from heaven, together with the obsequious
faqir, who tells him of its origins, the fact that it is 12 years old, and above all the
(apparently highly significant) fact that it was bom on a Friday. He states, besides,
that at present no one on earth can ride the horse, such is its fierceness. However,
only a child bom as a gift from the heavens will be able to ride it, since the heavens
alone can claim what pertains to them.
Rajalinga Babu falls to the ground in wonder on hearing all this. He soon recovers
from his state, and sends a letter to the Delhi ruler advising him of events. The
latter then gets atop his elephant, and accompanied by subordinate rajas and various
troops, marches to inspect the wonder horse. But the horse, seeing their advance
from afar, stamps its hooves, and the troops are all thrown in disarray, while the
Delhi ruler is thrown off his elephant. However, he finds all this very amusing, and
giving a great laugh declares to Rajalinga Babu that it is nothing short of a great
novelty. The faqir then comes forward, does his salaams, and once more explains
in brief the horses nature. The Delhi ruler is overjoyed, tells the faqir to remain
with him in Delhi, and asks his subordinates to make adequate arrangements.
The Delhi ruler now begins to test the truth of the faqirs words. Is it indeed true
that no one on earth can ride the heavenly horse? He thus asks for Rajalinga Babu
and the other ministers to find out who the most likely candidates are. The minister
replies after due thought that in Senjikottai fort, there was a certain Curacinkurajan,
who had two sons, Taranicinkurajan, and his brother. Later verses make it clear
that this brother is the formidable Terani Maharajan. If anybody on earth can ride
the horse, declares Rajalinga Babu, it is these latter two. On hearing this, the Delhi
ruler asks his chief scribe to draft a letter to Terani Maharajan, praising him for his
incomparable powers, and asking him to come to Delhi immediately. The hircarrah
Pappaiyan is sent out, with orders to return in 20 days. Taking the fastest mail
routes, Pappaiyan reaches Senji in 10 days, where he finds Terani Maharajan in
meditation. On seeing the envoy, he calls his brother Taranicinkurajan, and informs
him of the arrival of the letter from Delhi, and on opening it and reading its contents,
they decide to set out together.
But first there is the arduous business of farewells, as Terani Maharajan goes to
meet his wife Rambai, who is in the tenth month of her pregnancy (pattumata

94

karppam). She pleads with him not to go. but he replies that the Delhi Maharajas
order cannot be put off; he will, however, return in three months time. She gives
him leave, and Terani Maharajan and his younger brother Tarani now set out for
Delhi (line 270). Other rulers subordinate to him also accompany Terani on this
voyage to Delhi. On arriving there, they appear before the Delhi ruler; he places
before the 56 assembled kings the challenge concerning the horse that cannot be
ridden, and Terani promptly agrees to mount it. The Delhi ruler now warns them
that if they show fear at the sight of the horse, he will deal with them harshly, kill
them or put them in prison.
These preliminaries having been dealt with, the crowd of rulers go on to the
stables, where they inspect the horse from all around, while it eyes them. Then, as
usual, it begins stamping its hooves with a thunderous sound. The rajas either fall
pell-mell to the ground, or rush about confusedly in a panic of fear, and there is
great chaos. Terani and Tarani do not fall, but the former hesitates while the latter
bows down his head. The rajas protest to the Delhi ruler, who meanwhile is naturally
laughing at his triumph; they can ride any earthly horse, they say, but this one from
heaven is only fit for the gods. How can they, mere mortals, ride it? But the Delhi
Maharajan will have none of it. Now that they have failed to keep up their part of
the bargain, they will be his slaves (atimai) for seven years. The rajas, and Terani
and Tarani among them, have to agree.
All of this serves as preparation for Tecinkurajans birth, which takes place a
mere seven days after the departure of his father, Terani Maharajan, from Senji.
There is naturally great joy in Senji that a son has been bom, mixed with sorrow
when the news of Terani and Taranis fate arrives 20 days later. An elaborate
passage now follows, describing the childhood of the young Tecinkupalan, as he
is called, possibly modelled on versions of Krishnas youth in the Braj country. A
few score verses into the account (line 387), a new character is casually introduced
in the form of Movuttukkaran, who becomes his boon companion. They ride horses
together from before the age of five, go fearlessly into the nearby forests to hunt
tigers, bears and lions, and sport on the banks of the river Sankarabharani. It may
not be far-fetched to see in Movuttukkaran a sort of Balarama to Tecinkurajans
Krishna, save for the minor difference, that he is younger than Tecinku.
Eventually, on a given day, Tecinkurajan asks his mother who and where his
father is. She then explains to him at great length (lines 417-43) the episode of
Teranis departure for Delhi, the contest with the horse, and his eventual imprisonment. By now, she notes, five of the seven years have passed, and in another two
years his father will return. The child Tecinkurajan enters into a fury of shame on
hearing this, and his teeth rattle and his eyes bum. He asks his mother for permission
to set out from there. She pleads with him, but he is firm. Bathing in the Sankarabharani river, he worships Ranganatha, telling him that he is on his way to Delhi.
Significantly, in the prayer, he identifies himself as the gods child (un kulantai
nan urukkup po[e1]). The god blesses him, Tecinkurajan emerges from the temple,
and calls Movuttukkaran to his side. The two children are provided with special
mail-horses (tapdl kutiraikao, and cash for expenses. They set out impatiently,

95

and reach Delhi in 10 days, where the Padshah is lording over his court, in which
all the captive subordinate kings (including Terani and Tarani) are shown
languishing. Into this scene walk Tecinkurajan and Movuttukkaran; who survey
the kings around, and address the Delhi ruler with salaams. Tecinkurajan tells
him, with little ado, that he has heard of the horse, and that he has come to ride it.
The announcement falls like a thunderclap on the court. The assembled rajas look
at one another in astonishment; the Delhi ruler sees before him a child as beautiful
as Manmatha (the God of Love) himself. He asks him to
identify himself; what is
his place of origin (uru), name, region, his fathers name, and his mothers name?
He replies proudly that he is from Senji, that his father is Terani Rajan, and that he

himself is Tecinku Mahipalan. His father and uncle are in the court as prisoners
for having failed to ride the horse; but he will ride it, and take them back with him.
Waste no more time, Tecinkurajan tells the Delhi ruler, and bring the horse forward.
On hearing his parentage, Terani and Tarani rush forward. The former embraces
him, seats him on his lap, and covers him with endearments. Tecinkurajan is scornful
though. His father and uncle have shown fear before the horse, he says, but he will
ride it and show them. After further exclamations, preparations are made to go to
the horses stable. There, he advances fearlessly towards the horse, and having
asked Movuttukkaran to release the horses legs, prepares to mount it with an
exclamation of Govinda, Sri Krishna. Once he has mounted it, the horse tries to
free itself, rearing and stamping. But Tecinkurajan has its reins firmly in his hands.
He now addresses his father, telling him that he has after all managed to mount the
horse. Terani pleads with him to get off, telling him that it is, after all, a divine
horse. Jump off and save yourself, he insists. But Tecinkurajan is adamant, trusting
in his utterances of Govinda, Govinda, and Hari, Hari, Sri Mukunda.
The horse now flies into the heavens, and approaches the sun. But Tecinkurajan
refuses to give up, and continues to try to check the horse. The horse, by now
enraged, flies about the heavens at great speed, causing the forests and mountains
to shake. The very gods are forced to flee from one place to another on account of
the storm caused by this titanic struggle, as Tecinkurajan uses the bit and spurs
(lakan and cimi!?) to check the increasingly furious horse. Eventually, it becomes
clear that there is no resolution to the conflict. The horse realises that the child
will not let him go, and the child that he cannot control the horse, which has, over
several dozen verses, rushed about over a great part of the earth and heavens. It is
only now that Tecinkurajan cries out once more Govinda, Sri Krishna, and prays
to Sri Ranganatha for his aid. The god had refrained from intervening until his
help was explicitly asked for.
God now appears, and tells the horse that it is too early to bring the child by the
route to the heavens (kaya mdrkkam). He instructs the horse to take the child
back to the court, promising it that in a short time, when the battle is fought, both
it and the child will attain moksha. The horse does a fu(1 prostration before the
god, and full of joy at this impending release from its cares, agrees to take the
child back to Delhi. The god, on being thanked by Tecinkurajan, blesses him and
disappears. Horse and child now descend from the sky, to the astonishment of the

96

56 southern kings, who are still in Delhi. They rush off to seek out Terani Maharajan
and the Delhi Padshah, and a crowd gathers to greet the returning Tecinkurajan.
Tecinkurajan, seated on his fathers lap, is now salaamed by the 56 kings, and
the ruler of Delhi, who greet him by saying, Ramuramure Sitaramure Raja
Tecinku. The families resident in Delhi also come to pay their respects. The horse
is watered and fed, and given all that it needs. The Delhi ruler now makes it a
point to give Tecinkurajan a particularly high seat in the court, and orders his men
to bring him 1,000 elephants and 1,000 horses, besides pearl necklaces and other
signs of favour. He also offers him a special horse called Nilaveni that he has in
his stables.
Even in this moment of triumph, however, Tecinkurajan continues to think of
his friend Movuttukkaran, whom he greets with affection. He offers him the horse,
Nilaveni, which Movuttukkaran accepts. But the Delhi ruler is not done yet. He
declares that he will not rest content until Tecinkurajan marries his daughter, simply
called Rani Ammal. If Tecinkurajan agrees to the marriage, it can be conducted
whenever he wishes. Tecinkurajan accepts, but Terani Maharajan intercedes to
state that it is too soon to think of this. The marriage should be conducted when
his son is 20 years old. The Delhi ruler, content, orders Rajalinga Babu to release
the 56 kings, and Tecinkurajan and his family return home in triumph, with
Movuttukkaran on Nilaveni. At Senj i, where they return after an absence of several
months (the time of the epic struggle with the horse), they are greeted by Rambai,
who is naturally overjoyed. The first part of the text thus ends with Terani, Tarani
and Tecinkurajan all settled in Senji. This portion of the Katai has thus occupied
roughly 800 lines, or slightly under a third of the whole.

The Revenue Conflict

The second half of the text may be thought the begin with the brief account of
Tecinkurajans marriage with the princess from Delhi. This takes place when he is
18 years old, and she is 12; the marriage is organised by the uncle Taranicinku,
since Tecinkurajans parents have died in the meanwhile. In view of the brides
age, and for certain other reasons that are mentioned only later, Tecinkurajan cannot
as yet consummate his marriage; he and his wife are kept wholly secluded from
one. another. She too turns out to be a great devotee of Sri Ranganatha, to whom
she prays for hours on end.
Meanwhile, in Delhi, the ruler calls the faithful Rajalinga Babu to check on the
accounts of the tribute (pakuti, derived from the Hindustani pag4l) paid to him by
subordinate kings. A question is raised concerning the money due from the Arcot
Nawab Saidulla (ceitull). Rajalinga Babu replies that the 56 subordinate kings
have paid their dues, but that in fact from Arcot, there is an account of 12 years
dues outstanding. The scribe is at once called for, and a letter sent off to Nawab
Saidulla, whose bearer is none other than the hircarrah, Pappaiya. The Nawab is
asked to produce the dues within eight days of receipt of the letter. Pappaiya himself
arrives in Arcot after a rapid journey that takes him 10 days.

97

The Nawab is alarmed. He calls his chief accountant Ranganatha Pillai, and
asks him to undertake a check of the treasury. He in turn calls his subordinate
Bangaru Nayakkan, and the two make a thorough investigation into the matter.
Who has, in fact, not paid up? After going over all the subordinate rulers, finally,
they hit on the culprits. It is Senji, ruled over by Tecinku Mahipalan, son ofTerani
Maharajan, in turn son of Curacinku (lines 900-903).
Here, the figure of a certain Tonra Mallanna (or Tonra Malloji), who clearly
corresponds to Lala Todar Mal in the other narratives wehave examined, is introduced into the text. He is sent for, and ordered to go out and collect the dues. But
he refuses, unless he is given a powerful force, so that he can reduce the Senji
rulers to their rightful status. He then boasts of how he will thoroughly demolish
the pretensions of the Senji raja, bring him to book, and deliver the arrears without
delay. But before he sets out, Tonra Mallan must bathe and eat, get his elephants
ready, and having said Narayana, Govinda (suggesting his Vaishnava affiliations),
only then proceed. His forces play the military kettledrums to signal his passage.
The swords rattle, and the horses hooves thunder.
These sounds are heard in Timiri, whose commander is a certain Shaikh
Muhammad. He emerges from his fort, and greeting Tonra Mallan, asks him where
he is headed. After all,.he has paid his dues regularly; why then are the war-drums
being sounded? Tonra Mallan explains to him his intention of going against Senji,
and Shaikh Muhammad is aghast. Tecinkurajan cannot be trifled with, he says.
The strength of his arms and legs are enough to make one flee, and if he only rolls
his eyes, no one can withstand him. You will never win a fight with him, Tonra
Mallanna, he concludes (line 957). Tonra Mallan scoffs, and says that he can take
care of Tecinkurajan. He then makes his way to Arni, where once more the sounds
of his army are heard by Venkatarayar, Srinivasa Rao and Candra Maharaja.
Venkatarayar comes out with a force of 1,000 horse, and meets him midway. He

repeats, practically word for word, the questions posed by Shaikh Muhammad,
and receives

less the

response (lines 984-87).

describe
goes
Tecinkurajans invincibility, his pride
and hauteur, as also the fact that he has the Paracari horse from heaven. Tonra
Mallan goes into a fright when he hears all this, and begins to wonder what sort of
a task he has undertaken. Venkatarayar, however, gives him a crucial piece of
information: Tecinkurajan is a Vaishnava (Vishnu pakti karan), a devotee of
Ranganatha, who prays to the god day and night. If he sees a Vaishnava castemark (ndmam), he will take fright. Now, I am no longer afraid, declares Tonra
Mallan, and adds, wearing a ndmam, I will bring the Senj.i raja around.
Tonra Mallan now makes his way to the fortified centre of Devanur, near Senji,
where he pitches his camp (pulaiyam) on the banks of the Sankarabharani river.
For three days, he does nothing, and on the fourth, early in the morning, has the
nakciru sounded, so that it is heard in Senji. Tecinkurajan is praying at this time in
New Senji, while his uncle is busy with administration in Old Senji. The uncle
looks out from the ramparts and sees the camp below, at the rivers edge. He gets
on a horse and rides down to the temple, where Tecinkurajan in busy chanting
more or

Venkatarayar then

same

on to

98

Hari, Namo Narayana, and Krishna Hari Govinda. Interrupting the prayer with

impatience (obviously he is not as great a devotee as his nephew), Taranicinku

informs his nephew that the Nawabs army in everywhere. Something must be
done urgently. Tecinkurajan calms his fears. Even though they have not paid tribute
for 12 years, they have nothing to worry about. They have been ruling virtuously,
while saying Rama, Rama. He asks his uncle to find out who has been sent from
Arcot, and goes back to his prayers.
Taranicinku now sends out two men (the ubiquitous hircarrahs) to Tonra
Mallans camp. When they arrive, he greets them by saying Ramu Ramuro Ramu
Ramuro, and asks them what they want. They have been sent by Tecinkurajan to
fetch him, they declare. Tonra Mallans legs and hands begin to shake. He quickly
climbs atop his elephant, but notes that he has no namam. He thus takes the
powdered limestone (cuppdmbu) he has with him, and wetting it with spittle (eccil)
makes a namam. He then stabs the elephant, and taking its blood, makes the red
mark down the middle of the namam (lines 1084-85).
Meanwhile, Tecinkurajan, having finished his prayers, gets himself ready, with
his turban, sword and other accoutrements. He then gives a series of orders that a
number of men (various Singhs) should be asked to come to the court (koluvu). A
message should also be sent out to Movuttukkaran to come urgently. Men begin
gathering with great rapidity in the fortress, as Tonra Mallan arrives on his elephant.
He jumps off, exclaiming Narayana, Govinda, and does his salaams.
Why have you come here, Tonra Mallanna, asks Tecinkurajan, in a towering
rage. I have just now turned 22, and in all these years, the Nawabs army has
never been here. He demands further why the naqra is being sounded in his
territory (en cimaiyil). Tonra Mallan falls at his feet terrified, and begs him not to
get angry. The fact is that all the other chieftains (p.laiyappa((u) have paid the
Nawab tribute, save Senji. Hearing this, Tecinkurajan is filled with fury (kopam).
He draws his sword to kill Tonra Mallan, and the emissary faints dead away. When
he regains consciousness, Tecinku harangues him, telling him to take back a
message to the Nawab to come out from his fortress of Arcot, and meet him the
next day in battle if he is a man, and has any courage at all (the metaphor of a
moustache is used among others, to signify courage). He will pay him a tribute
with his sword, he declares, adding, Do sword-wielding soldiers pay tribute?,
and then, still more insultingly, Should I then pay revenue instalments to a fishvendor Labbai boy? (karuvati. vikkiya lappai payalukkuk kisti kattukirato) (line
1154). His final ironic offer is that they carry back sand (manao that lies outside
the fort as revenue.
Tonra Mallans arms and legs shake before this furious outburst, and he wonders
whether he will ever be able to escape alive from Senj i. He prays to Sri Ranganatha,
that if he manages to return to Arcot, he will feed 1,000 people in gratitude, give
gifts of clothes (vastira tijam) to all comers, arrange marriages (paying their
expenses), and do a whole host of other worthy acts. Meanwhile, Tecinkurajan
laughs at his discomfiture and reassures him:

99

I am not afraid of your Nawab, Tonra Malloji.

But on seeing the nmam on your forehead, I was afraid, Tonra
On hearing Rangars words, I was afraid Tonra Mal lanna (lines

Malloji.
1179-81).

Tonra Mallan heaves a sigh of relief; his ploy with the namam has paid off after
all. He takes leave and hurries abjectly from the fort, his pompous claims at the
outset of his trip now totally deflated. There, he gathers together the jamadars,
and tells them they will return to Arcot that very night. As he approaches Arcot,
the Nawab happily calls Bangaru Nayakkan to his side, thinking that the money
has arrived. When Tonra Mallan arrives before him to present his salaams, he asks
impatiently where the money is. There is no money, there is no cash, Nawab
Saidulla, replies Tonra Mallan. He adds that he has done the rounds of all the
chieftains in his time, but never has he seen one like Tecinkurajan, who truly made
him afraid. A dead man has returned to you, Nawab Saidaulla, he says, referring
to his own narrow escape, and goes on to declare that as for Tecinkurajans reply,
he dare not utter it verbally, and has instead brought it in writing.
The Nawab, furious at his failure, swears that he will take Senji forthwith. He
calls his scribe, Ranganatha Pillai, and has him read Tecinkurajans letter, which
only puts him in greater fury with its insolence. Amongst other remarks, it reiterates
that if the Nawab Sahib is a man (r pi!!ai) he should come to Senji, but that if he
is a woman (pen pillai), he can stay behind in Arcot. Filled with rage, he writes off
to all the pii!aiyakkrars under his command, asking them to prepare for war.
They now gather one by one, and are listed in detail. Armaments are made ready,
and they include guns (tuppkki), gunpowder (kuntu maruntu), and some Frankish
weapons (pranki kuntu). When all preparations have been made, Bangaru
Nayakkan, who is portrayed as a sort of major-domo, appears before the Nawab
to tell him that they are ready to march. The Nawab now gets his own personal
weapons and armour in order, has swords tied on the tusks of his elephants, and
gets his elephants and their mahouts (amptrikkaj ready. In all of this account, the
numbers mentioned for elephants, horses, guns and soldiers are enormous. Finally,
the Nawab reviews his troops; the elephants salute the Nawab by raising their
right legs. And at last, saying Allahu, Allahu, the Nawab climbs atop his own
elephant and sets out (line 1322).
The thunder of the approaching army reaches Senji, where Tecinkurajan is, as
usual, busy in prayer. Taranicinku, his uncle, on the other hand comes tumbling
down once more, as he had done the earlier time when Tonra Mallans army approached. We have been struck by a thunderbolt Uti viluntutu), he tells his nephew, and
informs him of the Nawabs encampment by the banks of the Sankarabharani, near
Devanur town. Meanwhile, the Nawab calls Bangaru Nayakkan and they plan the
first stage of hostilities, by sending out a party to raid the innocent, unprotected
folk of Devanur. While this is happening, Taranicinku is busy urging his nephew
to abandon his puja halfway, and get to the serious business of negotiation. At
this, Tecinkurajan, who has thus far been immersed in prayer, opens his eyes, and

100/

tells his uncle that there is no cause to interrupt the pi[ja. When he is good and
ready, he will go out to fight, and cut the enemy down like slicing cucumber
(ve/(arikka). He will reduce the Nawabs army to small fragments, and smash
them to fibrous pulp (cakkai). But all this must await the end of the puja. So
saying, he returns to his prayers.
As this conversation is taking place, another of the Nawabs subordinates,
Cupanki Turai, mounts a further devastating raid on Devanur, looting and burning,
and forcing the population to flee helter-skelter. The people of Devanur arrive at
New Senji, where they find Tecinkurajan in prayer, uttering his usual Vaishnava
prayers. Cupanki Turai is wreaking havoc on Devanur, they report, destroying
houses and homes, and driving away their cows and calves. Their women and
children are under threat. What should they do in such a situation, they wail? No
need to panic, the Raja responds. If the Nawabs forces have attacked Devanur,
which is in his territory (en cmaiyil), he will force the Nawab to pay back in the
like coin, 50 times over. He develops the opposition in terms of his side as the
Tamil side (tamil cirai) versus the other Muslim side (tulukkan cirai) in the
course of this exchange. And finally, having placated the people, he returns to his
prayers.
But other interruptions are in store, for the Rajas kinsman (dayadi), Tancinkuraja
now rides up on a horse, reporting that the Nawabs men are getting ready to jump
into Senjikottai. At this, Tecinkurajan finally reacts, stopping his prija halfway.
How can I conduct a ptija if the Tulukkan has forced his way into Rangars temple!
O Tancinkuraja, I shall conduct a puja by hacking down the Tulukkan, he cries.
So saying, he goes up to the palace and begins to put on his armour, and get ready
his weapons, including his famous sword (aintu tuli7mparicai katti). He also gets
together his crowd of followers, Jayaram, Gangaram, Ram Singh, and so on. With
his men (cippy mdrkal) in front of him, his uncle, ever the buffoon and coward,
points out the daunting odds. The Nawab has 50,000 horse, and 100,000 foot, and
the Raja has 300 horse. Tecinkurajan reminds him that his followers are no ordinary
men, and thinks above all of his friend in Valudavur, Movuttukkaran, whom hewith an interesting play on words-calls mdppillai, meaning son-in-law, but also
perhaps a reference to the fact that Movuttukkaran is Muslim (line 1496).
In point of fact, Movuttukkaran is about to become a son-in-law; his marriage is
being solemnised, when a hircarrah arrives with Tecinkurajans urgent summons
from Senji. In the marriage enclosure (kaliyanap pantai), the ceremony is in
progress, an altogether curious affair. Saying Allah, Allah, he is about to tie the
tali. Saying Rama, Rama, he is about to tie the tfli (lines 1514-15), around the
neck of the bride. At this stage, the hircarrah interrupts, saying Rama Rama,
Sitarama, Movuttukkaran, your raja and dear friend has sent you a letter. I have
been sent to deliver this letter to you. In the middle of the ceremony, Movuttukkaran
takes the letter, inauspiciously, with his left hand (itatukaiyilai), reads it, and at
once places the tali back on the tray. He announces to the assembled guests that
there is happy news; he is headed off to fight the Nawab. Having hacked down the

101

Nawab, he shall return and tie the tdli around the brides neck. So saying, he bids
them farewell. But his mother interrupts, and launches into an impassioned speech,
pleading with him to finish the marriage and leave the next day. Movuttukkaran
replies with a curious set of metaphors of battle, saying that in fact he is going to
tie the tali, not to his bride but to the Nawabs son (line 1564). How, after all, can
he miss that engagement? He philosophises about the inevitability of death (cdvu)
for the warrior, and how she, as his mother, should be prepared for this. His mother
bursts into tears, and falls to the ground in despair, and Movuttukkaran goes in
search of his famous horse, Nilaveni.
But the horse behaves oddly, for once showing reluctance, so that Movuttukkaran,
in anger, has to use the spurs. The horse rears, nearly unseating him, and
Movuttukkaran now descends and addresses his horse soothingly, promising it
great rewards if they return successful from battle. Then, saluting the horse,
Movuttukkaran remounts, and proceeds on his way. The wonderful Nilaveni carries
him along at a rapid pace, so that he is soon at the Nawabs camp. The Nawabs
men, seeing a single horse, rush forward to attack. But Movuttukkaran and his
horse are more than a match for them, and they spread havoc in the Nawabs camp
causing soldiers to flee left and right, even abandoning their meals halfway.
Thereafter, Movuttukkaran proceeds to Senji, and saluting Tecinkurajan, asks him
why he has been sent for. The Raja at once remarks that Movuttukkaran, scented
with musk and sandal, is wearing his marriage dress, and demands angrily what is
up. Have you tied the tali and come, he asks? To which Movuttukkaran replies,

dissimulating:
Can a sword-wielding soldier (cippdy) ever have
Would I ever tie a tali to a girl, Raja Tecinku?
Ill go and get married in Arcot, Raja Tecinku.

You must
On

wife?

certainly come to my wedding, Raja Tecinku (lines 1669-72).

hearing this replay, Tecinkurajan is satisfied. Calling Movuttukkaran to his

come along with him to

side, he tells him not to leave on his own, for he too will

battle. He further confides that it is now three years since he has been married, but
that he has not yet been allowed to see his wifes face (pencati mukam). Now he
shall rectify that and return. At this stage, his uncle arrives, and Tecinkurajan
explains his intention to go to battle, as well as his desire to see his wife just once
before that. The uncle is aghast, and at last reveals the secret reason why he and
his wife have been kept separate. It turns out that the circumstances of
Tecinkurajans whole life are ringed with inauspicious omens. Thus, says his uncle;
were bom on Friday, Tecinku my son.
The Rani was born on Friday, Tecinku my son.
Your horse too was bom on Friday, Tecinku my son.
This fight too began on Friday, Tecinku my son.

You

102

This very

day too is Friday, Tecinku my son.

Stay today, and go tomorrow, Tecinku my son.
Then you will win the fight and return, Tecinku

my son

To this the Raja replies that in all these years, the Nawabs men have not come
Senji, but now they have surrounded the fort. How can I do nothing while the
Muslim (tulukkan) enters Rangars temple?, he asks. He shall go out and slaughter
the Nawabs men and return. As for the question of the day to be chosen, how can
he think of taking a step back from a course already chosen? His uncle replies that
it is he, after all, who has brought up Tecinkurajan. He has not eaten his nephews
food; rather, it is the other way around, and this should define their relationship.
Now, their guru has ordained that Tecinkurajan should not meet his wife for six
months, of which only three have elapsed. He hence cannot permit their meeting.
Tecinkurajan enters into a fury (kopam) once more, and his uncle hence tries to
seek a compromise. A screen will be rigged up between him and his wife, and they
can communicate thus, without seeing each other. Workmen are sent for to construct
this, and word is communicated to the Rani that the Raja has called for her. She is
naturally overjoyed, and gets herself ready in an elaborate fashion, bathing,
perfuming herself, and finally getting dressed for the meeting. When she enters
the room, the slight sound she makes comes to the Rajas ears. She addresses him
haughtily, perhaps in feigned anger, and asks why he has now sent for her. He
announces the approach of the Nawabs army, and his intention to go out and
fight, and hence his desire to meet her. She replies that it is absurd for him to go
out: the fort can be defended for years together in case of a siege; to which he
retorts that a womans mind (pen putti) can never comprehend the logic of warfare,
and that he has to go out and fight anyway.
The Rani grows truly angry. She accuses him of having neglected her, ever
since their marriage. She has tasted no joy or happiness in these years; and now he
is going to battle, when he has no real need to do so. Since he is going to battle
against her wishes, she tells him that he can never win. If he gets frightened and
flees the battlefield, she warns, she will lock the doors of the fortress and not let
him in. She will mount cannon on the ramparts and fire at him. Dont be angry
with me, pleads Tecinkurajan. She now offers him the ceremonial areca nut and
betel leaf preparation (p5kku verrilai), and the Raja extends his hand through the
curtain to accept it. The Rani seizes his hand, looks at it, and bursts into tears,
seeing in it his impending bad fortune. What sins (pvam) has she committed to
deserve this, she wonders? Can it be that it is all ordained in the fate-lines placed
by Brahma on her own forehead (talai eluttu)? The Raja is astonished to find her
tears on his hand, but bidding her farewell, assures her he will return. He then
returns to meet his assembled soldiers.
to

41

unable at present to explain the importance of Friday )

vellikkilamai in the story. One
(
that has been proposed is to link it with the Muslim
jum at, but the implications of this
remain unclear.
am

explanation

103

He asks his famous Paracari horse to be readied and brought forth. But like the
horse Nilaveni earlier, this horse too displays signs of unease, and when he insists
on mounting it, looks at the ground, makes signs with its eyes, waves its tail and
otherwise signals displeasure. The Raja is upset. He has paid a heavy price for it,
he reminds the horse, and has expended large sums of money on its upkeep.42 He
has given it all possible comforts, now why does it let him down at the crucial
moment? Even if we die in battle; he tells the horse, we will quickly get moksha.
He now makes the horse a significant promise: at the place where it dies, there he
too will die (line 1859). The horse is content at this, and comes forward to be
saddled.
But Tecinkurajan cannot go to battle without first paying his respects to Sri
Ranganatha at his temple, where he makes elaborate offerings, and even promises
the god silver vessels if he returns successful from battle. He then awaits a sign
(cakunam) from the god. But once more, the omens are against him: the god appears
to weep, lamps and basil-leaf garlands fall to the ground, the pillar of Garuda
breaks in two, and the god himself turns away from him (lines 1910-15). And
once more, Tecinkurajan is filled with anger. Whats the matter with you, Lord?,
he asks Ranganatha irritably. Should he now show fear, and withdraw the foot that
he has already advanced?
The existential dilemma of Tecinkurajan appears more clearly in this brief
exchange with the god, perhaps, than anywhere else in the text, as he rails against
the signs that are offered. You wont die, and you wont survive, 0 Ranganatha,
he says (ni cakavum mi7tta pilaikkavum mci((y), and declares that he is off to
battle, no matter what. There is no need to kill me unjustly, he adds (ennai
aniyayamav kolla ventam); for when the battle is done, he will return to the Lords
feet (lines 1925-28). Here indeed is the essence of the dilemma. Tecinkurajan is
the favoured child of the god, who cannot be killed without casting aspersions on
the gods own powers to protect his own. Yet, in view of the omens, he cannot win.
The text must find a way around the conundrum.
Meanwhile, we are on to the battle, as the forces of Tecinkurajan advance on
the Nawabs camp. On hearing their approach from afar, the Nawabs troops begin
to flee, as from tigers (puli) they are reduced to mere cats (punai). The everresourceful Bangaru Nayakkan now addresses the Nawab and warns him of
Tecinkurajans approach, and the fact that their troops cannot resist him. The only
solution, he states, is to break two irrigation tanks (eri) at Talanur and Malaiyanur,
so that the Sankarabharani river will be flooded. This will discourage Tecinkurajan
from crossing over and approaching their camp for a while. The Nawab approves
this Machiavellian plan, and Bangaru Nayakkan rushes off to execute it. The
Nawabs forces range themselves, with Cupanki Turai (presumably the Maratha,
Subhanji) holding the first rank, and Tavuttukkaran (perhaps Daulat Khan), the
second.
42

an

The price paid, pannir

yiram (line 1,847) should be understood
ā
appropriate etymology for the horses name ri,
p
&r
c
amacr; which is

thousander.

as

12,000. which may thus give

&b
r
amacr; haz
ri, or twelveā

to say

104

Meanwhile, Tecinkurajan consults with hls,ial77aclirs, and prepares them for

battle. He warns them that he has no longer any divine strength (teyvapalam), and
that he is going to fight with the strength of his arm (enkaipalai77) alone. Moreover,
he tells them that if they are weaklings, used to feeding on milk, they had best
return to Senji; but if they are ready to taste blood, they may follow him. He
assures his jamadrs that even if they die in battle, moksha awaits them, andlike Movuttukkaran speaking earlier in the text to his mother-tells them that
death is hardly to be feared. This confabulation takes place at the riverbank just as
Bangaru Nayakkan floods the Sankarabharani. Tecinkurajan sees the waters rising,
is puzzled, and asks his uncle where the additional waters have come from. The
uncle, prudent as ever, tells him it must be the doing of Bangaru Nayakkan, and
advises him to turn back (lines 2005-10). Tecinkurajan naturally rejects this
cowardly talk, and leaps across the river with his wonderful horse. Some other
jamadars follow him, while still others turn back, daunted at the prospect. Only
30 horse remain, besides the men with Movuttukkaran.
Once across the river, Movuttukkaran addresses Tecinkurajan, and asks for the
privilege of going first into battle. He will single-handedly demolish the enemy,
he tells the Raja, who suggests instead that they go together. But Movuttukkaran
has no desire to share the glory of victory, and has his way. He advances into the
enemy ranks with his marvelous horse, Nilaveni, avoiding the cannon fire, and
wending his way through the gun-smoke (maruntu pukai). Thousands of horses
and men are slaughtered by him, as he fights against overwhelming odds. Heads
are broken, and brains splatter (mantai
tirantu mulai citarita) in an altogether
gory battle (line 2133). Several chieftains are defeated and killed in the process.
Finally, the 18 year-old Movuttukkaran is tired, wounded and drenched with
blood. He asks his horse to turn back, so that they can rejoin Tecinkurajan, and
Nilaveni joyfully agrees. But the warriors luck has run out, and on his return, he
is struck in the forehead (nerriyil) by a shot from a double-barrelled weapon
(irattaikkuntu) (lines 2228-30). Saying first Allare, Allare, and then Hari,
Govinda, Movuttukkaran falls to the ground, and goes directly to Vaikuntha. His
horse, disconsolate, weeps at the site. The Nawab, learning of his death, asks
Bangaru Nayakkan to seize the horse. But Nilaveni resists valiantly, and after
killing a large number of enemy, manages to return to Tecinkurajan.
We have now entered the last phase of the text, for, with Movuttukkarans death,
the fates have begun to close in. When Tecinkurajan sees Nilaveni riderless, he
cries out that his younger brother and playmate is dead, and that he has hence lost
half his strength (entan palamum pti poccutu) (line 2261 ). He finds Movuttukkarans body, and reproaches him for having abandoned his old playmate. The
Raja then goes on to dig a grave, gives 100,000 pqn in d3pam, and places Movuttukkarans body in the grave. The horse Nilaveni lies down with its master, showing
that it too wishes to depart; so, Tecinkurajan kills the horse, and buries it with
Movuttukkaran, telling his men to build a tomb (kori) at the spot.
Now, at last, Tecinkurajan himself is ready to enter battle. With his horse Paracari
prancing as if it were doing bhratan.tyam, he nears the Nawabs army, where

105

prepared by the opposing general Tavuttukkaran to cut him down.

Thirty thousand horse are ranged against him, as Tecinkurajan enters battle, calling
on the ikqyaviji, on Bhumi Devi, on the Sun and the Moon, and on Ranganatha
as his witnesses (c5tci), and with the words Ramuramure Deva on his lips. His
other jamadars too follow him. Thirty thousand guns (tuppkki) blaze away, but
cannon are

he and his horse nimbly avoid them, so that their shot falls on the Nawabs own
camp. Like cutting down banana stalks (vajaitaf}{u), he cuts down the enemy ranks

(line 2342).

Tecinkurajan eventually confronts the enemy general, Tavuttukkaran, who is

seated atop an elephant. As they come within striking distance, the horse Paracari
places its forelegs on the elephants head, and the mahout is struck down. Tavuttukkaran pleads for his life, saying that he will flee the field, but Tecinkurajan, realising
that he is a particularly close friend of the Nawab, calls out Narayana, Govinda,
and strikes him dead (line 2390). When this news reaches the Nawab, he fears for
his own life, and thinks of hiding. Tecinkurajan meanwhile continues on his
rampage, killing 2,000 elephants and 50,000 foot-soldiers. Finally, finding all his
adversaries have fled, he thinks of returning to Senji with only five horse. He
arrives at the Sankarabharani, dismounts at the rivers edge, and jumps in to his
knees. Drinking three handfuls of water, he sits down under the shade of a tree
(line 2418).
At this point, his kinsman, Tancinku (who has already played a similar role
earlier) arrives on a lone horse, and asks him why he has left the battlefield. The
Nawab is dead, Tecinkurajan tells him, and there is no one left to fight. The one
who died was Tavuttukkaran and not the Nawab, he is told, for the Nawab is still
in hiding nearby. On hearing this, the Raja calls for his horse once more, to resume
battle. But Sri Ranganatha appears and bars his way. Enough fighting for today, he
says to the Raja, whom he addresses as his child (kulantai); tomorrow you can
finish the affair off. Tecinkurajan flatly refuses, telling the god that he has already
abandoned his devotee, who has hence been forced to fight with only half his

usual

strength. Now, he will

meaning to him any more.

not let

things

go to the next

day, for death has

no

The Nawab, meanwhile, has decided to sue for peace, and he sends Tonra Mallan
with a message for the Raja. This hypocrite, with his usual namam and three horse,
arrives to parley, and offers terms: the Nawab will concede a certain territory to
the Raja, and offer ample compensation for losses suffered. But Tecinkurajan finds
this shameful and unacceptable; after all, the Nawabs close friend Tavuttukkaran
has been killed, as has his own childhood friend Movuttukkaran. Now there must
be a fight to the finish. He thus attacks Venkatarayar, whom the Nawab sends out
on an elephant. Once more heads roll, as the battle begins in earnest, and
Venkatarayar is soon reduced to dire straits. But he shows his sacred thread (pnl)
to the Raja, and states that he is a Brahmin; Tecinkurajan is thus obliged to let him
go, since he cannot commit such an impious act as to kill a Brahmin (lines 2493-

95).

106

Finally, the fight with the Nawab himself begins, and Saidulla once more broaches
the issue of peace, saying that he has no real desire to fight. But for Tecinku,
matters have gone too far, and he reminds the Nawab of the source of their dispute,
as well as the death of their respective friends. As they close in, the horse Paracari
places its forelegs on the head of the Nawabs elephant; the mahout peers down in
fear (lines 2528-29). Then, all of a sudden, he cuts the horses right leg, and it
falls down, but recovers and continues to fight. Once more it attempts to place its
remaining foreleg on the elephants head, and this time the mahout slashes at the
other leg. The horse falls to the ground, and Tecinkurajan leaps off. Seeing the
horses state, and its loss of two legs, he is obliged to kill it there and then (line

2544).
Seized

blinding fury at the death of Paracari, Tecinkurajan goes on a

rampage, destroying everything before him. He attacks the Nawabs camp and
demolishes its vestiges, then attacks the Nawab too and forces him to flee. At
now

with

the battlefield with no one to oppose him. There is no one left

take my life, he says, but how can I go back now to Senji? Quick, send
your cakram, he tells Sri Ranganatha, for there is no justice (niyayam) in my
remaining alive. After all, the death of Movuttukkaran, and the promise he has
made to his own horse, Paracari, weigh heavily on him. Lacking an adversary, he
finally throws his sword in the air, and it pierces his breast, as he cries out, Sri
Krishna Rama, Sri Ranga. Tecinkurajan dies by his own hand, a feminine death,
and the Nawab, arriving too late, takes his lifeless body on his lap. He weeps at
Tecinkurajans bravery and invincibility, calling himself a sinner (pavi nan) for
having provoked the tragedy. He lists the thousands of horses, men and elephants
that Tecinkurajan has destroyed, and eventually calls Bangaru Nayakkan to his
side, for him to bury the horse Paracari in a suitably splendid tomb, while distributing alms.
It remains to take the Rajas body back to Senji, and Tonra Mallan is entrusted
with this task. Meanwhile, the Rani Ammal has been watching anxiously from the
ramparts of the fort. She asks Tonra Mallan if Tecinkurajan is wounded in the
breast or in the back. If the first, his body can enter, if the latter it must go back, for
it would suggest he was killed while fleeing (lines 2609-10). The wound is in the
breast, says Tonra Mallan, and the body is brought in. The Rani Ammal comes
down to see it and bursts into tears; the townsfolk of Senj i gather there too when
they hear her. You ignored my advice, she tells Tecinkurajan, for your fate was
already written in that way (lines 2623-24).
A fire-pit (akkini kuli) is now dug, and sandalwood and vermilion gathered for
the pyre. The Rani bathes, prepares herself, puts flowers in her hair, and arrives
praying to Ranganatha, Bhumi Devi, and to the kyav1Ji. Having circumambulated the fire-pit where her husbands corpse is burning, she leaps in. The Pushpaka
Vimana, chariot of Vishnu, arrives from heaven at that moment, and the Raja and
Rani are taken to Vaikuntha, where they attain the lotus-feet of Sri Ranganatha. It
only remains for the teller of the tale to take leave from his audience, remembering
the gods, minor divinities, sages, the guardians of the directions, and so on.

last, he is left

here

to

on

107

Vaishnavism and Islam: The Tulukkan and the

Temple

Our bald summary has done scant justice to the text, which is particularly remarkeable for its very lively evocation of battle and contest through its quite particular
rhythmic structure and repetitive use of formulaic phrases. As remarked throughout,
in its character the Katai is essentially a Vaishnava devotional text, and both the
first contest (around the horse), and the second (around Senj is revenues) are largely
about the relationship of the devotee, Tecinkurajan, with Sri Ranganatha. In the
first of these, the devotee has the gods blessings before the contest, and it is
through Ranganathas direct intervention that the horse is eventually subjugated.
In the last, on account of hubris, Tecinkurajan challenges the god, and decides to
test his own strength (en kai palam) against that of the god, when all the omens are
against him. Yet, since he is such a loyal devotee, his defeat by the Muslims is not
acceptable, and he must eventually die by his own hand (rather like Sarvayi Papadu
in the Telugu legend).
Another text, as yet unpublished, the Tecirikurajan Ammdnai, offers a rather
different, in part seemingly more realistic reading, in at least one version. Here,
the Raja is shot down in battle by the Nawabs men (tuppakkik kuntllai
konnarkal racvai) rather than commit ritual suicide, and is killed with the words
Siva, Siva on his lips. The explicit Saivite flavour continues through the text.
Indeed, later, when his body is brought back to the fort, and his wife leaps into the
fire-pit (t7kkuli), it is notable that she and the Raja are said to have reached Kailasam,
and the feet of Siva (Civ!lptam), not those of Vishnu.4 We may note though that
the amm3pai is a minor, and somewhat obscure text, which does not enjoy the
wide circulation that the Katai has had.
Returning to the Katai, we may begin by stating the obvious: the evocation
there is in the first place not of Hindu identity per se, but rather of a particular
sectarian, Vaishnava,-identity. The status of Tecinkurajan himself is rather curious,
for if at times he is very nearly identified as an offspring of the god, at other times
he is assimilated to the notion of the stubborn devotee, in the classical mould of
Prahlada and Dhruva. Opposed to the Raja, who is explicitly described in the text
as a vishnubhakta, are ranged sceptics like his uncle (who asks him why he is
constantly conductingpzija), hypocrites like Tonra Mallan who wear a false namam
made of the most impure materials (spittle and blood), and finally, at the very
extreme of the spectrum, the Nawab and the tulukkan army. Now this word
Tulukkan, the Tamil variant of Turk (and of the Sanskrit Turushka), is used even
today to designate Muslims in a generic, and derogatory fashion; it would, of
course, never be used by the Muslims of Tamilnadu, be they of northern origin, or
the southern Labbais, and Maraikkayars to describe themselves. The only other
term used in the text, Labbai, is also used derogatorily: Tecinkurajan describes the
...

43
M. Arunachalam, Ballad Poetry (Peeps into Tamil Literature-I), Tiruchitrambalam, 1976, pp.
142-43, 224-25;for the original, see Government Oriental Manuscripts Library, Madras, R. 1,513, p.

18.

108

fish-vendor Labbai bov. who does not have the social status to collect
from one such as him.44
Is the text, then, primarily about a religious war between Vaishnavism and Islam,
as we may infer when Tecinkurajan rises from his conventional puja to announce
that he will back Tulukkans by way of puja? We have already noted that on setting
out to battle, the Nawab cries out allah, Allahu, while Tecinkurajan constantly
has the name of Narayana and Govinda on his lips. But the text also offers a
somewhat more nuanced view of matters in this respect, in terms of the composition
of the Nawabs entourage, wherein most of the pdlaiyappattu are Telugu chieftains,
including even Brahmins like Venkatarayar. Further, it is interesting that the rather
negatively portrayed Tonra Mallan is, in the final analysis, a Vaishnava, and prays
to Sri Ranganatha in his hour of need.
By all accounts, a piece of particular significance in the puzzle is the personage
of Movuttukkaran, based clearly on the historical figure of the qiladdr of Valudavur
near Pondicherry, Mahabat Khan. There is a natural tendency amongst modernday writers to see in his pairing with Tecinkurajan since childhood, and equally in
the implicit pairing of Nilaveni with the Paracari horse, a genuflection in the
direction of communal harmony. As one writer has put it, This story can well
serve as a beacon light to the Hindus and Muslims who fly at each others throat at
the slightest provocation.45 And yet, harmony at what cost? It is clear from
Nawab

as a

revenue

Movuttukkarans incomplete marriage ceremony, where the name of Allah is taken

with that of Rama, that even if he is a Muslim, he is one with a distinct Vaishnava
colouring. It is significant that at the moment of his death, he cries out Allare,
Allare, but then, on uttering the name of Hari thereafter, goes to Vaikuntha. It is
clear that in the world of the text, Vaishnavism is a universal and encompassing
system, and Islam a subordinate one; the Muslim warrior who practices the warrior
ethics that are acceptable to Vaishnavas is thus permitted access, not to Jannat
(which does not exist in the texts cosmology) but to Vaikuntha. Rather than
coexistence in parallel terms, what is hence proposed is a hierarchical relationship
between.different forms of religious practice. In the final analysis, the recognition
by Saidulla (at the end of the text) of Tecinkurajans greatness signals this
relationship of subordination. Elsewhere, Hiltebeitel has already remarked this
fact in the relationship of the Muslim warrior, Muttal Ravuttan, to Draupadi in the
materials concerning the goddesss cult in the Senji region examined by him.46
The text can, as we have suggested, be read as two halves. The second half,
centring on the revenue dispute, is at times very close to the Marathi texts that we
have surveyed, to the point of reproducing even the same relatively minor incidents;
and indeed, it is not all that distant thematically from the world of Senji Narayanan
despite certain obvious differences of tone and emphasis. But it is in the first part
44

Compare the similar insults hurled at Muhammad Ali Walajah by YusufKhan in. the n
ā
C
ā kipu
K
Cantai, cited in Susan Bayly, Saints, Goddesses and Kings, p. 215.
45
Arunachalam, Ballad Poetry, p. 141.
46
Alf Hiltebeitel, The Cult of Draupadi, I: Mythologies: From Gingee to Kuruksetra, Chicago,
1988, pp. 101-2.

109

of the text, wherein the contest for the horse takes place, that the divergences
emerge. Here, an inexorable Vaishnava )logic is established, even ifthe agent behind
the contest is the Muslim Kongufaqir. who takes the horse to Delhi. It is also here
that the curious relationship. part antagonistic but largely supportive, between
Senji and Delhi is put in place. The text does not wish to concede explicitly that
the Delhi Padshah is Muslim; rather, its view of Delhi is of a town full ofgopurams
and temples, where typical employees of the ruler have names like Rajalinga Babu,
Pappaiya and Cinnaiya. This stuck in the craw of at least one early-twentieth century
commentator (himself a Srivaishnava), who wrote: The poem makes little distinction in the manners of different nationalities and the Mogul emperor is credited
with having dealt with the magical horse very much like what a Hindu emperor
would have done... .47 Indeed, even if the Delhi ruler is the source of a challenge
that enslaves the chieftains of the south, he is quick to recognise Tecinkurajans
merits, and even offers him his daughter Rani Ammal in marriage, thus cementing,
in effective terms, the idea of the political legitimacy of Tecinkurajan.
Can the father of this Vaishnava daughter, who prays to Ranganatha with as
much fervour as Tecinkurajan, be Muslim? Our sense is that the Tamil text, while
skirting over precisely this point, wishes in any case to centre its characterisation
of Islam in the figures ofNawab Saidulla and Movuttukkaran. (We should mention
in passing here that a Telugu version of the text resolves the matter quite differently.)
The Delhi rulers role is that of a distant arbiter, who is the unwitting source of the
revenue dispute, which is set off (it might be recalled) by the verification of his
accounts by Rajalinga Babu. The core of the conflict is, however, not between
Senji and Delhi, or even between Vaishnavas and Muslims; it is between the devotee
and the god, in a reworking of a central theme from the medieval tradition. As
Tecinkurajan tells Sri Ranganatha before setting out for battle, he cannot win in
view ofthe omens and his karmic momentum, but he cannot lose either, in view of
his unsullied reputation as devotee. The resolution to this conflict, fought out in
the battlefield, is to make life unliveable for Tecinkurajan, to the point that he is
obliged to sacrifice himself, whether to keep his word to his horse, or as a deft
compromise between the pulls of his assertive will and divine order.

Epilogue:

On Communal

Readings

Our point of departure in this essay was a seemingly trivial event, the defeat and
death of Tej Singh in October 1714, which turns out to have been pregnant with
possibilities. From it, a series of legends of a local and regional character were
bom concerning Desinguraja (or Tecinkurajan), a transformed version of Tej Singh
Bundela.48 Historians and anthropologists working on Senji in this century have
47

P.R. Krishnaswami, The Ballad of Jinji. Madras, n.d., p. 3, first published in the Madras Mail
Annual (1923). I am grateful to Dr. Bharat Ramaswami for providing me with this text.
48
I am very much mindful, of course, of the comparative possibilities between the present exercise
and that of Richards and Narayana Rao, Banditry in Mughal India. However, they must regretfully
be left to another occasion.

110

been mindful of these legends; thus, the Spanish Jesuit historian H. Heras, who
visited Senji in 1924 noted that until 1916, there was resident in the village of
Melacceri (the Little Gingee of Colonel Lawrences 1752 account) the last of a
male line of Bundelas, still claiming descent from Sarup Singh and Tej Sinch.&dquo;
Converted to Catholicism in 1896 (when aged 45 years), the last Bundela prince.,
who rejoiced in the name of Surabanadan Singh, had mortgaged a part of his
ancestral property in Mefacceri to the Church, out of poverty. In the 1940s, there
appeared a history of Senji, by C.S. Srinivasachari, and here too, the episode of
Tej Singh received fair mention over several pages, based on Senji Narayanans
text, and some English Company papers of the early eighteenth century.so
But by far the most sophisticated reading brought to bear, to date, on Tej Singhs
failed bag_3wat has been that ofthe anthropologist and mythologist Alf Hiltebeitell
in his work on the cult of Draupadi both in Senji (for which he prefers the Anglicised
form Gingee), and elsewhere. Hiltebeitel argues, basing himself ostensibly on
Senji Narayanan Pillais text, that Senjis pre-colonial history can largely be
encapsulated in terms of three main moments: first, the founding of Senji under
the Kon rulers, allegedly in the late twelfth century; second, the creation of the

Nayaka

state

of

Senji by Tuppakki Krishnappa Nayaka (A.D. 1509-1521); and

third, the rebellion of Tej Singh.5 Now, it is curious that of these three moments,
only the third can be said to have any historical basis in contemporary evidence,
rather than merely in later retrospective materials such as Senji Narayanans
narrative. The construct of the rule of the Kon dynasty, of course, suited Senji
Narayanan very well, since he claimed descent from them. As for the second
moment, that of Tuppakki Krishnappa, inscriptional evidence does not support
the view that he was the probable founder of the Senji state in the early sixteenth
century, as posited by Hiltebeitel; rather, contemporary texts place him in the middle
years of the seventeenth century, at the very end of the Nayaka dynastys rule. 12
From Hiltebeitels perspective as a mythologist, however, this may not be where
the primary concern lies in any case. Rather, he is interested in the consistent

49
Henry Heras, The City ofJinji at the end ofthe sixteenth century, The Indian Antiquary, Vol. 55,
1926, pp. 41-43. Also see, in this context, the bilingual magazine Pontil/Bondil, which styles itself
the Organ of the Rajput Bondil Association (Tamil Nadu). In this magazine (Vol. 7(1), 1988), the
State President of the association, Mr. B. Govind Singh, describes the community in a letter to the
Prime Minister of India as descendants of Raja Desingh. I am grateful to Dr. Isabelle Nabokov for a
copy of parts of this magazine.
50
C.S. Srinivasachari, A History of Gingee and Its Rulers, Annamalainagar, 1943.
51
Alf Hiltebeitel, The Cult of Draupadi, I, pp. 18-20; Appendix 2, pp. 450-53. This useful work
should be read with caution where its analysis of historical events is concerned; to begin with, most
pre-colonial events cited in it are even dated inaccurately. Also, see Hiltebeitel, The Cult of Draupadi,
3

(Chicago, forthcoming), which returns to some of these themes.

52
For the inscriptional record, see Noboru Karashima, Towards

a New Formation: South India

under Vijayanagar Rule, Delhi, 1992, pp. 15-63. This suggests that the first Nayaka figure at Senji
was Vaiyappa (mentioned from 1532 to 1547), then his brother Surappa (1547-1567), then Vaiyappas
son Krishnappa (c. 1572), followed by his son Kondama (1582 to 1596), succeeded in turn by his son
Muttu Krishnappa, who probably ruled from about 1597 to 1624.

111
contrast between the characterisation of the first two of these moments

(and the

they encapsulate), and the third. The moment of the Kon dynasty (and
even earlier, Cunita Maharaja, the swing figure who ties the Kons with their
ancestors, the Pandavas), as well as that of Tuppakki Krishnappa are seen as
representing fabulous beginnings; the 1714 episode on the other hand stands
for a sad and desperate time as the setting for a regional heroic age in which for
one brief moment the Hindu values of the Gingee country found their full
crystallization. 53 How much of this is the voice of the native informant, and how
much that of the scholar is difficult to say. Note the implicit assumption that the
expansion of Mughal armies (and thus, Islam) into southern India is a tragic process,
calling for a reaction on the part of Islams Other, which is to say Hindu values.
This is not wholly unlike a rather more naive, Tamil nationalist, reading of the
episode, from the pen of a modem Tamil scholar, pointing to the often unwitting
complicity between neutral western social science, and forms of South Asian
eras

that

communalism:

Desingu lived and died in the Tamil country. To him the moghul at Delhi was
foreigner and he fought to throw away this foreign yoke. The modern mind
recognizes a foreigner only in the European and hence probably Desingu has
not been glorified as a freedom fighter. But yet he lives in popular memory,
through the widely prevalent ballad, as none of the other fighters have ever
...

a
_

lived or will

ever

live. 14

Now, it is easy enough to demonstrate that the death in battle of Tej Singh in
October 1714 was not caused primarily by religious differences, but it did indeed
have a certain effects on local religious politics. The short-term effects are most
clearly to be seen in the nearby French port of Pondicherry, which notionally was
part of the administrative territory of Senji. We may consider, for example, the
following extract from the deliberations of the Council of the French Company at
Pondicherry, dated 4 February 1715:

touching now on the points that concern Religion, [it was decided] ... at the
death of the Raja of Gingy, defender of the Gentiles, that therefore these Peoples
should be forbidden from conducting any of their ceremonies in their pagodas
at Pondicherry on the days of solemn [Christian] festivals, and not even those
for their marriages, burials (sic), and for the new moon, on Sundays
...

What was at issue was a decree of the Superior Council to the effect that Gentile
ceremonies were to be forbidden in Pondicherry on the days of Christian feasts or
even on Sundays, a decree that had already been
approved by the Crown in February
53

Hiltebeitel, The Cult of Dratrpadi.

54

Arunachalam, Ballad Poetry, p. 142.

55

AN, Archives du Ministère des Colonies, Correspondance Générale, C

70, Extrait du registre des
2

deliberations du Conseil, fol. 4r.

pp. 99-100.

112

1711. However, the French Company had not dared apply this law until the deaths
and then Tej Singh, fearing an adverse reaction from Senji. An
adverse reaction did indeed follow, but from the caste headmen resident in
Pondicherry itself, when the Governor Du Livier forbade the celebration of Poilkal
in 1715. Further, as Jesuit influence grew, and a belated Counter-Reformationinflected set of strictures were passed on the Gentiles, the exodus of merchants
from Pondicherry to other Coromandel ports began as well.56
It is evident even from the brief extract that we have cited above (as well as
from the other earlier letters), that many in the French Company saw conflicts of
the sort we have described in primarily religious terms. To them, the Gentile
Rajas of Senji were defenders of their own faith, and hence the conflict between
them and Arcot could be described as the Moors making war on the Gentiles.
Despite paying a good deal of attention to the issue of caste already in the early
eighteenth century, their world-view had divided India into three fundamental
categories, Christian, Moor and Gentile, and it is the last (passing from the
Portuguese gentio to the English Gentoo), which has in part been bequeathed to
us in the form of the encompassing notion ofHindu.
It is nevertheless not our intention to argue here that the notion of a Hindu
identity in pre-colonial India was a purely European invention. For one, Arabic
and Persian texts, which first used the term Hindu or Hindi to designate the

of Sarup Singh,

inhabitants of Hind considerably precede the European materials; further, in

Persian materials, it is not uncommon to refer to the religion of the Hindus (keshi Hindlj, as a self-explanatory category. But categories like these can remain
empty boxes, if social groups are unwilling to fill them. In part, the definition of a
Hindu self-identity was the consequence precisely of the filling out of the
intersection of these two vectors of external definition (Perso-Arabic, and
European) by regional political elites in late pre-colonial India with their own
agenda, namely an explicit allegiance to Brahmanical religion, who could thus
conceive of Hindu as a pan-Indian category, with a set of canonical texts, and
associated comportments. Amongst the earliest to assert such a sense of Hinduness, explicitly opposed to Islam, were the Brahmins and Brahminised ideologues
of the Marathas from the late seventeenth century onwards, whose influence is
discernible even in some of the kaifiyats we have briefly surveyed, that speak of
Tej Singh Bundela as if he were a Hindu fighting Islam.
Yet the folk epic, as we have seen in some detail, resisted assimilation into this
world-view, even into the nineteenth century, ostensibly the period when
communitarian ideologies came increasingly to be fixed. Its singers (and perhaps
its audience) preferred to anchor themselves in a sense of locality, and of identities
(including collectingjdti identities) that were heavily marked by a sense of place,
and configured within a local sacred geography, even if this necessitated the
56
AN, Archives du Ministère des Colonies, Correspondance Générale, C
70, fols. 86-89, letters
2
from M. Cuperty at Pondicherry to M. Hardancourt, August 1716. For a brief discussion of this breach
of Mamoul (or customary law), see Jacques Weber, Les Etablissements français en Inde au XIXe
siècle, 1816-1914, Paris, 1988, 5 vols., Vol. I, pp. 1-2.

113

transformation of outsiders like the Bundelas into insiders. The struggle,

according to the Katai, was not one between Delhi and Senji; it was between Arcot
and Senji: thus, between two local centres of power. And its resolution was not the
defeat of the Raja, but his escape into a transcendent sphere, by an act of selfinflicted violence, itself the culmination of a series of such acts of uncontrollable
primal violence. This process of creating a geographical and human boundary for
the tensions in the text would eventually be reinterpreted in quite another way by
the Tamil film industry, in its own version of the Des1gurja Katai, starring M.G.
Ramachandran, in the 960s.~ Here, the violence would become entirely a family
affair, between Desinguraja (played by M.G.R.), and his estranged identical twin,
brought up in a Muslim household, Daud Khan (equally played by M.G.R.), who
are eventually united in death on the battlefield. The story could become the vehicle
for a saccharine message of Hindu-Muslim unity, quite appropriate to the D.M.K.s
ideology of the time; and the god, Ranganatha, would inevitably be given short
shrift, in view of the agnostic (if not atheistic) bent of major ideologues of that
political party in those years. The incomprehensible violence of 1714, which so
intrigued the contemporary French and Jaswant Rai, which later rather irritated
Senji Narayanan, and which was elevated to a cosmic gesture by the folk epic,
would be reduced to a stock tragic story of separated siblings, eventually united in
death across the communal divide...

It would appear that the script-writers for this film drew in part on an earlier account in Te.
Kirushnacamippavalar, Tecinku ja
ā Cennai, 1917. In a future work,I hope to comment more
R
,
n
extensively on this film, and on other relatively modern works such as Tiruvannamalai
Virapattiraiyarvarkal, Tecinkur
jan takam,
ā
ā ed. Cuppiramanniyacuvami,Cennai. 1881.
n
57