By Sunil Kumar
When I went to Hampi for the first time, I was blown away by the exquisite architecture and the ruins that stood testimony to one of the finest examples of Sanatana cultural resurgence in the south in the age of wrath or in plainer words the barbarian hordes of Mahound. Anybody with a passing interest in history knows about the battle of Talikota in 1565 that left the splendid Vijayanagara empire in ruins. Hakka, Bukka, Vidyaranya are part of local folkore.
Many moons ago, whenever Rushdie visited the place, he was also I believe probably fascinated and awestruck. But, leave it to the purveyors of puerile literary fantasia to contrive a contorted saga that grinds every hallowed Indic cultural belief to the ground in the sophisticated West-feted attempt at native rewriting of history. To my eternal consternation and amusement, many Indian newspapers are servile sepoys and acclaim this as a ‘feminist’ retake or the endorsement of the Ganga-Jamuni ‘bakbeeb’. To his credit, Rushdie seems to have read many sources and ancient Indian narratives including the Puranas, the Upanishads, the Panchatantra, the epics all morphed and mutilated beyond belief. Having already tasted the wrath of mocking his native Abrahamic faith, Hindu beliefs are always easy picking due to apathy, ignorance or plain indifference.
‘Madhura Vijayam’ by the Sanskrit poetess Gangadevi, a heroic paean is distorted by this writer to an imaginary ‘JayaParajayam’. Krishnadevaraya is a crass caricature. Although he seems to be aware of the deeper mystical significance of the ‘Rasa Lila’, Rushdie uses profound philosophical ideas in a pedestrian, titillating fashion. South India owes a profound debt to the Vijayanagara kingdom in multiple ways- preserving culture, dance, the evolution of music and much more.
Pining for Padma Lakshmi perhaps, Rushdie seems to have created the character of Pampa Kampana who seems to be a mix of The Wicked Witch of the West, Game of Thrones and a few Indian movies. Blessed by the goddess Parvati to live a long life, Pampa is a coquettish, flirtatious, promiscuous grand femme more reminiscent of contemporary times than any Puranic fable.
Magic realism a la Rushdie is jaded and has already reached an expiry date. Pampa Kampana seems to like to make love to the Portuguese travellers to India- another case where imaginary history conflated with debauchery something of a Rushdie staple comes to life. Kung-fu and Chinese sagas seem to have inspired an Oriental lover for her daughter.
Some passages which I liked were allusions to the epics and historical facts mentioned correctly- the tussle with the Gajapatis of Kalinga for example. But, in a historical hack job so typical of authors who pretend to be ‘atheists’ he has not even mentioned how the last Vijayanagara Raya was betrayed by a Islamic faction in his own army that obviously chose to side with their co-religionists in the final battle and how the ‘Victory City’- one of the wonders of the world burnt for six months- another stupendous cultural loss inflicted by barbarian hordes who are exonerated for their heinous crimes time and again. Passable, pretentious tripe.
