Mushtanda the wrestler came to Shaktinagar, the capital city. Rupashakti was a prosperous kingdom, well known for its patronage of the performance arts. In particular, the capital city Shaktinagar was renowned as a cultural hub, where performers from far and wide would show their dancing talent in a week long annual event that had gained fame across the land.
King Chandradeep also encouraged physical activities, and in particular loved the sport of wrestling. His akhadas had some of the best known wrestlers of the time.
During such a wrestling tourney, the king was thrown a challenge from Mushtanda, a famous wrestler from the Kushana city of Kapisa. Mushtanda’s reputation as a wrestler had preceded him. He was known to be a skilled warrior, who would usually crush his opponents to the ground. He was fair with glistening skin and a completely round, bald head. Although he was quite short, his massive chest was built like a barrel. It would have been impossible to put arms around him and make the fingers meet. His arms were like stout limbs, dense with muscle. The legs were stubby and fat with a prominent groin (rumour was that he had the longest and thickest penis in the land).
Mushtanda said “O king, the wrestlers in Shaktinagar are like children. They smile at their opponents. They hug like cuddling lovers, and wrap their legs as if in the throes of passion, not battle. Were I to face such wrestlers, I would not fight them, but would thrust my thick pole into their soft arses.” He roared with laughter.
“In my country, we train our might against elephants. I have thrown down many a bull elephant by grabbing its tusk. Even our children are taught to tame bulls and horses. Even our women would not find these wrestlers much of a challenge.” Thrusting his arms up in a double bicep pose, he said: “O King, your hospitality is legendary in the world. Would you not have a real man wrestler in your ENTIRE kingdom? Anyone who could make me sweat and grunt? Or shall I have to see your famous dancers and be content with screwing a few of them?”
Hearing such insulting words, many courtiers at the tourney took out their swords in anger. But King Chandradeep put his hand up. With self-control, he said: “Mushtanda, you throw a challenge not only at my wrestlers, but also upon our nation. I will definitely satiate your desire. You will face the best of our wrestlers, and perhaps you will sweat and grunt, and maybe cry out in pain.”
“You will fight, one by one, our three best wrestlers. The fight will be on our terms, as per our rules. We do not allow any striking. Wrestlers may not use their nails or teeth as weapons. No blows to the groin either. We do not allow killing in our akhadas. You shall be allowed one fight in a day. In case you defeat our wrestlers, you will be allowed to take away anything that you can carry on your self from this kingdom.”
Mushtanda smiled and bowed “Thank you O King, I shall abide by these rules. However, what worries me is: Should I carry jewels, or should I carry one of your famous dancers with me?” “Ahaahaahaahaa…” he broke into loud laughter.
As the sun set that day, oil lamps lit up the dance stage. Dancers, both solo and in troupes, presented their skill to an adoring audience that was left spellbound. The highlight of the evening was a sensual performance by Kamsakanya. Very tall, taller than most men, she had exquisite features and a strong and supple body that moved with feline grace. Her skin was dark and shone like bronze. Mushtanda was seen to lick his lips and rub his erect cock at her sight.
Vidurvidya, his minister, spoke to him later: “Your grace, Mushtanda is known to be the most powerful wrestler in the land. He is strong and crafty, and is not known to stick to rules of fair play. It is possible that he may win.” “Vidur, I have granted him his wish, yet I have faith in my wrestlers. He shall go up against Veera, Laksmana and Hari.”
Vidurvidya bowed to his king and left. The three wrestlers named by the king were good, especially the young and good looking Hari. However, he couldn’t dismiss grave predictions that came to his mind about the bouts as they would unfold.
The next morning saw Mushtanda square off against Veera. A cheering partisan crowd egged on Veera. The two wrestlers circled each other, looking for openings. The former had a smile on his face, the latter a grim and determined expression. Veera lunged first. Twisting expertly, he locked his arms around Mushtanda’s neck. Straining and tugging, he brought his head down to waist level. Suddenly, Mushtanda gripped Veera’s leg and picked him up. Turning his body around, he broke the grip on his neck and had Veera in a grip across the chest. Mushtanda squeezed hard. Veera tried to pry out of his grip, but it was as being held by a python. Slowly, inevitably, Veera began to asphyxiate, as Mushtanda squeezed his lungs. After a while, he was hanging in his arms like a limp doll. Mushtanda shook him once, twice, and then threw his body.
The silenced crowd uttered a shock, as Veera was flung out of the ring to land amongst them. A few guards came up to carry the inert body out of the complex.
Mushtanda faced the king, smiled and wiped a finger across his shining bald pate. “No. not a drop of sweat. Ahaahaahaahaa”. Chandradeep got up to applaud the wrestler, as was the norm, and made his way out.
The next day, it was the fleet footed Laksmana, who faced Mushtanda. Unlike Veera, Laksmana was a laughing, exaggerating bundle of energy. A non-serious looking wrestler to the audience, but those who trained with him knew his skill.
Laksmana went for Mushtanda’s legs and dropped him to the soft sand of the Akhada. Planting himself on his back, he tried to twist the latter’s arm around. After a long struggle, Mushtanda managed to throw him off and forced him into a battle of the upper body.
This was a battle that only Mushtanda could have won, for his girth and power was far more. The skilful and gutsy Laksmana fought until fatigue overcame him. Mushtanda turned him around and twisted his arm so much that his shoulder dislocated with a pop. The king had to shout his name to force him to disengage.
Bowing before the king, he wiped his brow and said “In our land, the women make us sweat more….Ahaahaahaahaahaa”.
In a simple hut with a bed and a basket of scant belongings, Hari lay with his lover, Kamsakanya. They had made long, tender love, and now the beautiful dancer was on her side, running her fingers down his muscled chest. “I’m worried, Hari. Mushtanda seems to be quite strong and ruthless. You need to attack his legs and stay out of reach of those arms.” “Worry not, my lovely bronze lady, I have studied his technique, and my guru also tells me that his upper body is disproportionately strong, making his legs the weak spot. I know how to tackle him. Don’t worry, you know I’m strong in my shoulders, and my legs are stronger than his.” “All the same, I’m worried, darling”. Laughing, he said “Come wrestle with me tonight, wrap your strong legs around me, and leave me breathless”. “No more dear, I can’t leave you breathless, especially since your most important fight is tomorrow.”
The akhada was filled to bursting capacity. The crowd had come with flags that were the battle standard of Rupashakti. As the two oiled, muscular wrestlers faced off, Mushtanda said “Now this one is pretty. Perhaps after breaking him, I shall fuck his arse… Ahaahaahaa” His mirth only inflamed the crowd, but Hari was impassive. The handsome wrestler bowed to the king. The gong sounded and the match had begun.
Mushtanda charged at Hari, but the lithe wrestler avoided him easily. He managed to break off the clutches and holds the former tried. Soon, it was evident that these wrestlers were evenly matched. Hari used his strong legs to good effect. Mushtanda was struggling to avoid the leg clamps that Hari put on him. With patience and technique, he was tiring out the barrel chested wrestler and making him grunt in pain and frustration. The crowd sensed victory and screamed for Hari to finish him off.
Suddenly, Mushtanda twisted and bit Hari’s arm. Surprised, the latter broke his hold and fell back clutching the wound. Mushtanda took advantage and jumped on him. He landed with his elbow on the ribs. A sickening crack was heard, and Hari spouted blood from the mouth. Mushtanda quickly grabbed his ankle and twisted it until the ligaments tore. Hari screamed in rage, but couldn’t get up as his chest was severely damaged. Mushtanda then put him in a choke hold and Hari passed out.
It took seven soldiers to pry out Hari from Mushtanda’s grip. As the broken wrestler was being carried out, Mushtanda, made a double bicep pose and stood grinning and panting in front of the king. Hari’s blood splattered his face and chest. “All I can carry! All I can carry! Ahaahaahaahaa…”
Dark with rage, Vidurvidya thundered: “Mushtanda, you disgraced the sport of wrestling today. You bit our wrestler and you hit him on the chest, both acts that are not legal”.
Mushtanda smiled and bowed to the King: “O King, but I didn’t break any rules. Your wrestler twisted my face and his arm got into my mouth. I leapt onto him, not to hit him, but to put a lock on his chest. It was an accident, and these things happen in the ring.”
“I win the tournament. Although if you doubt, I challenge anyone in your kingdom, O King, to fight me tomorrow. If I lose, I will give up wrestling forever.”
The king got up and said: “Is there anyone who wants to challenge Mushtanda? You may put your nominations on taala-patra and put it in the bronze message urn outside the palace”. Disgusted, but bound by norms of hospitality and fair play, the king walked out of the akhada.
The next morning, Vidurvidya told the king: “Your grace, of the nominations, there seems to be none but one taala-patra in the urn.” “Whose name is it?” “Your grace…. It is…ah…Kamsakanya” “What?!? How can she fight? I mean she isn’t a wrestler!” “Your grace, she can. When you announced the nomination process, you didn’t say if it was for a wrestler to participate – you left it open. By law, we must allow the person to fight.”
And so it was, with Kamsakanya facing off against Mushtanda.
Mushtanda was surprised, but eager. The tall dark dancer with a bronze like body had fired his loins. “If she has the spirit, at least, I will enjoy raping her in front of everybody. I will put my long pole into her wet hole and make her scream my name.” He announced loudly.
Chandradeep has asked Kamsakanya to meet him privately. “Why do you want to do this?” Secretly, Chandradeep knew that she was his own offspring, his own blood, sired in a moment of hot passion with the Devadasi of the palace temple. He remembered that stormy night, when he met the beautiful woman in her hut. They had torn off each other’s clothes, and made love the whole night. The king had found such pleasure that night, something that his shallow queens couldn’t give even a part of. The mother had died during the difficult childbirth, and duty had forbidden him from accepting his daughter, though he ensured that the girl was taken good care of. Chandradeep knew Hari was her lover. And he was pained by the thought that the handsome young man was close to death now.
Kamsakanya’s face was tear streaked face but emotionless. “Raje,” she said, “It is not only a matter of vengeance for me, but also pride for my country and its fair ruler. I will fight, and obliterate him. You need not worry about the outcome.” She had bowed and left him brooding.
Mushtanda has a green loin cloth wrapped about him. It makes him uncomfortable as he glances at Kamsakanya, who steps into the akhada wearing a red choli (blouse) and lahenga (skirt that ends just above the knee). The skirt has a red gold trim, and she has gold ornaments on her arms and head and tinkling anklets. She is a picture of supple power. Her fists are clenched, showing off her rippling sinews under the soft skin. The powerful muscles of her calves and thighs stand out as she slowly steps into the akhada. The crowd is silent, but keen to watch the fight. Many have come carrying small metal boxes.
The gong goes off and Mushtanda lunges at her.
Kamsakanya sidesteps with cat like grace at the last minute. So confident is Mushtanda with his move that he loses balance and falls heavily on the soft clay. Red in the face, he gets up and lunges at her. And misses. As he turns around to charge again, Kamsakanya stamps her feet in the clay, and starts to build up a tempo. The crowd picks it up and amplifies it with their claps.
Mushtanda, the raging bull, comes closer and bursts into a charge with his arms spread wide. He intends to knock her off her feet. Kamsakanya crouches, her calves balling into clubs. She jumps and somersaults above the wrestler. The confounded Mushtanda is unable to comprehend this move, and falls out of the akhada completely.
Now that would have normally signified defeat for him. But this was no normal bout.
“O Mushtanda, you have lost the match on technical grounds. But the match will continue till you beg me to spare you.”
This time Mushtanda didn’t laugh. Rage and lust were getting the better of him. He charged again and again, but could barely hold on to her. His frequent charges made him tire, and sweat was streaming off his body.
Swearing in his native tongue, Mushtanda swung a haymaker at her. Amazingly, Kamsakanya blocked the heavy blow it with her arm. A shocked Mushtanda grunted with pain – her corded arm felt like metal.
Kamsakanya had been named so, since her body shone like bronze. But she had been practicing dance and martial arts right from the time she could run about. The years of practice and discipline and made her beautiful body tough like metal. Even her lover, Hari, had told her after one night of furious love making: “My lovely Kamsin, your stamina is beyond belief. And I think you are really stronger than me. Look at the bruises your arms and legs have left on me.” That comment had driven Kamsakanya wild with passion. Hari had actually passed out by morning. It seemed if Kamsakanya had also been named after Kamdev, the god of love!
“And now you break the rules. So it shall be. We shall fight without rules.” So saying, Kamsakanya launched into Mushtanda with a barrage of chops, punches and kicks. The hapless wrestler couldn’t understand how to even lay an arm on her.
Her hard body and limbs started to take a toll. The fair skin of the wrestler was now covered in purple welts. A kick to the shin left him limping with a painful swelling. Mushtanda went down to his knees. As Kamsakanya came close, he suddenly managed to grab her by the waist. Quickly he wrapped his huge arms around her and began to squeeze. The two fighters began to roll on the clay.
Mushtanda’s arms began to squeeze Kamsakanya’s muscled and slender torso. Seeing her tiring, Mushtanda’s arrogant grin and erection were back on. He was on top of her. His long penis came out of his shorts and pushed between her knees.
Realising that she needed to break Mushtanda now, Kamsakanya pushed up and brought her calves on either side of his long pole. With a smile, she balled the muscles. “Eeeeeeyyyyaaaaaaahhhh!” he screamed, as his member got crushed. He let her go as his shaking hands went to his damaged organ. Tears had come out and he lay writhing there.
The fight seemed to have gone out of Mushtanda. The crowd now sensed victory and was chanting “Kamsakanya, Kamsakanya…” to the rhythmic beats that her feet and ankles made as she walked about the downed wrestler.
She remembered the pleasurable nights she’d spent with Hari, and recalled the pain he was going through, with his cracked ribs and broken ankle. Her slow walk became like a battle dance, as she took the form of Anahita, the destroyer of demons. The crowed was awed and chanting.
She came upon the prone wrestler and planted her leg on his massive chest. The skirt hem was pulled back, revealing the massive muscularity and power of the thighs. As she pressed her toes into his sternum, the calves bulged out like melons. Balancing on her left foot, she raised her right leg high above her head. From that position, she brought it crashing down on Mushtanda’s chest. The impact drove out his breath. Apart from a ‘whoosh’, he made no sound as the breath was knocked out of him. Wincing with pain, he brought up his arms and knees to protect the mid-section.
Anahita danced around the quivering Mushtanda. Her steps in the soft clay were matched by the soft tinkling of the anklets. The beat was taken up by the chanting crowd “Kamsakanya, Kamsakanya!”
Mushtanda tried to roll over to his side and get up. Kamsakanya ran and cartwheeled over to him. The rolling motion ended with her foot on his chest again. Pinned down, Mushtanda looked caged. Suddenly, he grabbed the dust and threw it in her face. As she flinched, Mushtanda pushed her away, got up and lunged. The two were rolling on the ground. Now the wrestler had her neck in his hands, and was squeezing or the kill. Kamsakanya’s eyes went wide, and she couldn’t move his hands from her throat.
Fighting panic, she closed her eyes, and moved her legs to grip his barrel chest. Locking her legs behind him, she squeezed. “Ggyyaaaaaahhhhhhhh…..” he exhaled. It was as if he was getting crushed in the trunks of an elephant. In dread, he let go of Kamsakanya’s throat and tried to pry himself out. He exerted himself and pushed with the very limits of his upper body strength, but to no avail. The relentless pincers kept closing in. His mighty chest muscles couldn’t resist the powerful crush of those heavenly bronzed legs.
Krak! Went the first rib. Mushtanda’s eyes were wide and he began to freak. Even now, no sound could come out of his mouth, and his lips moved frantically. Snap! Went another set of ribs. His eyes glazed over with pain. Kamsakanya shook him in her legs. His mouth opened wide in indescribable pain. She rolled over him and now had him down on his back, still with her thighs closing in inexorably. A stream of blood rushed from his nostrils, indicating that his lungs were punctured.
“What is it you wanted to do to me? Where is your bravado now, Mushtanda?” She let him go, and walked around him, with deliberate steps. The regular beat of her anklets was slower now, intended to keep up the suspense. Mushtanda lay there, gulping air by the mouthful, wincing with every exhalation. It was plain that he would not fight again.
Chandradeep watched, not without a sense of pride. His bloodline had managed to keep the honour of the kingdom. His countenance was impassive but his eyes were moist with emotion. Vidurvidya was speechless too.
Now Kamsakanya broke into a dance, one that signified imminent victory of the goddess over the evil demon army. Ta ta tai, ta ta taam! Went her dance. She danced with the abandon of a warrior bent on the kill.
As Mushtanda tried to get up, she leaped and landed her foot on his chest. ‘Chhaammm’ went her anklet. “Did I allow you to get up?”. Mushtanda was now crying…”Uh…huhhh…huhhh…Spare me my lady….please let me go…” “I will give up wrestling; I will not hurt anyone else. I promise.” “Oh! Really? I know your types. You are sick. You believe you are above the law, that you can do anything and get away!” She squeezed his chest more.
“Noooo…..please! I will obey all laws now… I will obey…obey you…I will do whatever you say.” Mushtanda’s hands came up, folded… “Please, mistress…I obey you….Auughhhh” She pressed him more. In reflex, his hands came up to her bulging calves. “Please don’t kill me, I beg you…I beg you” He began to slowly rub and massage her calf muscles.
Oddly, Kamsakanya liked that. She smiled at him. “Do you like that? Do you think my foot belongs here?” She pressed a bit more for emphasis. “Yes, Oh yes, your foot…my chest…my body belongs to your foot, to the sole of your foot. I am a lowly worm, but don’t crush me please…I will serve you till I die…”
The crowd had been chanting Kamsakanya’s name continuously. “But the people want you dead, Mushtanda” she exclaimed. “No my mistress, spare me, I live under your toenail, I am but a worthless speck on the heel of your foot.” By now, Mushtanda’s penis had risen and was, unlike the rest of his body, standing tall and proud. Kamsakanya moved her foot down slowly, and brought it to his groin. And pressed. Mushtanda’s seed spurted copiously and splattered Kamsakanya’s thighs and calves. The white fluid stuck to her legs and highlighted the musculature. As the cum trickled down, it traced the muscle striations and followed her every curve. “Aaah, My lady….ooh!”
“Shut up, you worthless scum!” she cut him off, and broke his right forearm with a hard stamp of her foot. She jumped and dealt more damage – to his knees, ankles and fingers. Then she placed her foot on his face and squeezed. Mushtanda tried to bring up his broken arms to stop her foot, but it wouldn’t have helped even if his arms were intact. His head went down into the soft soil, arching his neck as it was firmly implanted into the ground.
Kamsakanya stepped back to survey her work: Mushtanda’s visibly broken body lay sprawled in the clay, the legs parted apart and twitching. His hands jerked spasmodically, and the chest heaved. The only thing not moving was the head, which was stuck in the ground.
The crowd was now chanting with fervour…there was bloodlust everywhere…”Kill…Kill… ….Kamsakanya…Kamsakanya” they shouted. Women in the crowd ululated, the men swayed with religious zeal.
Kamsakanya danced to the end of the akhada, and from there, she ran and jumped to land with her foot on Mushtanda’s groin, thus bringing about the end of the evil wrestler.
The crowd was in ecstasy; they had opened their little metal boxes and were sprinkling vermillon in the air and on themselves. The air was charged with the crimson of vermillion and inflamed with raw passions. The women came and put vermillon on the body of Kamsakanya, and the men dug out the ruin of Mushtanda and set fire to his body on the river bank.
Kamsakanya soon detached herself from the revelry and made her way to Hari, who was being nursed by his guru. She went to Hari and told him about her victory. Crying, she hugged him, and told him that she would never let him suffer anymore, for she would marry him and no one else.
Chandradeep himself went to Kamsakanya’s humble abode and revealed her parentage. He tearfully pleaded with her to forgive him, and promised to make amends.
The lady with the bronze legs married her wrestler lover and ruled after her father was no more. She was remembered as a ruler wise with justice and equally fierce on the battlefield.
Today, in the village of Kanshet, the majestic bronze idol of the dancing queen, mistakenly worshipped as Nataraja, looks out to the river. Verdant grass plains surround the rarely visited spot. But if you visit the place at sunrise, you can hear the soft sounds of anklets, as if Kamsakanya herself is walking on the river bank.