Sri Krishnadevaraya

Told in English, Telugu.

The sun was going down over Hampi, and the giant round boulders glowed orange, as if someone had lit a lamp inside each one. Abhiram sat on a flat stone beside his Thatayya, swinging his legs and looking at the broken pillars all around them.

Thatayya, he said, it is just rocks and old temples. Why did we come all the way from Guntur to see this?

Thatayya smiled and pointed with his walking stick. Close your eyes for a moment, Abhi. Now imagine this place full of people. Markets so busy you can hardly walk. Heaps of rice and pulses, baskets of flowers, horses being led through the streets, merchants selling silk and pearls and spices. Temple bells ringing. Elephants. This was Vijayanagara, the City of Victory, one of the greatest cities in the whole world. And about five hundred years ago, it was ruled by a king we still remember with love. Sri Krishnadevaraya.

Abhiram opened his eyes. Was he very strong?

Very strong, said Thatayya. But that is not the only reason we remember him. Let me tell you.

The Vijayanagara Empire had already stood for more than a hundred and fifty years when Krishnadevaraya became king, in the year 1509. He was young, around twenty years old, younger than your Pedda Mama. His elder brother had ruled before him. The empire was large, stretching across the south of our land along the Tungabhadra river and beyond, but it had troubles. There were enemies on its borders, and some chiefs inside did not want to obey the king.

Now think about this, Abhi. If you were twenty and suddenly had a whole empire on your shoulders, how would you feel?

Abhiram thought. Scared, maybe. And proud. Both together.

Thatayya nodded. I think he may have felt both too. But he had someone beside him who helped him greatly. His wise old minister, Timmarusu. Krishnadevaraya respected him so much that he called him Appaji, almost like calling him father. When the young king had a hard choice to make, he went to Appaji. A clever person knows a lot, but a wise person knows when to ask. Krishnadevaraya was wise enough to ask.

A traveller from far away Portugal, a man named Domingo Paes, came to Vijayanagara while Krishnadevaraya ruled, and he wrote down what he saw. He said the city was as large as Rome, and very well supplied with food. And he wrote something about the king himself that I like very much. Every morning, before the sun rose, the king rubbed his body with gingelly oil and exercised. He lifted heavy weights, he wrestled, and he rode his horse across the plains until he was tired. Only then did he begin his day's work.

Before sunrise? said Abhiram, who did not like waking up even at seven.

Thatayya laughed. Before sunrise. A king who wanted to protect his people had to keep his body strong and his mind clear.

And he did have to protect them. Krishnadevaraya fought many wars. One famous battle was at Raichur, in 1520, against the Sultan of Bijapur. He also marched east, into our own Andhra country, to the hill forts held by the Gajapati king of Odisha, forts like Udayagiri and Kondaveedu. You know Kondaveedu, Abhi. It is near our Guntur. We can see that fort on the hill when we drive past.

Abhiram sat up. Our Kondaveedu? He fought there?

Yes. I will be honest with you. War is never a happy thing. Soldiers on both sides were hurt, and families waited at home, hoping their sons and fathers would return. Kings in those days fought to protect and grow their lands, and Krishnadevaraya was known as a king who almost never lost. But when he made peace with the Gajapati king, the two kingdoms became joined by marriage, and the fighting ended. Sometimes the bravest thing a strong person can do is to stop fighting and make peace.

The sky had turned pink now. A cool breeze came off the river. Thatayya pulled his shawl around his shoulders.

But here is the part I love most, he said. On his way back from that eastern campaign, Krishnadevaraya stopped at a temple of Lord Vishnu at Srikakulam, on the banks of the Krishna river. Later, in his own poem, he wrote that the Lord appeared to him in a dream there and told him to write a poem in Telugu.

The king himself wrote a poem? asked Abhiram. Kings write poems?

This one did. A long and beautiful poem called Amuktamalyada. It tells the story of Goda Devi, a girl who loved God so much that she wore the flower garlands meant for Him before offering them. And in that very poem there is a line that every Telugu child should know. Desa bhashalandu Telugu lessa. Can you say it with me, Abhi? Desa bhashalandu Telugu lessa.

Abhiram said it slowly. Desa bhashalandu Telugu lessa.

It means, among all the languages of the land, Telugu is the finest. Now think, Abhi. This was a king whose empire had people speaking Kannada, Tamil, Telugu, Sanskrit, and many more. He loved and supported poets of other languages too. But he chose to write his own great poem in Telugu, and he spoke of it with such pride. That is why we feel close to him even today.

Abhiram was quiet for a while. At school, some of my friends say Telugu is old-fashioned. They only want to speak English.

Thatayya put a hand on his shoulder. English is a fine language, and you should learn it well. But remember, a great emperor sat in this very city and chose to write in your language. It is not old-fashioned, kanna. It is precious.

Krishnadevaraya filled his court with poets. People called him Andhra Bhoja, after a famous king of old who loved learning. The greatest of his poets was Allasani Peddana, who wrote Manucharitra. He was honoured with the title Andhra Kavitha Pitamaha, the grandfather of Telugu poetry. Another poet, Nandi Thimmana, wrote Parijatapaharanam. People came to remember the great poets of his court as the Ashtadiggajas, the eight elephants who hold up the sky in every direction, because they held up the glory of Telugu. Even today, many funny and clever stories about Tenali Ramakrishna are told as if they happened in this court.

The Tenali Rama stories! said Abhiram. I know those!

Then you have already been to Krishnadevaraya's court, laughed Thatayya.

In Amuktamalyada, the king also wrote advice on how to rule well. He wrote that a king should care for his people, dig tanks to store water for farmers, and welcome traders from distant lands. A good ruler, he believed, was like a gardener who looks after every plant, not only the tallest ones. He built and gave generously to temples here in Hampi, and he went many times to Tirumala to pray to Lord Venkateswara. If you go to the Tirumala temple, you can still see statues of him standing with folded hands, beside his two queens, Tirumala Devi and Chinna Devi.

He was a king who folded his hands? said Abhiram softly.

Even a great emperor bowed his head before God, said Thatayya. That is what made him humble.

Krishnadevaraya ruled for about twenty years, until 1529, when he passed away. The empire went on after him for some time, but slowly, over many years, the great city fell and became these ruins you see now. When I first came here as a young man, I felt sad seeing the broken pillars. But then I understood something. The buildings fell. His poem did not. His words are still read. His love for Telugu still lives, in you and in me.

The first star had come out above the Matanga hill. Abhiram stood up and looked around again. The rocks did not seem like just rocks anymore. He could almost hear the market noise, the horses, the poets reciting in the king's hall.

Thatayya, he said, tomorrow can we come early? Before sunrise? I want to see it like the king did.

Thatayya laughed so hard that his shawl slipped off. Before sunrise? You? All right, kanna. If you wake up, we will come.

And as they walked back down the path, Abhiram whispered to himself, Desa bhashalandu Telugu lessa, so he would never forget it.