Thread by @sheshapatangi1

What if I tell you that the Fort in the picture was captured using Monitor Lizard....?

That's the story of Tanaji Manusare conquering Sinhagad using his pet Ghorpad, Yashwanti.

The story is written as a Ballad by Venu Gopal Narayan and originally published in @Swarajya

Once upon a benighted age,
Our land lay under a foreign horde.
Hampi had fallen a century before, and,
Even the Rajputs now rarely roared.

A Turkic sultanate ruled the Northern Plains,
Which itched to expand its empire south.
It eyed the Adil Shahis of Bijapur,
Who reigned from

Nasik to The Pennar’s mouth.

Under these trammels lay ancient Bharata,
With her traditions in tatters, and her head bowed.
Infidels in our own homes, ‘kafirs’ to our liege,
Our spirit was broken; we were cowed.

Zakat and Jiziya were our new ways of life,
After hammers had

shattered our holy abodes.
But just when we thought that all was lost,
A soul was born to raise Dharma’s sword.
They named him Shiva, after the Goddess Shivai,
His mother Jija taught him the bhajans of Bhavani.
He was the spark which rekindled our flame,
That later stretched

from Peshawar to Palani.

Shiva grew as all boys do,
On tales of honour and duty.
They opened his eyes to the reality,
Of the injustice meted out to the laity.

So, the nobleman’s son took it upon himself,
To bring the legends he loved to life:
Rana Pratap of Mewar, Arjuna at

Kurukshetra,
And others, who restored order from strife.
Slowly, slowly, year after year, Shiva’s strength grew,
As he started recapturing what we had lost.
First Torna fort, then Purandar, then Pratapgadh,
Until even the Mughal Alamgir started fretting at the cost.

Many imperial campaigns were launched,
To bring this ‘infernal brigand’ to heel.
But every time they tried, they failed,
And were slaughtered by Maratha steel.

An incensed Alamgir tried to deceive Shivaji once,
By imprisoning him in Agra during peace talks.
But the Maratha was

craftier than the Mughal lord,
And escaped in a basket of reed stalks.

Then a lull descended on the contest,
Not long after Shivaji recaptured Poona.
While the Marathas had twenty-nine forts,
The Mughals still held the keep of Kondana.

“That vital fort must be ours”,

Jijabai sternly told her son.
“Whatever the cost, Shiva-ba,
For Dharma, Kondana must be won”.

His childhood friend and brother in arms, For only one could win such a fray –
The gallant Tanaji Malusare.

Tanaji was at his fief, Umaratha,
When a grim-faced horseman arrived

Carrying Shivaji’s formal bidding.

“The marriage is postponed till I have taken the fort, Now fetch me my sword, my shield, and my ride”.

Tana rode north with peculiar haste,
To fulfil the wishes of a mother.
With him rode his uncle Shelar,
And Suryaji, the Malusare’s brother.

Kondana was a difficult prize,
Meaning, brawn had to be matched by brain.

For 2 days Tanaji scoured the site,
Studying bastions, forces, and shift changes.
Then he spent 2 more, gathering news,
From locals who lived in these ranges.

The Mughal commander, Uday Bhan Rathod,

And up his sleeve to foil Was Chandraveli, his deadly killer elephant.

Rathod also had his many sons,
Each more valiant than the other.
Tanaji mulled these factors
Before revealing his mind to his brothers.

“We’ll scale the western cliff at night,
Kill the rampart guards

when the hour is late.
And while we attack Mughal forces,
One group will open the Kalyan Gate”.

“My lord Shivaji will be waiting there.
Once the gate is open, he’ll enter in force.
And soon as the main body is in,
This impregnable fort will be ours”

“Climb that sheer cliff?

It cannot be!”
“Fool!” chuckled Tanaji, “We can!
With the aid of my lovely Yashwanti”.

Tanaji opened a wicker basket,
To reveal Yashwanti, his secret weapon.

She was ugly & fat & Flicking her forked tongue in consternation.
Tanaji patted Yashwanti fondly on the head,
And said

“This is my ghorpad. Pay attention”.
“She is my pet and I’ve trained her well,
To climb sheer walls without pause.
I’ve tied a long rope to her waist,
Which she’ll hoist to the ramparts with her claws”.

“Once she’s atop, I’ll clamber up,
And throw down more ropes for you.

When all 300 have scaled the cliff,
We’ll run the Mughals through”.

Tanaji placed Yeshwanti on the rock,
pointed the escarpment.

“By Bhavani, ghorpad, gonow, go,
This is your master’s command!
Scale the cliff and let us surprise our foe”.

“Go, ghorpad, go” They whispered,

“Go, ghorpad, go” they prayed.
For if the Mavale took Kondana tonight,
Mughal power would be frayed.

Yashwanti climbed the cliff,
Tanaji swiftly pulled himself up,
Three hundred men followed suit
Then, at a signal from their leader,
The Mavale proceeded for the kill.

Tanaji started a silent slaughter along the north walls,
Shelar Mama killed the southern sentries at a frenetic rate.
And as Tajik and Uzbek fell to Maratha blade,
Suryaji led his troops towards the Kalyan Gate.

Outside the fort, Shivaji and his army waited with bated breath.

The first inkling they got that the assault had begun,
Was when Mughals started falling to their death.

Uday Bhan Rathod had been roused,
First to the counter-charge were the Rathod sons;
Every young Rajput was a master of the blade.
But in the end, they were all sadly slayed.

Enraged, the Rathod ordered his men,
To release Chandraveli, their war elephant.
She was a gigantic beast with deadly tusks,
Who would render the Maratha attack redundant.
Grabbing a spear, Tanaji leapt with a roar,
Onto the elephant’s forehead.
He stabbed Until it dropped dead.

That is when the Rathod unsheathed his sword,
Closer and closer he got to Tanaji, growling,
“I’ll get you afore the sun”.

Below, the final assault on the Kalyan Gate began;
Marathas crashed upon the Mughals like a gale.
Above on the ramparts, two men circled each other,

Preparing to script a legendary tale.

They fought like none had fought before,
One sword swung for Mughal imperium,
The other, to restore Sanathana Dharma.

In the end, the Rajput managed a deadly stroke on the Maratha’s head.

Tanaji staggered back
Before slowly falling dead.

But it was not a victory the Commander could savour,
For the Maratha’s blade had cut too deep.
A moment later, he too collapsed,
And drifted into eternal sleep.

At that very moment a great roar went up,
As the Kalyan Gate flew open.
Shivaji and his waiting army cheered,

As Kondana’s last lock was broken.

Later, when the fort had been secured,
Shiva sat with Tana’s head on his thigh.
He thought of their youth, the battles they won,
Then he cried for a friend who died.

“I’ve lost a brother for a mother’s wish.
It’s come at a cost too high.
Yet this fort is the price we pay to protect
Our ancient way of life”, He sighed.

This is the tale of Tanaji’s valour
Which from our land will never fade.

#VeeraShivaji
#AmbaBhavani

#VANDEMATARAM