The Nataraja of Kanshet
by kavikarmakar@yahoo.com
A visiting champion wrestler defeats the best wrestlers. And asks for more.


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 <wrestling arenas> 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 round, completely 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 yourself 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 stormed out of the arena.

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 <paper made of palm-leaf> 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 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.

Kamsakanya announces: "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 doesn't laugh. Rage and lust are getting the better of
him. He charges again and again, but can barely hold on to her. The frequent
charges are tiring him, and sweat streams off his body.

Swearing in his native tongue, Mushtanda swings a haymaker at her. Amazingly,
Kamsakanya blocks the heavy blow with her arm. A shocked Mushtanda grunts with
pain - her corded arm feels like metal.

Kamsakanya had been so named, since her body shone like bronze. But she had
been practising dance and martial arts right from the time she could run
about. The years of practice and discipline had 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 as 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 launches into Mushtanda with a barrage of chops, punches
and kicks. The hapless wrestler isn't able to understand how to even lay an
arm on her.

Her hard body and limbs start to take toll. The fair skin of the wrestler is
now covered in purple welts. A kick to the shin leaves him limping with a
painful swelling. Mushtanda goes down on his knees. As Kamsakanya comes close,
he suddenly manages to grab her by the waist. Quickly he wraps his huge arms
around her and begins to squeeze. The two fighters roll in the clay.

Mushtanda's arms squeeze Kamsakanya's muscled and slender torso. Seeing her
tiring, his arrogant grin and erection are back on. He is on top of her. His
long penis comes out of his shorts and pushes between her knees.

Realising that she needs to break Mushtanda, Kamsakanya pushes up and brings
her calves on either side of his long pole. With a smile, she balls the
muscles. "Eeeeeeyyyyaaaaaaahhhh!" he screams, as his member gets crushed. He
lets her go as his shaking hands go to his damaged organ. Tears come out and
he lies writhing there.

The fight seems to have gone out of Mushtanda. The crowd senses victory and
chants "Kamsakanya, Kamsakanya ... " to the rhythmic beats that her feet and
ankles make as she walks about the downed wrestler.

She remembers the pleasurable nights she'd spent with Hari, recalls the pain
he was going through, with his cracked ribs and broken ankle. Her slow walk
becomes a battle dance, as she takes the form of Anahita, the destroyer of
demons. The crowed is awed and chanting.

She comes upon the prone wrestler and plants her leg on his massive chest. The
skirt hem is pulled back, revealing the massive muscularity and power of the
thighs. As she presses her toes into his sternum, the calves bulge out like
melons. Balancing on her left foot, she raises her right leg high above her
head. From that position, she brings it crashing down on Mushtanda's chest.
The impact drives out his breath. A 'whoosh' sound is all he makes as the
breath is knocked out of him. Wincing with pain, he brings up his arms and
knees to protect the mid-section.

Kamsakanya, like the goddess Anahita, dances around the quivering Mushtanda.
Her steps in the soft clay are matched by the soft tinkling of the anklets.
The beat is taken up by the chanting crowd "Kamsakanya, Kamsakanya!"

Mushtanda tries to roll over to his side and get up. Kamsakanya runs and
cartwheels over to him. The rolling motion ends with her foot on his chest
again. Pinned down, Mushtanda looks caged. Suddenly, he grabs the dust and
throws it in her face. As she flinches, he pushes her away, gets up and lunges
at her. The two are rolling on the ground. Now the wrestler has her neck in
his hands, squeezing for the kill. Kamsakanya's eyes go wide, and she can't
move his hands from her throat.

Fighting panic, she closes her eyes, and moves her legs to grip his barrel
chest. Locking her legs behind him, she squeezes. "Ggyyaaaaaahhhhhhhh ... .."
he screams. It is as if he is getting crushed in the trunks of an elephant. In
dread, he lets go of Kamsakanya's throat and tries to pry himself out. He
exerts himself and pushes with the very limits of his upper body strength, but
to no avail. The relentless pincers keep closing in. His mighty chest muscles
can't resist the powerful crush of those heavenly bronzed legs.

Krak! Goes the first rib. Mushtanda's eyes are wide and he begins to freak.
Even now, there is no sound coming out of his mouth, though his lips move
frantically. Snap! goes another set of ribs. His eyes glaze over with pain.
Kamsakanya shakes him in her legs. His mouth opens wide in indescribable pain.
She rolls over him and now has him down on his back, still with her thighs
closing in inexorably. A stream of blood rushes from his nostrils, indicating
that his lungs are punctured.

"What is it you wanted to do to me? Where is your bravado now, Mushtanda?" She
lets him go, and walks around him, with deliberate steps. The regular beat of
her anklets is slower now, intended to keep up the suspense. Mushtanda lies
there, gulping air like a fish out of water, wincing with every exhalation. It
is plain that he would not fight again.

Chandradeep watches, not without a sense of pride. His bloodline has managed
to keep the honour of the kingdom. His countenance is impassive but his eyes
are moist with emotion and price. Vidurvidya is speechless too.

Now Kamsakanya breaks into a dance, one that signifies imminent victory of the
goddess over the evil demon army. 'Ta ta tai, ta ta taam!' go her feet. She
dances with the abandon of a warrior intent on the kill.

As Mushtanda tries to get up, she leaps and lands her foot on his chest.
'Chhaammm' goes her anklet. "Did I allow you to get up?". Mushtanda is 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 squeezes 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 come up folded in a plea ...
"Please, mistress ... I obey you ... .Auughhhh" She presses him more. In
reflex, his hands came up to her bulging calves. "Please don't kill me, I beg
you ... I beg you" He begins to slowly rub and massage her calf muscles.

Oddly, Kamsakanya feels pleasure at the sensation of her muscles being rubbed.
She smiles at him. "Do you like that? Do you think my foot belongs here?" She
presses 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 has been chanting Kamskanya's name continuously. "But the people
want you dead, Mushtanda" she exclaims. "No my mistress, spare me, I live
under your toenail, I am but a worthless speck on the heel of your foot."
Mushtanda's penis has risen and, unlike the rest of his body, standing tall
and proud. Kamsakanya moves her foot down slowly, and brings it to his groin.
And presses. Mushtanda's seed spurts copiously and splatters her thighs and
calves. The white fluid sticks to her legs, highlighting the musculature. As
the cum trickles down, it traces the muscle striations and followes her every
curve. "Aaah, My lady ... .ooh!"

"Shut up, you worthless scum!" she cuts him off, and breaks his right forearm
with a hard stamp of her foot. She jumps and deals more damage - to his knees,
ankles and fingers. Then she places her foot on his face and squeezes.
Mushtanda tries to bring up his broken arms to stop her foot, but it wouldn't
help even if his arms are intact. His head goes down into the soft soil,
arching his neck as it gets firmly implanted into the ground.

Kamsakanya steps back to survey her work: Mushtanda's visibly broken body lies
sprawled in the clay, the legs parted apart and twitching. His hands jerk
spasmodically, and the chest heaves. The only thing not moving is the head,
which is stuck in the ground.

The crowd is now chanting with fervour ... there was bloodlust everywhere ...
"Kill ... Kill ... ... .Kamsakanya ... Kamsakanya" they shouted. Women in the
crowd ululate, the men sway with religious zeal.

Kamsakanya dances to the end of the akhada, and from there, she runs and jumps
to land with her foot on Mushtanda's groin, thus bringing about the end of the
evil wrestler.

The crowd is in ecstasy; they had opened their little metal boxes and were
sprinkling vermillon in the air and on themselves. The air is charged with the
crimson of vermillion and inflamed with raw passions.

The women come and put vermillon on the body of Kamsakanya, and the men dig
out the ruin of Mushtanda and set fire to his body on the river bank.

Kamsakanya soon detaches herself from the revelry and makes her way to Hari,
who was being nursed by his guru. She goes to him and tells him about her
victory. Crying, she hugs him, and tells him that she will never let him
suffer anymore, for she would marry him and no one else.

Later, 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.