Third Girl

“It all tastes well and good – but what I would really like for the evening is the eyeball of a chief!”

TYO (the twelve years old) was creatively inspired to utter the above by a single sentence from the guide book story of King Kamehameha – a legendary ruler of Hawaii considered larger than life in its folklore – a sort of Napoleon of the Pacific.

The story goes like this – when the king’s mother, Kekuiapoiwa, was pregnant with him, she had a craving for the eyeball of a chief.

In the Indian subcontinent, the women are satisfied with more modest chow – like tamarind! Not this lady!

However, a saner soul (perhaps a legitimately concerned chief) prevailed and instead provided her the eyeball of a man-eating shark to munch on – and she did – and so the king turned out brave and powerful – like a shark. (The account does sound a bit fishy!)

* * *

Bijli giraane main hoon aayi…
Kehte hain mujhko hawa Hawaii…

My personal exposure to Hawaii had been limited to that one-time hit song – not much of the real thing at all!

Certainly, I knew the rudimentary history – the U.S. annexed it to become a Pacific power; and the rising clout of those old troublemakers, the British and the French, had something to do with it. So we did what we were forced to do – and which we probably would have done even otherwise!

If only the Hawaiians had not tried to impose tariffs – who knows, they could still remain independent. They were certainly not the first people to underestimate our gut resolve NOT to pay taxes – contemporary politicians learn (and relearn) those lessons even now!

Reading the guide-book too closely can create problems. I should have seen where all this would lead – we must go to the Kona coast ourselves – and see the king!

So on we drove! The mosquitoes – they made us feel right in the middle of my native state. The surrounding greenery on every side added to that illusion.

We drove from Kona along the coastal highway – all the way through a bunch of wonderful beach parks – then followed the well-traveled road eastward toward Hawi and Kapaau.

And there he was – the king himself – or at least his statue.

Jab mera yeh tan lachke, jaaye na koi bachke
Soorat hi maine aisi paayi…

* * *

Apparently, they used to have a bunch of other strange customs.

For example, they won’t build canoes without the right prayers.

They won’t cultivate fields without the proper ceremonies.

And this shocker – it was forbidden for men and women to eat together. Yup, if you wish to chop-lick, and you ain’t got a d*** – go join your own kind, chick!

And if you were the “run of the mill” type and your shadow fell on a chief – let’s say a fauzi officer – you were in BIG trouble. Much worse than being in the dog-house! You commit such a grievous act only under the penalty of death!

It almost sounds like a caste system practiced by very brown-looking people.

Good thing it happened a couple of centuries ago and all but the lousiest of the lousy people stopped doing it.

(Sorry, did I speak too soon?)

(I did not mean that YOU are brown on the inside – probably just lily white!)

* * *

Main khwaabon ki shehzaadi, main hoon har dil pe chhaayi
Baadal hai meri zulfein, bijli meri angdaai…

The king had two wives. The first was Kaahumanu, a six-foot 300-pound woman who would become the king’s great counselor.

It makes perfect sense – with a 300 pounder, extreme care must forever be counseled – forget physical intimacy and focus on physical safety – i.e., keep a safe distance!

Never lose your respect for the heavyweights. It’s like being duly respectful to a pro-football defensive back – you can only be otherwise at your own risk!

“Hey baby! Care for a tumble in the hay?”

“Not a chance, darling – not today!”

Nor tomorrow – or any of the tomorrows! It’s just not neat – to become mince-meat.

And talking of variety being the essence of life – the other bride was a delicate 11-year old Keopuolani, with whom he would have a “formal politically expedient union”.

And what the heck is a politically expedient union – a marriage of convenience?

Aren’t all marriages so by definition? Why would any one marry any one if it were IN-convenient?

But eleven years? Now-a-days, people would have their asses hauled into the slammer in no time – to do time – with some serious child-abuse charges slapped hard – faster than you could spell this king’s name.

I guess things used to be different in the past! And not just in Hawaii.

Samjhe kya ho naadaanon, mujhko bholi na jaano…

(Don’t even go there, Beej!)

(What’s the matter – wish to stay in the dog-house forever?)

* * *

The real love of the king’s life was neither of those girls. The third girl was a different creature. She was not even human, but one that he truly craved – with an intense desire to end all desires.

Laayi rangeen afsaane, tu bhi sun le deewaane
Aa dil mein halchal kar doon, aa tujhko paagal kar doon…

Not to roll, but to rule! His idea was THE idea – to become the uncontested ruler of Hawaii.

So first he was locking horns with his royal cousin Keoua, and having a tough time doing so.

In 1790, frustrated, he sought the advice of a soothsayer (the contemporary version of Ajmeri Baba and Pandit Maharaj combined) on the island of Kauai, who said he must build a new temple for his war gods on the Whale’s Hill near Kawaihae. So he started building.

No sooner Keoua heard of it, he attacked. There may have been something to what the soothsayer said because the king beat the pants off his cousin. And to add insult to injury, on his retreat, the cousin lost a third of his warriors in an eruption of the volcano on the slopes of the Mauna Loa. The incident totally messed him up for it appeared that the volcano goddess Pele had played favorites.

In 1791, the temple was completed. Its inauguration was a big deal. Two of the king’s counselors traveled to Keoua and persuaded him to attend, saying the king wanted peace. As Keoua went, one of them threw a spear at him, which he dodged. Muskets were then fired, and he was killed. Some say that the king genuinely sought to end the fighting with his cousin but was thwarted by his ambitious and scheming chiefs.

Oh sure – those lousy schemers – like the planners of the Kathmandu hijacking! They probably only got promoted as the “king” continued to shed tears – and those martial tears probably gushed out in full regimental formation, too!

Jaanoo jo tum-ne – baat chhupaayi….

The body of Keoua was baked in an underground oven until the flesh came loose from the bones – hiding all traces of what had happened – like if you pretend real hard, the world will forget – and you can go on pretending that it never happened and that you had nothing to do with it.

But the skeleton remained – the skeleton always remains!

The bones were believed to contain the mana (essence) and were offered to the war god in a solemn night of prayer.

If anyone made a sound during the prayers, he/she would have been put to death, too.

Don’t squeak, you crowds – don’t sqeal, don’t tell, just hide behind your tail – it works with every “king”, without fail!

With the dedication of the temple and the death of his cousin, the king consummated the most cherished union of his life – or so he thought at the time!

* * *

The problem with the third girls is that they are never satiated!

Meri aankhon mein jaadu, meri saanson mein khushboo…

Four years later, in 1795, the king launched an invasion fleet of 1,200 canoes and more than 10,000 warriors to take in the islands of Maui, Molokai, Lanai, and Oahu. His superior strength in European weapons was given the credit. Trapped, many of the fleeing warriors were pushed or jumped to their deaths off the 1,200-foot cliffs.

The king then targeted a couple of islands about 70 miles away – still outside his control. His men encountered a storm half way across the channel between and many canoes sank. The crippled fleet returned to Oahu.

So he built a navy of very large stable canoes with sails of western design and 50 to 100 warriors each. Some 800 of these canoes were assembled. The king’s very own nuke to make them all puke!

Still, no luck! In fact, during a stop-over in Oahu on his way to Kauai in 1804, an epidemic killed many of his warriors.

The magnificent canoes were left to rot on the shores of Waikiki. And to think of the resources that went into building them! At least they did not get used.

The king himself became ill but recovered. The “king” always recovers!

* * *

Of all of the king’s abilities, his resourcefulness in dealing with the foreigners was his real forte. He obtained from the British and Americans the arms to conquer the islands and western luxuries to enhance his people’s lifestyle.

No foreigners were permitted to own land, of course! He was quite insistent on that. Indeed, the island of Kauai might well be Russian territory today had not he insisted that Kaumualii (his last vassal) expel an ambitious German doctor, Georg Schaffer. The tsar of Russia desired friendly trade relations with Hawaii, but the doctor built a fort for the Russians on Kauai and even planted the Russian flag on leeward Ohau.

Yet the funny thing about the King’s time was that it only took 26 years of contact with the Europeans for the Hawaiian population to shrink by a third. They just did not have the outsiders’ tolerance for some of the diseases – pneumonia, smallpox, measles, (not to mention syphilis, and gonorrhea).

You see, they were just made differently. Hanging around with the wrong crowds can do that to you!

And within 80 years of the king leaving the scene, the island – which he virtually united under his command – would no more remain free – as if all his work was meant just to pave the way for that annexation that lay ahead.

Main hoon saanpon ki rani, kaanta maange na paani
Saagar se moti chheenoon, deepak se jyoti chheenoon
Patthar se aag laga loon, seene se raat chura loon…

The third girl and the king – they indeed came together forever at last! He sought her all his life – not realizing that she was destined to be his in death – and only in death!

For what the king wished to capture was the eternal glory of absolute rule – under a united people – and the embrace of the third girl would be the terminal stop – the stop he would never stop to think of – or could possibly have thought of.


Reference:
“Hawaii, The Story of Kamehameha”, published on Jane Resture’s Oceania web page,.