Lioness of Punjab by Anita Jari Kharbanda

Author:Anita Jari Kharbanda [Kharbanda, Anita Jari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUVENILE FICTION / Historical / JUV016080 - Military & Wars, JUVENILE FICTION / JUV014000 - Girls & Women, JUVENILE FICTION / Social Issues / JUV039220 - Values & Virtues
Publisher: Yali Publishing LLC
Published: 2022-09-17T00:00:00+00:00

One morning, Kulwinder Singh approached our house with his mother in the lead. His mataji scoffed when she saw me, clearly unimpressed by my skills. Kulwinder, on the other hand, stared at me with a strange look. I felt embarrassed. As a child, he looked at me with disdain when I wrestled him to the ground, but now, there was hunger in his eyes. The feeling was not mutual.

I ignored him and prepared to duel with my father.

“Take your position. Let’s begin,” said Pitaji, smiling.

I blocked Pitaji’s feints, and he mine. We switched hands to mimic fighting with a double-edged khanda. The thrill I felt was all-encompassing.

“You are truly my dhi, nimble and powerful,” Pitaji paid me a rare compliment as we sparred. “And don’t worry that you might be smaller than your male opponent. A smaller target is harder to bring down. And if you move first, you can control your enemy.”

We stopped when we noticed our guests were leaving not moments after they had arrived. Why had they come in the first place? Kulwinder hung his head low while his mataji scowled at me, her eyes bulging like a toad. She mumbled under her breath as she stormed off.

Wrapping up the day’s practice, Pitaji said, “Dhi, always remember this—the battlefield is your holy ground. The double-edged sword is your prayer. Combat is your service. And victory is your karma.”

I repeated the words to myself. Little did I know that these words, like a wave crashing upon the shore, would one day provide solace when I lay trapped in death’s suffocating grasp.

I continued to train with my father for many moons and mastered the use of different weapons. Pitaji introduced me to a six-winged shispar mace, and I perfected striking blows with it. He taught me to use the three-pronged trishul, the weapon of choice of Shiva. Hurling a lasso, shooting with bows and arrows—he pushed me hard until I could wield each one with skill. It was the only time when my mind felt free, like a hawk soaring in the sky.

Pitaji described Sikh armor. “The Guru’s chosen color for his fighters is blue, known as Khalsa Swarupa. Warriors wear sharp-edged bracelets called jangi kara. They carry the kirpan, and when dressed in full combat gear, a Sikh also carries two other swords: the curved talwar or the straight khanda on his hip—”

“Or hers,” I interrupted.

“Yes, or hers. The second blade is a dagger called a katar on the left hip. On the back, the warrior wears a shield made from buffalo hide known as a dhala.”

Pitaji held out an iron disk. “Dhi, this is a chakram, and this can be used to slice your opponent. We wear chakram on our arms and around our necks. Our turbans are reinforced with these disks to offer protection, so there is no need for any other form of headgear. We also sport an iron claw, a bagh naka, or a trident, a chand torra, hidden in our special dastaars to stab at close quarters.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.