Features > Madho Singh Bhandari - A Warrior Hero

The fields of Maletha Village Along the Alakhnanda 30 kilometers upstream from Devprayag is a sleepy hamlet called Maletha. It probably isn’t sleepy, but I’ve almost always driven past it in the tranquil afternoon. The river makes a glistening, somnambulant U-turn and draped along its curve is the village of Maletha. On one journey from somewhere to somewhere at the tiny Maletha cross road an old gentleman boarded the bus. He sat next to me and talked. As the miles flew by a legend was spun and Madho Singh Bhandari got woven into my consciousness.

In the sixteenth or seventeenth century in the village of Maletha, in the house of a warrior popularly known as Sone Baan Kalo Bhandari, a son Madho Singh Bhandari was born. The Maletha Madho Singh grew up in was dry and arid. The fine flat fields yielded only Jhangora, coarse millet. As a young man Madho Singh joined the royal court at Srinagar. Bards sang of his exploits. A brave soldier he led his army into Tibet, built great forts and captured territories across the region.

On one of his visits home, when his only son was growing into a fine young man, Madho reached tired and hungry. He called to his wife to bring him food and water. When she didn’t appear for a long time he was angry. He shouted and she came. Empty handed. What would your worship like she asked, the finest vegetables, rice, dals, fruit... what?

The sarcasm cut through to Madho’s soul. The fields were wonderful and flat, but there was no water. The dry Jhangora and water went down with difficulty. That night Madho couldn’t sleep. In the early hours he vowed that he wouldn’t leave till he had dug a canal and brought water to his Maletha.

Along one ridge bordering Maletha flowed a stream the Chandrabhaga. Madho decided to tunnel through the mountainside and channel the water to Maletha. The next morning the village bustled. Priests blessed the area and the people led by Madho Singh Bhandari got to work. For weeks they laboured. Finally the tunnel was complete. One furlong long and five feet wide and five feet deep. But the Chandrabhaga refused to flow into it. Alterations were made, prayers offered but still Maletha remained dry. Puzzled the village went to sleep. That night the Goddess appeared in Madho’s dream. Sacrifice your son, she said, only then will the water flow to Maletha. The village agonized, he is Madho’s only son. What about his mother?

The brave son of Maletha knew what he had to do. The young man was sacrificed and his head was placed at the mouth of the tunnel. The water flowed through and carried the severed head on its powerful waves and placed it on a field. Soon Madho was summoned back to duty. With a heavy heart he left his home, never to return.

This is the story that is told around hearths and when field are being harvested. As scythes move in rhythm with music, words sing of Madho Singh Bhandari and his great sacrifice. Today Maletha is green and fertile, abundant and prosperous, and its people remember their hero with pride.

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