In the heart of the forest, around a dried-up pond, trees had grown in a curved formation, leaving a clearing in their midst. In that open space, about a thousand Chola soldiers had set up camp. For their meal, enormous cauldrons were set atop blazing fires, and within them, vast quantities of rice bubbled and boiled. In pots and pans, various dishes were being cooked. The aroma rising from these vessels made the mouths of the soldiers water. While the rice finished cooking, the men passed the time in song, dance, and playful games.

At that moment, their beloved young prince arrived among them, and the soldiers’ excitement knew no bounds. The commander of the border guard had to exert considerable effort to restore order among them. He arranged for everyone to sit quietly, in a semicircle shaped like the crescent moon. A massive tree had been felled, its base left protruding slightly above the ground. The prince came and seated himself upon this natural throne. Now, he was not dressed as an elephant driver. Upon his head was a golden crown, armlets adorned his upper arms, pearl necklaces graced his chest, and a silk sash was tied around his waist.

Around him sat the commander of the border guard, Vandiyathevan, and Azhwarkadiyan.

To delight the prince, a performance of the “Elela Singan” historical play had been arranged. At this time, the Chola soldiers held a large portion of Lanka, but a thousand years ago, Tamil warriors had once conquered the island. Then, the leader of those Tamil warriors was Elela Singan. Driven out by him, the king of Lanka had hidden for a time in the hill country. That king’s son was named Dushtakaman. He was a fierce warrior, who long dreamed of reclaiming Lanka from Elela Singan.

When Dushtakaman was a young boy, one day he lay curled up in bed, his arms and legs folded tightly against his body. His mother asked, “Child! Why are you lying there all curled up? Why not stretch out your arms and legs and sleep comfortably?” Dushtakaman replied, “Mother! On one side, the Tamil warriors are pressing in on me, and on the other, the sea is crowding me. What can I do? That’s why I’m lying curled up like this!”

Such was the warrior who, upon reaching manhood, gathered an army and marched... They scattered and fled in utter disarray. At that moment, Dushtakaman devised a clever stratagem. He went directly to where Elelasingan stood, faced him squarely, and declared, “O King! Before your mighty army, my small force has been routed and has fled. I alone remain. You are born of a pure warrior lineage. Therefore, I challenge you to single combat with me. Let the kingdom of Lanka belong to the victor between us; let the other attain the warrior’s heaven!”

Such courage and valor in Dushtakaman greatly astonished Elelasingan. Thus, he agreed to fight him in single combat. He gave strict orders to his own warriors not