According to the legend the King Vikramaditya, in order to fulfill a vow, was required to remove a corpse of betaal from a treetop and carry it on his shoulder to another place in silence. He would have to fetch it for the mendicant, as the mendicant was seeking certain occult powers which he would get only if a king brought this particular corpse to him and if he would practice certain rites sitting on it. There would be a corpse hanging from one of its branches. King Vikramaditya had to visit the northern-most corner of this ground where he would find a very ancient tree. The mendicant tells that there is a task that only a King like Vikrmaditya can perform.
The King asked mendicant why he was doing this. The only thing alive and potentially scary is a snake.Įven the dialogue swings wildly between time and place – “shaadi”, “barbaadi” and “chakkar katna” are uttered in the same breath as “parantu,” “vivah” and “prayatna”.However, the mendicant had set a condition that the King must meet him under a Banyan tree in the center of the cremation ground beyond the city, at night, on the 14th day of the dark half of the month.
Even the trees in the forest appear to be dead. Cars honk in the background when the king pauses for breath, men wear sherwanis and women Gujarati style-nylon saris. Watch it now and you will cringe at the cardboard sets with curtains and doors painted on paper, electric cables, concrete roads in cities during the reign of King Vikramaditya, manhole covers, plug points covered with black cloth and worse.
#VIKRAM AUR BETAAL THEME SONG SERIAL#
You could say the same about Vikram aur Betaal, our weekly tryst with a toothless spirit and a poker-faced king that seemed grander and more attractive than it would today.īased on the Sanskrit collection Betaal Pachisi and produced by Ramanand Sagar, the serial was a massive rage among kids who fell in love with the character meant to scare them – an old man in a flowing white wig, yellow under-eye highlights, scarlet lips stretched in a smile over a wide, denture-less mouth, and a signature cackle that echoed in school corridors and neighbourhood lanes, replicated pitch for pitch. The most cruel thing about growing up is that everything seems smaller – the park where you played, the toy gun that shattered the mid-afternoon quiet, and even the ghosts that followed you in dark alleys.
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