Badang

From The Book of THoTH (Leaves of Wisdom)

Background/History

One of Singapore's most famous native home-grown legends, Badang is a famous 14th century mythical icon that has often been hailed as the island's first super-hero, appearing in primary school text-books that seek to pay homage to the native Malay cultural traditions and mythology by publicising its most famous avatar.

The ancient tales have it that this mighty champion was once a lowly slave, toiling for a stern master as a humble field menial. Work was hard and physically grueling, and Badang, a man of frail and weak physique, found it hard to survive on the meager fare he was fed. So every night, the dimunitive slave would set his tattered nets along the banks of the river, hoping to ensnare some fish to feed the heavy needs for sustenance that his harsh and unrewarding work imposed on him.

But there came a night when Badang pulled up one of his nets to reveal a nasty surprise. Hungrily awaiting a plump river fish to feast on, Badang was shocked to find that the net had been ripped. Obviously something, or someone, was plundering his catch. Annoyed, he cast his nets again, hoping to be more fortunate the following night.

He was to be dissapointed. It was the same story again, with his nets once again ravaged by the plundering thief. Another catch plundered, another night to be spent in miserable hunger. Badang was furious now. Whatever or whover had done this to him, had to be made an example of. He could not afford to allow this ravenous nocturnal raider to reduce him to a state of famine.

This furious resolve burning in his heart, Badang decided to spring a trap for this invisible, hated nemesis. Once again he cast his nets along the river well after the sun had set, but this time he did not retire back into his hut to sleep as he had always done previously. Instead, he concealed himself some distance away from the bank, and begun to keep a constant watch from his hidden position, eager to spot the thief the moment it came out of hiding to feast on his catch.

He was not to be dissapointed. As the night progresssed, his vigilant eyes espied a small figure clad in white moving stealthliy towards the nets he had cast. As Badang continued to watch in expectant fury, the little visitor quickly proceeded to reel up his nets and begun to hungrily devour the fish enmeshed in them. uanble to endure the sight of this wretched gluttony any longer, Badang sprung out, screaming with wrath. So you are the one has robbed me of my catch every night! But I shall take my revenge by seeing to it that you die here and now, never to steal from me again!'

As these murderous, wrathful words poured from his mouth, the thief spun around in astonished terror, revealing itself to be a misshapen dwarf sprouting a vast beard. Its features stricken with horror, it quickly begun to plead for its life. Spare my life, and I will give you anything you desire! Anything at all. Just do not kill me!

Now it was Badang's turn to be surprised. This thieving midget offering him a generous gift in return for its miserable life? Certianly not the conclusion he had anticipated, as he had set his ambush this night. But still one that filled him with an expactant awe nevertheless. Perhops the dwarf possessed magic powers and was capable of granting him any wish he craved. What then should he demand? Asking for riches and wealth was useless. As a slave, absolutely anything of value that he might possess, belonged to his master. So he had to desire something that was just as tangible, yet impossible for others to remove from him. Thinking long and hard on the subject, Badang finally reached his answer.

He wanted to be strong, so very inhumanly strong. Strong beyond the imgainations of most mortal men. And so that was exactly what he demanded of the captive dwarf.

Hearing his request, the dwarf nodded its head in agreement. Before I grant your wish though, you must do one thing for me.

And what might that be? Badang replied warily.

You must eat the fish that I have stolen from you. And with those enigmatic words, the dwarf begun to vomit out copius amounts of partially digested fish, causing Badang to grimace with disgust and revulsion. But he was determined to lay claim to that which his prisoner had promised him, and so, with a grim face, he begun to eat the small mountain of rotting fish which the dwarf had regurgitated, steeling his nerves in the face of the loathesome task that lay before him.

When he had finally completed the requirement imposed on him, Badang begun to test the truth of the dwarf's boon by attempting to shake a near-by coconut tree. Stradling its trunk with his arms, he begun to tug casually at it, uprooting it completely in the process. Amazed and almost dumbfounded by the prodigious strength that now ran in his arms, Badang was more than happy to keep his part of the agreement by allowing the dwarf to flee with its life.

His newly obtained super-human power soon begun to manifest itself to his owner as Badang employed his massive strength to help reap the harvest in record time, saving vast amounts of time and expense for his astonished master. Realizing that something phenomenal must have occured to endow his formerly puny slave with these awesome reserves of physical strength, Badang's owner confronted him and demanded to know what had befallen him. Afraid to admit nothing, Badang described to his master the encounter with the mysterious dwarf.

Impressed that Badang had chosen to continue earning an honest living by choosing strength over quick wealth, his master released him from bondage, advising the newly liberated Badang to use his newly accquired strength only for good.

Faithfully heeding his former master's advice, Badang soon attracted wide-spread fame as he begun to accomplish great things with his gift.

At last tidings of his phenomenal powers reached the ears of King Seri Rama Wira Kerma. Curious to test the truth of these wild tales, he summoned the famous Badang to his court. Arriving there, Badang found himself presented with a challenge that many sane minds would have dismissed as being fsntastically impossible.

The king had recently completed a ship, one so vast that a thousand of his warriors had failed to push it into the sea, despite draining their combined strength to its utmost. Now Badang found himself obliged to try and suceed where they had failed.

With a single lazy shove, he sent the ship careening into the sea with such force that it seemed as if he were handling a mere toy instead of a huge war-galley that had confounded the best efforts of a thousand men to move it.

Astounded by the miracle he had witnessed with his own eyes, the king immediately had Badang annointed as the personal champion of the kingdom.

As the years passed, Badang's reputation swelled. With his power, he roundly humilated the rival champion sent by the king of Perak, an act that not only helped his own king to settle a score with that leader, but one which also enabled the kingdom of Singapura to seek victory against its foe in a manner that was far less destructive than open warfare.

The peak of Badang's illustrious life however, had yet to come.

A mighty king of India had heard much about the legendary prowess of Badang and was determined to pit him against his own reknown champion. Declaring his own champion to be far mightier than Badang, he invited the king of Singapura to see the two vie for dominance. That is, if his royal brother was courageous enough to to accept his challenge.

Stung, Seri Rama Wira Kerma was quick to send Badang across the seas to humble the arrogant Rajah.

On the appointed day of the challenge, Badang and his rival gathered before the Raja in his arena. Gesturing to a vast boulder that had been brought there, the Rajah announced the terms of the challenge.

They were simple enough. Whoever moved the boulder the furthest, would be hailed as the winner.

The Indian champion was the first to try his hand at victory. Grabbing hold the boulder, he strained his massive muscles and succeeded in raising the huge rock above his knees. Then he dropped it, all his strength spent.

It was Badang's turn now. Following the example of his rival, he positioned his arms around the rock, heaving... And flung it into the sky.

The rock soared like some giant, deformed bird until it met its inevitable desecent at the mouth of a river located a few leauges away.

To this day, a mysterious rock fragment inscribed with some undecipherable Javanese script, lies in Singapore Museum of Asian civilizations. The locals that gaze upon it know it as only one thing:Badang's rock to which that legendary hero briefly lent the power of flight.