Illustration from Myths of the Hindus and Buddhists by Sister Nivedita and Ananda Coomaraswamy, 1st edition, 1913
Born in a family of Chitrakars in the state of Mysore, who were the appointed painters of the Mysore Kingdom and artisans under the Vijayanagara kings, on 28 June 1886, young Krishnappa Venkatappa followed his father's footsteps, assisting him in the court of Raja Krishna Raja Wadiyar IV. His talent was identified early in his life, and he was sent to the Government School of Art, Calcutta, for further studies. This was the first stage where he learnt and polished his art and became the great artist K. Venkatappa that we all know today. His painting style incorporates birds and nature, which is similar to that of Ustad Mansur; he is therefore also known as Masur of Bengal. He was not only a skilled painter but also a sculptor and a veena player. In 1974, the Venkatappa Art Gallery was established in his name in Bengaluru, where his works are displayed.
In the painting, an excerpt from the Ramayana can be seen where Lord Ram killed the mystic demon Maricha, who took the form of a golden deer to lure Lord Ram away from Goddess Sita so Ravana could abduct her. Goddess Sita was this magnificent golden deer and asked Lord Ram to get the deer for her, dead or alive. Exceptional archer as he was, lord Ram chased the deer in the jungle and shot an arrow in its direction, directly hitting it at once. This brought an end to Maricha's life, and as he was dying, he took his real form and called out in Ram's voice, "Oh Lakshman! Oh Sita!" Hearing this cry, Sita became restless and asked Lakshman to help his brother, leaving Mata Sita alone, helping Ravan execute his plan. This was the story of Maricha the demon, and how he was killed. As can be seen in the painting, Lord Ram aiming his arrow towards the golden deer, unaware of his true demonic nature.
K. Venkatappa’s The Death of Maricha comes across as a straightforward moment where deception finally fails. The scene feels calm rather than dramatic, which makes the outcome seem inevitable instead of shocking. Maricha’s illusion, something that once distracted and misled, no longer holds power, and that shift is the central idea the painting conveys.
What stands out is how the painting treats this as a natural consequence rather than a heroic victory. It doesn’t exaggerate emotion; instead, it lets the viewer understand that false appearances cannot last forever.
