Satyayoddha Kalki- Eye of Brahma

by Kevin Missal

  Arjan gulped. This was a tough moment. Could he trust Kali in helping him leave or could he not?

  He thought about Rudra, Vikram, and hell, even Harsha. Slowly and faintly, Arjan wiped the sweat that trickled down his face as he said what he should have a while back. “You are wrong. There is no escape at work.”

  Arjan had been in the courtyard, yet again practising his wrestling moves but also learning the ways of a javelin. The day was mighty and the sunshine struck hard on his back.

  He had been genuinely petrified last night when he had lied in front of Kali, as his golden eyes had sunk into Arjan’s soul to identify the truth. But he hadn’t budged.

  He felt relieved and while he practised his javelin, he saw Rudra walking up to him, noticing the gaze of Master Reddy who was on the other side of the field. Rudra began to stretch his muscular arms and crunch his tight stomach, letting his chest convulse with sweat and energy. Again, Arjan felt things he shouldn’t be feeling in such a situation. And so, he tried to ignore Rudra, in every way possible.

  “Arjan?” Rudra’s soft voice called out.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where were you taken last night?”

  “To Kali.”

  Arjan was not looking at Rudra, so as to not act suspicious in front of Master Reddy. They were practising their respective routines, but it was all a front for their conversation.

  “What did he want?”

  “To know if there is a revolt being planned in the prison.”

  Rudra stopped with his spear and turned. “I hope you didn’t say anything.”

  “Of course, I didn’t.” Arjan was hurt because Rudra had suspected him of ratting everyone out. “He even offered me freedom, but I refused. If we go, we all go, not just me.”

  Arjan realized that Rudra was grinning from ear to ear. “Thanks, Arjan. I guess you’re not just a handsome man, but also a true friend.”

  Arjan blushed. Gods, the worst thing that could happen is him being flustered in front of a man like Rudra. But he kept quiet and gave a meek nod. “I don’t know what ‘handsome’ plays a role in this.”

  “I was just trying to fit in a compliment somewhere.” Rudra smiled, though it faltered as he continued. “You must know that Harsha is telling others you are Lord Kali’s spy who’s feeding everyone information.”

  “Me? That’s stupid.”

  “I know, I trust you, but others don’t. I’ll try to convince them by telling them what you just told me.”

  Arjan appreciated the gesture and Rudra’s hand parted from him, as he walked away only to realize everyone had stopped practising. They were looking up. Walking in the field with a bunch of soldiers was Kali. He had a devious grin on his face. Master Reddy, at the sight of his king, instantly bowed and told other prisoners to bow as well. His appearance in the prison was so swift and unexpected that Arjan couldn’t even see from where he had arrived. Arjan bowed as well, his head down, but he peered from the corner of his eye.

  “At ease,” Kali gestured. “I’m glad you all are taking your sport in great spirit.” He was bored; it was the monotonous voice that made it too evident. “I’ve just come here because, well . . . I have got some unfortunate news for you all.”

  Everyone looked strained. Arjan shared a glance with Vikram who had come skipping over to his side.

  “I have learnt from my recent gatherings of information that you all are planning to escape. What is wrong? Did I do something? Is the food bad? Is the accommodation not comfortable for you? Maybe you don’t want to battle with each other so much. I understand your skepticism; I do.” He began walking through the lines where all the inmates were kneeling down. “I want you all to be away from this life.”

  Arjan didn’t understand who Kali was pointing at until he realized that he was right behind him. All inmates raised their heads and looked at Arjan. Kali grabbed Arjan by the head and pulled him up. That hurt, but not too much. Arjan withstood it like he withstood most of the pain he had suffered till now in his life.

  “Because he ratted you all out. I know everything about what you all are up to. And he gave the information to me. And it’s just fun, because now you all will suffer the consequences.” He patted Arjan on the back as Arjan’s feet began to grow cold as he blankly looked at Kali. He couldn’t understand what was happening. “Thank you, boy. You helped me out yesterday. Everyone! Because of him, your plan is sabotaged. And now as a punishment to all, including him, since he was part of it initially as well, you will all combat to death. Absolute hardcore wrestling, I must say. So yes, thank you and think twice before you mess with me again!” He patted Arjan again before leaving the premises.

  Arjan was befuddled and he realized what Kali had just done. He had put the blame on Arjan. This will make him the prime target in prison. Now as he glanced at the disappointed eyes of Rudra and the angry eyes of Harsha, he knew he was in a lot of trouble. What a sadistic madman!

  Since he was untrained, Arjan realized he could be pretty much dead by the next match he was going to be in.

  The scarred man . . . the fire . . .

  That’s what she kept thinking, scribbling down in her notebook. Durukti had realized what Kali hadn’t—a conspiracy was brewing around everyone, perpetrated by a man who people should be afraid of, but was unfortunately unknown to all.

  Symrin was just a pawn for that scarred man, a fiddle that’ll be knocked away once her duty was fulfilled. But it also meant that Symrin, who she had simply adored, was a cheater, a liar, and a horrible person. Though all the hatred Durukti had for her had to concealed, otherwise Symrin would run away and the truth will be lost.

  Who is this scarred man? She tried to recall all the conversations, all the history that she had learnt over a period of time. She tried to wonder while she constantly ignored Symrin, whenever she could—sometimes saying she’s busy, sometimes dismissing her, but it was always for a valid reason so Symrin wouldn’t think Durukti was doing all of it on purpose.

  The scarred man was around here, ensuring that everything began and ended at the right moment. He was the one who was orchestrating each and every single move to cause a domino effect. He wanted Kalki out and he wanted Kali ill.

  Durukti recalled the conversation she had had with Kali when he had been ill. He had told her about a dream he had had—the dream or a nightmare, as one may call it which had showed that the reason behind the fire in the village was not the Tribal conflict. It had been a one-man job . . . a tall man with a scar over his forehead.

  Could this person, who Symrin was talking to, be the same person?

  And what was the Eye of Brahma? Durukti had overheard Symrin telling someone about it, but she had no idea of what it was.

  The only way to know more about what Symrin was up to, was to track her movements.

  And that was what she was doing. For days, Durukti had made sure to keep her distance, hiding herself in a black cloak and staying out of sight while following Symrin. Most of the time, Symrin would take a quick turn and when Durukti would follow, there won’t be anyone—or when Symrin disappeared, a boy would be there instead of her. It was like Symrin knew magic, like she could shapeshift if she felt someone was following her. Symrin always managed to dodge Durukti’s gaze, one way or the other, and Durukti had been unable to find out where Symrin was going all the time.

  Today though, Durukti made sure that she was quite far from Symrin, hiding behind a different fabric cloak and doing things on the side, while peering from the corners. She didn’t even have guards to support her. She was ready to take a leap of faith with it and just like that, Symrin didn’t change direction. When she did turn, it was her and no one else. She didn’t shapeshift, perhaps because Durukti was being careful about it.

  Symrin strolled across the marketplace and close to the ravines of the city, passing along the mud houses. She had now reached a building that was Ratri’s library, now helmed by a few other Manavs. Vedanta took care of it mostly, which meant he wasn’t aroun
d, but his men were.

  Durukti saw Symrin entering the library and Durukti entered as well, checking herself in. The library was grand in every sense and had become better than the last time. It had bronze staircases and golden tapestry, paintings by the local painters, and the musty fragrance of paper which was aromatically sensual for Durukti.

  She watched Symrin move up and leave for the end aisle, upstairs. Durukti followed but rather than being in Symrin’s aisle, she went opposite only to see her pull out a book after discussing with the librarian. Durukti could hear a little of what she was saying to her.

  “Thank you for ordering this book for me.”

  “It came after much difficulty. It was out of print.”

  The book was hardbound but rather scorched at the corners. For one hour then, Durukti saw Symrin read it cover to cover and finally when she was done with it, she kept it back from where she had pulled it out.

  As Symrin descended, her eyes fell over to Durukti, who instantly covered her face and began to search books in her aisle, avoiding eye contact. She wished Symrin hadn’t seen her. When Durukti looked from the corner of her eye, she saw that Symrin had vanished.

  Instantly, Durukti walked to the book Symrin had pulled out. She held it open, dropped it on the table, and started flipping the pages. It talked about ancient artifacts in detail—the Sword of Shiva, the Scythe of Yama . . . they were all weapons in some way or the other with scribbled illustrations in black and white, giving a very ancient feel to it. She finally flipped over to find a strange eye symbol on which four Shards of glass had been designed, all joining together to form the design of one eye that had long lashes.

  At the top was written The Eye of Brahma.

  Each Shard represented something or the other. The first Shard represented Past. The middle one said Present. The third one said Future. And the fourth one was the most interesting. It didn’t say anything. It was left incomplete.

  “The Eye of Brahma . . .” she spoke to herself, reading it, “lets you watch the world in all the four ways, as Lord Brahma sees it.” And she read ahead.

  In the beginning of Illavarti when mankind was less in number, animals were more, darkness didn’t exist, and hope filled the world — there was a tribe that included all the other tribes. That tribe was headed by Lord Brahma. They were pious, devoid of temptations and restlessness. They were eternally happy. They all were in love with each other. Lord Brahma, the leader of that group, chose to use his powers for good, protecting his people. But that led him to battle the Demon Kashyapa—the leader of the Daityas, creatures of the underworld. They began to terrorize Lord Brahma and his race. Finally, Kashyapa won and took over Illavarti causing Brahma to lose his governance over his people, who were then divided into five major tribes—Nagas, Rakshas, Gandharvas, Yakshas, Manavs. Brahma lost and chose to leave for heaven, but made sure that like him, future generations would not face this problem of impending doom. He asked Lord Shiva to cut off one of his heads. When Lord Shiva used his sword to do so, Lord Brahma’s head turned into four Shards. The Eye was a gift for mankind. Named the Eye of Brahma, it has been lost ever since and those who find it, are said to be of divine importance themselves. The Shards represent the past, present, future, and —

  The rest of the page was blank. She stopped reading. This just doesn’t make sense. It’s absolutely stupid. This was just a myth. Durukti began to think that there must be some scientific reasoning behind all of it. But then, she had seen what Symrin could do and how the scarred man had once used a shining image of himself to communicate with her—that was in the territory of magic.

  Not all things in this world need reasoning behind it.

  Durukti closed the book. Who could she trust to share this information with? She wanted to talk to Kalki. But he was not here. A gut-wrenching worry soaked her. She just wondered what he was doing. Hell, if he was even alive.

  Arjan . . . Kalki’s brother . . .

  He was in prison. He seemed dependable. She could share it with him, but then, trapped in the four walls, he might not know much.

  What if I help him escape and we can go together to Kalki?

  But where will she find him? She didn’t even know if Kalki was alive. No. It seemed far-fetched. She wanted to see that boy’s face and feel the warmth in her heart again, like a flustered girl.

  “You do realize you don’t do quite well in concealing your identity, Lady Durukti,” a voice softly chided from the back.

  Durukti turned to face the ponytailed girl of thirteen staring back at her with her almond eyes and a cherub face, wearing a lovely gown and clinging to a simple doll.

  It was Urvashi, Vedanta’s daughter.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “This is a library. What do you think?” She winked playfully.

  Durukti felt stupid. “What do you want, Urvashi?”

  “I’m quite curious as to why the king’s sister is looking into her handmaiden’s practices. So much to gossip!” Urvashi clapped her hands, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Quite fascinating, isn’t it?”

  She had said the word ‘king’ as if it was derogatory and it was valid to say it like that because Kali had practically stolen the throne from Vedanta. Though, regardless of that, Durukti had no contempt towards her.

  “I must apologize for Kali’s behaviour . . .”

  “It’s not your fault. Just like the sins committed by my father, which I do not have to worry about.” She smiled. “We are our own individuals and we will be the sum of our failures and our choices will define us. No other person can state it for us, you know.”

  “Absolutely right,” she exclaimed. She hadn’t expected such wisdom from a thirteen-year-old.

  “You should be careful with your handmaiden.”

  She arched her brows. “Why?”

  “Well for one, she is a Vidhyadhara.”

  Of course! Vidhyadharas were magicians trained in the art of disguises and illusions. That’s why she had been able to disguise herself as a blind astrologer when Kali had been attacked.

  “How did you know?”

  “Oh, because I read about them. And also, because I saw her change her shape while you were busy hiding yourself. She suspects foulplay, you know.”

  “Well, she better.”

  “Might I know why you are following her?”

  Durukti noticed the curiosity in the girl and just shrugged. “It shouldn’t matter to you.”

  “Oh well, you are right, Lady Durukti, but you must not underestimate a person like me. I can be quite the help around here.”

  “Why would you want to help me?”

  “Because I’m bored. I need some amusement for myself.”

  Durukti sighed. “You are funny . . .”

  “You want something out of her, right?”

  Durukti narrowed her eyes. “And how did you know that?”

  “It’s evident. You can’t ask her straight thus you are following her. You think there is something sinister going on. Otherwise you could have used your power as the crown’s sister to end your handmaiden’s life who is practically a nobody. That means, your handmaiden has a grip on you and you need a way to do it in such a way that your brother doesn’t find out. It makes me wonder . . . why don’t you tell your sweet brother?” The question was laced with pure sarcasm.

  Durukti nodded. “Because it’s a personal matter.” And I don’t trust him.

  “It’s all right.” She paused. “But if you want my help, do let me know.” And she began to turn around.

  Durukti coughed, “In what way can you help?”

  Urvashi swivelled her head to face Durukti and pulled up the corners of her lips. “I know exactly how to make your handmaiden speak more than she would want to.”

  “How?”

  “Oh, you’ll see.”

  Durukti had thought of Arjan as an ally in this mission. But she had just found an unexpected one. Someone quite young, and who would later turn out to be quite powerf
ul.

  Vedanta had thought that he knew what was best for the city he once used to rule. The iota of religion that Vedanta had managed to seep in was leaving. He had no idea about the other cities of Indragarh, but Indragarh itself had been damaged enough in all spectrums. And he had vowed to finish this tyranny of the so-called King Kali.

  He had thought long and hard, wondering what could be the best way to do it. He thought of possible strategies, read books, and tried to find solutions from the emperors who had ruled before him. But the problem was, none of it showed how one could beat someone empowered by the Somas, which made him think—could he use it to fight Kali?

  No, that’s adulterating myself to substances.

  He didn’t want to be Kali, but to defeat him, he had to become someone like him, perhaps. Even if he thought of going down this path, where will he find more Somas? The stock had been destroyed. Perhaps Kali had hidden some of it. Did he have more?

  Vedanta was getting restless and he had to take the crown back. He had a few soldiers who still respected him, cared for him, and looked up to him. He also had his daughter who he had to take care of.

  To get the city back, the current king must die. A coup must arise.

  And for that, he had to hire more soldiers, and bribe them. But money was an issue and he knew money could only be taken from only one man—Kuvera.

  Vedanta travelled on his horse with two of his soldiers behind as the city watched him. He was moving towards Kuvera’s fort and as he shared glances with the cityfolk, he couldn’t help but remember the time few individuals had dared to stand against him. The rebellion had happened a long time ago, before Urvashi’s birth, when he was with his wife. He was hot in blood, but yet afraid. Fear was always there within him, once he had inherited the throne from his father. He didn’t want anyone to take it away—the helm, the crown. He was so insecure that he had all the people in the rebellion killed. King Vibhisana had assisted these traitors. His father, Vibhishana the first, had ruled one of the greatest cities in Dakshini—Lanka.