Scion of Ikshvaku (Ram Chandra Series) FlyLeaf.ORG

by Amish Tripathi

  ‘Exactly,’ said Arishtanemi.

  ‘And if the Ekam is beyond all this, how can He pick a side?’ asked Ram. ‘If He is beyond form then how can He have a preference for any one form? He can, therefore, never belong to any one specific group. He belongs to all, and at the same time, to none. And this is not just applicable to human beings but to every created entity in the universe: animals, plants, water, earth, energy, stars, space, everything. Regardless of what they do or think or believe, all created entities belong to, and are drawn from, the Ekam.’

  Arishtanemi nodded. ‘This fundamental misunderstanding between our world of forms, and the Ekam’s formless world, makes them believe in the lie that my God is the true God and your God is a false God. Just like a wise human will have no preference for his kidneys over his liver, the One God will not pick one group over another. It’s stupid to even think otherwise.’

  ‘Exactly!’ said Ram. ‘If He is my God, if He picks my side over someone else’s, He is not the One God. The only true One God is the one who picks no sides, who belongs to everything, who doesn’t demand loyalty or fear; in fact, who doesn’t demand anything at all. Because the Ekam just exists; and His existence allows for the existence of all else.’

  Arishtanemi was beginning to respect this wise young prince of Ayodhya. But he was afraid to admit this to Vishwamitra.

  Ram continued. ‘Shukracharya was right in wanting to create a perfect masculine society. Such a society is efficient, just, and honourable. The mistake he made was that he based it on faith. He should have built it purely on laws, keeping the spiritual separate from the material. When times change, as they inevitably do, one finds it impossible to give up on one’s faith; in fact, one clings to it with renewed vigour. Difficult times make men cling to their faith even more strongly. But if you base a masculine way of life on laws, then, possibly, when needed, the laws can be changed. The masculine way of life should be built on laws, not faith.’

  ‘Do you actually believe that it is possible to save the Asuras? There are many of them in India. Hidden in small groups, but they are there.’

  ‘I think they will make disciplined followers. Certainly better than the rebellious, law-breaking people I call my own. The problem with the Asuras is that their laws are obsolete. The people are good; what they need is enlightened and effective leadership.’

  ‘Do you think you can be that leader? Can you create a new way of life for them?’

  Ram inhaled deeply. ‘I don’t know what role fate has in store for me but—’

  Lakshman cut in. ‘Guru Vashishta believes Ram Dada can be the next Vishnu. He will not just provide leadership for the Asuras, but everyone; all of India. I believe that too. There is nobody like Ram Dada.’

  Ram looked at Lakshman, his face inscrutable.

  Arishtanemi leaned back, sucking in a deep breath. ‘You are a good man; in fact, a special man. And I can certainly see that you will play an important role in history. Though what exactly, I do not know.’

  Ram’s face remained expressionless.

  ‘My suggestion to you is to listen to Maharishi Vishwamitra,’ said Arishtanemi. ‘He is the wisest and most powerful among the rishis today, bar none.’

  Ram didn’t react, though his face hardened imperceptibly.

  ‘Bar none,’ repeated Arishtanemi for emphasis, clearly referring to Vashishta.

  The group rode unhurriedly through the jungle. Vishwamitra and Arishtanemi rode in front, at the head of the caravan, right behind the cart cradling the heavy trunk. Ram and Lakshman had been asked to ride at the back, with the rest of the Malayaputras marching on foot. It would take a few hours for them to reach the ships anchored on the Ganga.

  Vishwamitra beckoned Arishtanemi with a nod. He immediately pulled the reins to the right and drew close.

  ‘So?’ asked Vishwamitra.

  ‘He knows,’ said Arishtanemi. ‘Maharishi Vashishta has told him.’

  ‘Why, that conniving two-faced upstart; that rootless piece of…’

  Arishtanemi kept his gaze pinned to the distance as Vishwamitra vented his fury. It was followed by a charged silence. Finally the disciple gathered the courage to ask, ‘So, what do we do now, Guruji?’

  ‘We will do what we have to do.’

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  Chapter 19

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  Ram and Lakshman stood on the deck of the lead vessel as the three-ship convoy sailed smoothly down the Ganga. Vishwamitra chose to stay ensconced in his cabin for most of the trip. Arishtanemi made the most of this opportunity; the Ayodhya princes aroused inordinate interest in this Malayaputra.

  ‘How are the princes doing today?’ asked Arishtanemi, as he approached them.

  Ram had washed his long hair and left it loose, struggling to dry it in the sultry air.

  ‘Suffering in this oppressive heat,’ said Lakshman.

  Arishtanemi smiled. ‘It has only just begun. The rains are months away. It’ll get worse before it gets better.’

  ‘Which is why we are on the open deck; any draught is a gift from the Gods!’ said Lakshman, as he dramatically fanned his face with his hands. Many had gathered on the deck, seeking a brief, post-lunch break before descending to the lower deck and on to their assigned tasks.

  Arishtanemi stepped closer to Ram. ‘I was surprised by what you said about our ancestors. Are you against the Devas?’

  ‘I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,’ said Ram, with a sense of wry inevitability.

  ‘Well, you can stop wondering now.’

  Ram laughed. ‘I’m not against the Devas. We are their descendants, after all. But I am an admirer of the way of the masculine, a life of laws, obedience, honour and justice. I prefer and advocate it as opposed to a life of freedom without end.’

  ‘There is more to the way of the feminine than just passion and freedom, prince,’ Arishtanemi said. ‘There is unbridled creativity as well.’

  ‘That, I concede; but when civilisation goes into decline, the people of the feminine are prone to divisiveness and victim-mongering. In the middle ages of the Devas, the caste system, which was originally based on karma and not birth, became rigid, sectarian and politicised. This allowed the Asuras to easily defeat them. When the later Devas reformed and made the caste system flexible again, they regained their strength and defeated the Asuras.’

  ‘Yes, but the masculine way can also become rigid and fanatical when such a society goes into a decline. That the Asuras relentlessly attacked the Devas, just because the Devas had a different interpretation of the Ekam, was inexcusable.’

  ‘I agree. But didn’t these attacks unite the Devas? Maybe the Devas should acknowledge the few positives that emerged from that horrific violence. They were forced to confront the evil that the caste system had descended into; they needed unity. In my opinion, the most important reform that Lord Indra was able to carry out was making the caste system flexible once again. The united later-age Devas finally defeated the Asuras, who lost because of their fanatical rigidity.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that the Devas should be grateful to the Asuras for all that brutal violence?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ said Ram. ‘What I’m suggesting is that some good can emerge from the most horrific of events. There is something positive hidden in every negative, and something negative hidden in every positive. Life is complicated, and a balanced person can see both sides. For instance, can you deny that, with the Asura experience long forgotten, the caste system has become rigid once again? A man’s status in society today is determined by his birth and not his karma. Will you deny that this evil is ravaging the vitals of the modern Sapt Sindhu?’

  ‘All right!’ said Lakshman. ‘Enough of this philosophical stuff; you will make my head explode!’

  Arishtanemi laughed uproariously, while Ram gazed indulgently at Lakshman.

  ‘Thankfully, this will all end as soon as we disembark at Ayodhya,’ said Lakshman.

  ‘Uhh,’ said Arish
tanemi. ‘There may be a little delay, prince.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Ram.

  ‘Guru Vishwamitra intends to visit Mithila en route to Ayodhya. He has an important mission there as well.’

  ‘When were you planning to tell us about this?’ asked Lakshman, irritated.

  ‘I’m telling you now,’ said Arishtanemi.

  Signalling Lakshman to be patient, Ram said, ‘It’s all right, Arishtanemiji. Our father commanded us to remain with Guru Vishwamitra till he sees fit. A delay of a few months will not harm us in any way.’

  ‘Mithila…’ groaned Lakshman. ‘It’s the back of beyond!’

  Unlike most big cities of the Sapt Sindhu, Mithila, the city for the sons of the soil or the city founded by King Mithi, was not a river-town; at least not after the Gandaki River had changed course westwards a few decades ago. This altered the fate of Mithila dramatically. From being counted among the great cities of the Sapt Sindhu, it speedily declined. Most trade in India was conducted through riverine ports. With Gandaki turning its face away, Mithila’s fortunes collapsed overnight. Raavan’s nifty traders withdrew the appointed sub-traders from Mithila; the miniscule volume of trade simply didn’t justify their presence anymore.

  The city was ruled by King Janak, a devout, decent and spiritual man. He was a classic example of a good man, albeit not for the job at hand. Had Janak chosen to be a spiritual guru, he would have been among the finest in the world. However, fate had decreed that he would be king. Even as a monarch, he assiduously guided the spiritual growth of his people through his dharma sabhas, or spiritual gatherings. Material growth and security, though, had been severely neglected.

  To add to Mithila’s woes, power within the royal family had decidedly shifted to Janak’s younger brother, Kushadhwaj. The Gandaki River’s new course skirted the border of Sankashya, whose ruler was Kushadhwaj. Mithila’s loss was Sankashya’s gain. Easy availability of water led to a boom in trade as well as a dramatic increase in the population of Sankashya. Armed with the heft of both money and numbers, Kushadhwaj made moves to establish himself as the representative of his royal family within the Sapt Sindhu. Careful to maintain appearances, he remained outwardly deferential towards his saintly elder brother. Despite this, rumours abounded that this was just a charade; that Kushadhwaj plotted to absorb Mithila and bring it under his own rule.

  ‘That’s where we’re headed, Lakshman, if that is what Guruji wants,’ said Ram. ‘We will need an escort from Sankashya, right? I have heard that there are no proper roads that lead to Mithila from Sankashya.’

  ‘There used to be one,’ said Arishtanemi. ‘It was washed away when the river changed course. There were no efforts made to rebuild it. Mithila is … short of funds. But their prime minister has been informed and she has arranged for an escort party.’

  ‘Is it true that King Janak’s daughter is his prime minister?’ asked Lakshman. ‘We found that hard to believe. Is her name Urmila?’

  ‘Why is it hard to believe that a woman could be prime minister, Lakshman?’ Ram asked, before Arishtanemi could reply. ‘Women are equal to men in mental abilities.’

  ‘I know, Dada,’ said Lakshman. ‘It’s unusual, that’s all.’

  ‘Lady Mohini was a woman,’ continued Ram. ‘And she was a Vishnu. Remember that.’

  Lakshman fell silent.

  Arishtanemi touched Lakshman’s shoulder in a kindly way as he said, ‘You are right, Prince Lakshman. King Janak’s daughter is his prime minister. But it’s not Princess Urmila, who incidentally is his biological daughter. It’s his adopted daughter who is the prime minister.’

  ‘Adopted daughter?’ asked Ram, surprised. Adopted children were rarely given equal rights in India these days. He had it in mind to set this right by changing the law.

  ‘Yes,’ said Arishtanemi.

  ‘I wasn’t aware of that. What’s her name?’

  ‘Her name is Sita.’

  ‘Are we not going to meet the king of Sankashya?’ asked Ram.

  Vishwamitra’s ships had docked at the port of Sankashya, a few kilometres from the city. They were met by officials from Mithila, led by Samichi, the police and protocol chief of the city. Samichi and her team would lead a small band of one hundred Malayaputras to Mithila. The others would remain aboard the anchored ships.

  ‘No,’ said Arishtanemi, as he mounted his horse. ‘Guru Vishwamitra would prefer to pass this town incognito. In any case, King Kushadhwaj is travelling right now.’

  Lakshman surveyed the simple white garments that Ram and he had been asked to wear. Clearly, the princes were supposed to pass off as commoners.

  ‘Incognito?’ asked Lakshman, his suspicions immediately aroused as he sceptically gazed upon the Malayaputra party. ‘You could have fooled me.’

  Arishtanemi smiled and squeezed his knees; his horse began to move. Ram and Lakshman mounted their horses and followed him. Vishwamitra had already left, at the head of the convoy, accompanied by Samichi.

  The pathway through the jungle was so narrow that only three horses could ride abreast. At some spots glimpses of an old cobble-stoned road would emerge where the pathway suddenly got broader. For the most part though, the jungle had aggressively reclaimed the land. Often, the convoy rode single file for long stretches.

  ‘You have not visited Mithila, have you?’ asked Arishtanemi.

  ‘There was never any need to go there,’ answered Ram.

  ‘Your brother Bharat did visit Sankashya a few months ago.’

  ‘He is in charge of diplomatic relations for Ayodhya. It’s natural that he would meet with kings from across the Sapt Sindhu.’

  ‘Oh? I thought he may have visited King Kushadhwaj for a marriage alliance.’

  Lakshman frowned. ‘Marriage alliance? If Ayodhya wanted a marriage alliance, it would be with one of the more powerful kingdoms. Why ally with Sankashya?’

  ‘Nothing prevents you from forming multiple marriage alliances. After all, some say marriages are a way to build political alliances by strengthening personal ties.’

  Lakshman cast a furtive glance at Ram.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Arishtanemi, following Lakshman’s gaze. ‘You disagree?’

  Lakshman butted in. ‘Ram Dada believes marriage is sacred. It should not be treated as a political alliance.’

  Arishtanemi raised his eyebrows. ‘That was the way it was in the ancient world, yes. Nobody really believes in those values anymore.’

  ‘I’m not a fan of everything that our ancestors did,’ said Ram. ‘But some practices are worth reviving. One of them is looking upon marriage as a sacred partnership between two souls; not as a political alliance between two power centres.’

  ‘You are, perhaps, among the very few people who think this way.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean that I am wrong.’

  Lakshman interrupted the conversation again. ‘Dada also believes that a man must marry only one woman. He believes that polygamy is unfair to women and must be banned.’

  ‘That’s not exactly what I believe, Lakshman,’ said Ram. ‘I say that the law must be equal for all. If you allow a man to marry many women, then you should also allow a woman to marry many men if she so chooses. What is wrong is that the current law favours men. Polygamy is allowed but polyandry is not. That is simply wrong. Having said that, my personal preference is for a man to find one woman, and remain loyal to her for the rest of his life.’

  ‘I thank Lord Brahma that your preference doesn’t extend to a man being loyal to the same woman for many lifetimes!’ Arishtanemi chuckled.

  Ram smiled.

  ‘But Prince Ram,’ said Arishtanemi, ‘I’m sure you must be aware that polygamy as a practice rose a few centuries ago with good reason. We had survived the fifty-year war between the Suryavanshis and the Chandravanshis. Millions of men died. There were simply not enough bridegrooms left, which is why men were encouraged to marry more than one woman. Quite frankly, we also needed to repopulate our country. Thereafter,
more and more people began to practice polygamy.’

  ‘Yes, but we don’t have that problem now, do we?’ asked Ram. ‘So why should men continue to be allowed this privilege?’

  Arishtanemi fell silent. After a few moments, he asked Ram, ‘Do you intend to marry only one woman?’

  ‘Yes. And I will remain loyal to her for the rest of my life. I will not look at another woman.’

  ‘Dada,’ said Lakshman, grinning slyly, ‘how can you avoid looking at other women? They’re everywhere! Are you going to shut your eyes every time a woman passes by?’

  Ram laughed. ‘You know what I mean. I will not look at other women the way I would look at my wife.’

  ‘So, what are you looking for in a woman?’ asked Arishtanemi, intrigued.

  Ram was about to start speaking when Lakshman promptly jumped in. ‘No. No. No. I have to answer this.’

  Arishtanemi looked at Lakshman with an amused grin.

  ‘Dada had once said,’ continued Lakshman, ‘that he wants a woman who can make him bow his head in admiration.’

  Lakshman smiled proudly as he said this. Proud that he knew something so personal about his elder brother.

  Arishtanemi cast a bemused look at Ram and smiled. ‘Bow your head in admiration?’

  Ram had nothing to say.

  Arishtanemi looked ahead. He knew a woman who Ram would almost certainly admire.

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  Chapter 20

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  Vishwamitra and his entourage reached Mithila a week later. Being a fertile, marshy plain that received plentiful monsoonal rain, the land around Mithila was productive beyond measure. It was said that all a Mithila farmer needed to do was fling some seeds and return a few months later to harvest the crop. The land of Mithila would do the rest. But since the farmers of Mithila had not cleared too much land or flung too many seeds, the forest had used the bounty of nature and created a dense barrier all around the city. The absence of a major river added to its isolation. Mithila was cut off from most other Indian cities, which were usually accessed by river.