Vasiṣṭha, however, was quick to add, ‘My main worry is the stability of the kingdom. This way, a civil war can be averted. And during your tenure as crown prince, you can even try to bring your opponents over to your side.’
‘Will the king and queen accept this?’
‘The king will accept this. I am sure. He does not want to see his kingdom suffer. The queen will be a problem. She will take a lot of convincing. However, I think I can talk to her and make her see that the alternative is civil war. She will know that if the king loses to you, she and her son will be banished. Through this plan, you are guaranteeing the boy’s safety and kingship for him when he comes of age.’
Sudās was convinced. ‘Sir, I accept your proposal.’
5
Kaśyapa Is Smitten
Kaśyapa was walking back home along the southern wall when he saw the famous courtesan, Ghoṣā, coming into the city in her palanquin. She peered at him and smiled, and then she was gone. Kaśyapa almost swooned with excitement. He was surprised at his own reaction. He had never suspected that something as minor as a smile could incite such an extreme reaction. He simply stopped and stared.
He had seen Ghoṣā many times before. Each time he saw her, his longing for her increased. He had lain awake many a night thinking about her, both out of love and lust. In fact, he was worried that either his guru or his fellow students would catch him in one of these moments of weakness. He knew she was unattainable—he was as good as a dwarf reaching too far above his head for the fruit that hung from a high branch.
But today, she had smiled at him! Poor Kaśyapa. He wanted to convince himself that her smile was no ordinary gesture of courtesy but her way of expressing a romantic interest in him. On a whim, Kaśyapa followed her. Ghoṣā lived near the north gate of the city. He walked behind her palanquin, up the main road that ran from the south gate to the north gate.
About halfway up the main road, almost at the centre of the city, was the main square. A road which ran eastward curved sharply to the south-east, ending at the docks near the south wall. When Kaśyapa reached the square, he looked around. He was worried that someone would report him to his guru. After all, it was not expected of students like him to follow a courtesan!
He continued to walk behind Ghoṣā’s palanquin. Her house was quite close to the intersection where the road leading to the west gate met the main road.
The palanquin turned left towards Ghoṣā’s house. Kaśyapa stopped on the road and kept looking. He saw the bearers setting the palanquin down and then, finally, she stepped out. She turned to look behind her and spotted him standing on the main road! She smiled again. Kaśyapa blushed and panicked. She had seen him! She now knew that he had followed her. Oh! What a shame! Would she tell his guru?
The courtesan’s house was nothing like the other brothels, which were cheap establishments where one went to satisfy carnal desires only. It was more of a gentlemen’s club—Ghoṣā and her girls were not prostitutes who entertained all men for money. Only the most exalted members of society were admitted there. It was also a place where they met other high-class men to drink, exchange information and gossip, and strike important business and political deals. It was commonly said that more deals were struck in the courtesan’s house than in the king’s palace. This was how the main courtesan was in the know of what went on in the kingdom. All this cost money, but many of her clients ended up spending a lot in there. Needless to say, the king taxed the courtesan heavily. Yet, she made sure that the girls were paid well for their services, which included entertaining men with music, dancing and serving them liquor. There were other courtesans also in Parśupur, but Ghoṣā was the most prominent and had the most important customers.
‘She is beautiful, isn’t she?’ said a voice behind him.
Kaśyapa jumped. Dīrghaśravas was standing next to him. He said, ‘I thought you, as students, were supposed to concentrate on your studies and not sniff around women or follow them.’
Kaśyapa was embarrassed. Yes, it was true that they were not supposed to allow themselves the luxury of giving into romantic or carnal thoughts, let alone act on those impulses. And here he was, caught eyeing the voluptuous beauty of the courtesan.
‘Don’t be embarrassed. You are not the only one to fall for her. She burns the hearts, and certainly the loins, of the most powerful and mighty. It is amusing to see that those who control army divisions, those who boast of possessing a direct line to the gods, their students and the most artistic of people, all succumb to the charm of this wonderful lady.’
Kaśyapa replied mischievously, ‘Not to mention the wealthiest who, in a single day, trade in goods whose worth is sufficient to feed and clothe hundreds of people for their whole lifetime.’
‘Well said. We merchants do indeed fall for her and seek her favours.’
With this, Dīrghaśravas left. Kaśyapa was worried that he would tell people about him ogling the courtesan. There was no denying that Kaśyapa was clearly smitten, but he also knew that she was not for him. He knew the kind of lifestyle she led. His guru had always warned his students about love and lust. He had said that while it was natural to have such thoughts, as students they should focus on their studies instead of such temptations.
*
One of Bhārgava’s passions was to help children from the priestly class, whose families had been ostracized from the community for some transgression or the other. He felt that even if a child’s parents were ostracized, the child deserved a chance to redeem his or her social status and dignity. If a person was ostracized, there really was no provision that would allow them or their descendants to be integrated into society again. Bhārgava felt that there should be a way. He therefore spent one or two days every month giving these children basic and advanced education. At least that way they would be able to serve society and have a shot at being taken back. Education, he felt, would give them a chance to make something of themselves. Fearing that Bhārgava would expose the children to just one aspect, that of Indra’s supremacy, Vāyata too had decided to do the same. So, the children of the ostracized priestly class families had not one, but two teachers—a luxury that ordinary children did not have. Of course, this community service had to be done secretly, since the elders did not approve of any contact with the ostracized people.
That day, on the fifteenth day of the month of Tapa and of the year, Bhārgava asked Kaśyapa and Agastya to accompany him when he went to teach the children. He wanted them to give the children lessons in astronomy and tell them more about plants. He swore them to secrecy. The three of them walked towards the south gate. Kaśyapa remembered with longing that it was here that he had seen the courtesan three days ago. But he quickly suppressed the thought.
On their way, they met Aṅgiras, a student of Jaraduṣṭra, but a good friend of Kaśyapa’s. They spent some time talking about the happenings in the city but soon got into an argument over the question of Indra and Varuṇa’s supremacy. The discussion became more and more animated.
Aṅgiras said, ‘The other key thing is that we need to become more moral and ethical. Our master says that Varuṇa waits with a noose for those who defy his code of moral living.’
Bhārgava said, ‘Okay, I heard him that day when he came to visit our guru and, I must say, somebody needs to control your master from spreading these strange ideas. I have just been wondering why my guru is not doing it.’
‘I am sure he is talking to my master. Your guru does not want anything that is not in accordance with the established traditions to prosper. The king is also against us. Desiring any change in the established order is also, indirectly, a defiance of the king’s order.’
‘I wonder why my guru is not using any esoteric rituals to control your master and his followers’ minds. I know that the esoteric sciences are powerful enough to control anybody’s mind.’
‘Well, my master is against all these esoteric sciences, which, in turn, means that he believes they don’t work ag
ainst you if you don’t let them. The whole idea of esoteric practices is against the natural order of Varuṇa and the ethical and moral principles established by him.’
‘But why can’t you use the esoteric sciences to curb anti-establishment activities? When the stability of the kingdom is threatened, drastic actions are needed. Any unethical acts should be controlled by the esoteric sciences, shouldn’t they?’
Kaśyapa intervened here. ‘But they say that you should use the esoteric sciences only for the good of people and not to kill inconvenient ideas.’
Here, Aṅgiras left them and they went out of the gate. Across the rivulet outside the gate, there were unused patches of ground on either side of the southern road. On the left side of this road, about 1000 pauruṣas from the gate, was Bhārgava’s garden. Bhārgava was an avid gardener and had repurposed this piece of land to pursue his interest. He used his garden as a makeshift school.
As they approached the garden, they could see farmers reaping and gathering the first barley crop. Though they walked on one side of the road, yet the driver of an ox-cart carrying the special wood used for worship to the sacrificial field shooed them further to the side. The road near the gate was crowded. Another ox-cart went by—it was loaded with animal fodder. The drivers’ whips made a twanging noise as they urged the beasts forward.
Kaśyapa became very angry at the sight of such exploitation. ‘Will these animals never be freed from their bondage to man?’
Agastya responded with a helpless laugh, ‘They make slaves of humans. And you are talking of animals?’
While they were walking away from the gate, Kaśyapa casually plucked a leaf off a bush growing on the side. Agastya shouted, ‘Drop that leaf! That bush is poisonous.’
Kaśyapa immediately dropped the leaf. He knew better than to doubt Agastya’s knowledge of plants and herbs but wondered why nobody had cut down that bush. He looked at the road cleaners who were scooping up the ox and horse dung and watering the road to settle the dust. If they didn’t do that, the air would become very dusty because of the constant traffic.
This was the first time that Kaśyapa and Agastya had seen Bhārgava’s garden. They were excited. They walked around in it and sat down among the plants. He had planted flowering plants as well as vegetables and many herbs. Kaśyapa asked, ‘Is it from here that you sometimes bring fruits for our guru? You have kept this garden a well-guarded secret.’
‘Yes,’ Bhārgava said, beaming.
Meanwhile, about ten children of various ages had gathered. They were sitting on a small patch of grass at the far end, away from where people could see them from the road. Their faces were eager. Kaśyapa felt sorry for them. After all, it was not their fault that their families had been ostracized. Agastya and he talked to the children and found that Bhārgava had done a good job tutoring them. They knew all the subjects that they should have known at their age and seemed to be very happy and proud about being as competent as their more fortunate counterparts from the city. Of course, they were too young to understand what it meant to belong to a small community of families who had been shunned to live on the outskirts.
Kaśyapa gave them an introductory lesson in astronomy, while Agastya told them about some of the plants that grew in the kingdom. Bhārgava then took them through some of their regular lessons. On the whole, they spent about two parts of the day with the students.
Suddenly, Bhārgava turned to Kaśyapa and Agastya and said, ‘Do you know that Vāyata also teaches these youngsters?’
‘What?’ Kaśyapa couldn’t believe it.
‘Yes. He is worried that if these children only hear from me, they will be exposed to only one kind of story, that of Indra’s supremacy. He teaches them in the small hall in the village of the ostracized families.’
‘You are both doing a good thing. Many may oppose you. But I think our guru, even if he found out about this, would offer his silent support.’
Bhārgava said, ‘Yes. After all, these children are Aryans.’
*
That evening, their guru had arranged for all the students to come outdoors after dark so that Kaśyapa could talk to them about astronomy. This was one of Kaśyapa’s greatest interests and he was well informed on the subject. Vasiṣṭha always encouraged students to share their knowledge.
It was the beginning of the second part of the new-moon night. It was cold but clear. Kaśyapa was not going to let such a chance to gaze at the sky go waste. He enjoyed identifying the stars and planets. All of them gathered and looked to the north, at the point around which many of the northern stars seemed to go around, like the pole of a wheel.
Kaśyapa said, ‘I have always wondered why the gods have not placed a star at that pole. It seems natural that there should be one there. Our guru had once told us during one of our night-time lessons in astronomy that, according to an ancient belief, there used to be a star there once, but it has since moved away. They also believe that one day, many, many generations hence, there will be a star just as close to the pole and it will be almost immobile.’
The other students were impressed with Kaśyapa’s knowledge. To the left of that vacant point, they saw the Seven Sages. All except one star were very bright. The formation looked like the ladle they used at home, with four stars forming the bowl and three its handle. The bowl was near the horizon. The second star in the handle—the double star—was quite close to the North Pole.
One of the students pointed this out to the group.
Kaśyapa said, ‘Yes, that star is quite close to the pole. However, there is a star which is even nearer—that faint one you see there? That one is the nearest to the North Pole.’ He pointed at it but the other students could not see it.
‘Look at the two inner stars of the Seven Sages constellation. Now, look at the star that is pointed at by these two inner stars. Can you see it?’
‘I think I can,’ said one of the students and the rest seemed to agree.
‘This is even closer to the pole than the other bright one in the handle of the constellation.’
One of the students asked, ‘While teaching us one of our ancient poems, the guru had said that our ancestors left behind memories of the early age when Indra smashed Vṛtra and released the waters. These memories speak of another faint star near the pole during that time. Which one is that?’
Kaśyapa was not very sure, but said, ‘I think our ancestors have left behind a vague memory of drawing a line from Svātī in the northern skies, passing through the two nearby stars and extending this line to get to that particular star.’ He drew the line from Svātī with his fingers to reach that star. ‘I think this is the one. Can you see it?’
‘I thought only planets changed their positions. I find it difficult to believe that the stars can change their positions too,’ said one excited student.
‘So do I,’ chirped another.
So did Kaśyapa!
He reminded the students of what their guru had told them a few nights ago about the star Jyeṣṭhā, though it was not visible at that moment.
‘Jyeṣṭhā is just north of the imaginary celestial circle going from east to west. Our poetic records tell us that there was a time when Jyeṣṭhā was further north in the sky. It has, over the centuries, moved southward. Our sages surmise that over the next century or two, Jyeṣṭhā will move to the south of this imaginary circle.’
One of the students said, ‘Well, our sages have said that everything is cyclic. So, even though Jyeṣṭhā will move south, a few thousand years thence it will move north again! The same way, I believe that many thousand years hence, the star that was once near the pole will become the Pole Star again.’
Kaśyapa could not agree more.
6
Kaśyapa Starts Investigating
It was the fifth day of the month of Tapasya, the thirty-fifth day of the year. It was the day after Atharvan’s body was found. After their morning rituals and lessons, Kaśyapa caught hold of Agastya and told him about t
he commission he had received from their guru.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ Agastya asked.
‘I want you to help me find the killer. You will be an additional pair of eyes and ears. And an additional mind to help me figure things out. Our guru has agreed to you helping me.’
Agastya did not show any false modesty. He simply agreed. ‘Oh! I will be glad to help you. We can learn from each other.’
‘Yes. Remember, we are telling everyone that it is a suicide.’
Their first stop was the house of the physician who had examined Atharvan’s body. Of course, they could not hide anything from him!
Kaśyapa said, ‘Sir, our guru, Vasiṣṭha, has asked me to understand the details of what he considers to be an unnatural death of our fellow student who was found dead yesterday in the rivulet outside the south gate. He wants to know why he was killed and who killed him so we can tell the student’s parents the whole truth.’
The physician said, ‘I told the king’s officers all my inferences yesterday. What more do you want to know?’
‘You were called to the scene by the king’s officer, were you not?’
‘Yes.’
‘When you examined the body, what did you see and infer?’
‘Well, as I told your guru at the site where he was found, it was obvious that he did not commit suicide. Nobody can commit suicide in that fashion because it is impossible to hold one’s own head under water and drown. The body will struggle to be able to breathe. Of course, if he had been a great sage who had mastered self-control, he could have managed it. But he was just a boy. When I reached the place, he was lying on his back. I was told that he was found with his head in the water. Somebody had turned his body over.’
‘That was me. I turned the body over. I was not sure whether he was dead or not. Agastya, here, had gone to inform our guru.’
Agastya asked, ‘So, are you implying that someone held his head under water?’
‘Yes. Somebody must have. It would have been easy too since he appeared to be drugged.’
The First Aryan Page 5