The First Aryan

by Paramu Kurumathur

  Vasiṣṭha grew interested. ‘Yes, they mention up to thirty dawns! They have talked about the dawns going around the sky like a potter’s wheel.’

  ‘Sir, what does it mean? Why do they talk about the sun rising only many days after the dawns are seen? And what do they mean when they talk of a long day and night between the dawns?’

  ‘When we were students, we asked our teachers the same questions. We discussed these allusions many times. They were a great puzzle for us. We do not see the described phenomenon in our dawns. We don’t see the long day and night. Maybe the sages were metaphorically referring to something else. Or maybe they were describing actual phenomena that they saw in their time, but which are not apparent to us now. This is indeed a puzzle. But when I was a student, my guru had told us an interesting theory. He had told us that our forefathers had two slaves in their kingdom who were very different from the others. These men were very fair and had yellow hair. Nobody was sure which land they came from, but from what these men could tell our people, they were from a very faraway northern nation and had been captured and sold many times before they landed here. These men had described the conditions in their homeland. They said that it was very cold and that their land was covered with snow most of the time. In the middle of the winter, the sun would not rise for many days at a time, leading to a long night. And that in the middle of the summer, the sun would not set for many days at a time, leading to a long day. They also talked of long dawns going around the horizon for many days before the long day. It is possible that it was these descriptions that some bards of that period had found interesting as a background to some of the hymns. The phenomena described by the slaves must have sounded very strange to them, something the gods could do to show off their skills. Composing these verses may have been their way of acknowledging this.’

  One of the students asked, ‘Sir, is it possible that our ancestors came from one of these distant nations in the north and moved south, over generations, before settling down on the banks of the Sarasvatī, where we are now? Were our ancient bards describing conditions in their, our, ancient home?’

  ‘Well, it is certainly possible. But there is no way to tell for certain. There is not another trace of that previous life.’

  *

  Kaśyapa had reluctantly agreed to go on the hunting trip. Chasing some poor, defenceless creature till it was exhausted and then killing it did not sound to Kaśyapa like a pleasurable activity. He assumed that it was the thrill of the chase that gave the hunters the exhilaration. They started early in the morning, much before the sun rose, at the start of the fifth part of the night. The sky was very clear.

  On their way to the forest, they saw a lot of activity in the villages. Farmers were preparing for the sowing of the first barley crop. It was the day of the ceremonial sowing. Needless to say, they missed most of the excitement of this occasion as their minds were on the hunting. The hunting group included Sudās, Veśa, Yadu, Dīrghaśravas, a few of the warrior nobility, some people of the trading class trailing behind and lots of servants. Kaśyapa and Agastya were the only priests, and understandably, also the least adept of the group at riding horses. It was decided that they would be seated with two of the warriors. They were accompanied by a huge contingent of vicious dogs. Kaśyapa looked back at the dogs and admired them from a distance.

  There were two sets of dogs being commanded by two masters and their servants who helped them look after the dogs. One of the masters told the two boys, ‘These dogs are bred and trained for hunting. Once they bite something—or somebody—they won’t let go. They release their hold only when they get a huge chunk of flesh in their mouths.’

  The hunting forest was about half a yojana to the south-west of the capital. They had to travel parallel and downstream to the Sarasvatī to get there. The servants had reported seeing a herd of deer about a quarter of a yojana further inside the forest and also that there were a couple of tall male deer with big antlers among them. The king and his team spent a good part of the day waiting for the right time, when the wind was just right so that the deer would not smell them from afar. Kaśyapa and Agastya did not have the stomach to go with any of the parties in pursuit of the kill. They knew that they could potentially be a hindrance to the hunters; they were in no mood to face the wrath of the armed men if something went wrong because of them. Instead, they waited for one of the warriors who went with the hunting party to tell them what happened later.

  That night they enjoyed a grand meal prepared by the cooks who had accompanied them. During the meal, Kaśyapa and Agastya were seated on either side of the king. Sudās started the conversation, ‘How is your investigation going? Will you be able to come to some conclusion soon?’

  Kaśyapa gave him a summary of his findings. ‘Yes, sire. I feel that I will be able come to some definite conclusion by the end of the year.’

  The king seemed to be impressed with Kaśyapa’s ability to carry out an investigation all by himself at such a young age. He nodded at Kaśyapa, who then went on, ‘Sire, there are four suspicious deaths and one suspected poisoning. The first death was that of a fellow student of ours, Atharvan. He drowned in the rivulet outside our southern gate. The physicians felt that he may have been drugged and his head held inside the water forcefully. You are already aware of the next three incidents. The death of Kutsa, the attempted poisoning of the queen and, of course, the gruesome murder of Vāyata.’

  ‘Don’t forget the earlier attempt to kidnap Kutsa.’

  ‘Well, the kidnapping attempt was engineered by the former queen. She told us as much.’

  ‘Okay. That makes sense. But you said that there were four deaths. Who was the fourth?’

  ‘A few days ago, we found out that an old man—the father of the northern castle keeper—was found dead after being poisoned. In fact, he died on the day that we left the castle.’

  ‘Of course! That is why you requested that our security be increased.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What about the death of the warrior, the vice commander and my uncle?’

  Kaśyapa understood that the king was just making sure that they did not waste time considering these three murders in their investigations.

  Agastya replied, ‘I suspect that these are political murders and that our murderer may have been unaware of these when he set out to murder Atharvan, considering that the killings happened quite close to each other and he couldn’t possibly have travelled so far so quickly. Somebody would’ve spotted him had he dashed across town in bloodstained clothes at an odd hour.’

  ‘Do you think these other incidents are connected?’

  Kaśyapa said, ‘That is what we are trying to establish. The motive for killing the old man is quite clear. The day we were leaving, he kept telling people that he knew who murdered Vāyata. Of course, none of us took him seriously as he was quite visibly senile. But in his naïveté, he may have walked right up to the killer and said the same thing, who, naturally, decided to eliminate him.’

  ‘Who are your suspects?’

  Kaśyapa told him how they had suspected Vāyata. He outlined the logic by which he and Agastya had reached their conclusions. The king asked, slightly amused at the irony of the events that followed, ‘So, his death might have been a bit inconvenient for you?’

  Agastya said, ‘Yes, sire, very.’

  ‘Do you have a prime suspect now?’

  ‘Well, we have not reached any definite conclusions yet. We do have a few suspects though,’ Kaśyapa said quietly.

  The king said, ‘Sounds good. I think you are making progress. We must find the killer quickly. We can’t be too sure . . . he may strike again.’

  Kaśyapa wanted to tell him about what he thought was an attempt on his life. But he was not sure about bringing this up with the king before he had discussed it with his guru.

  He said, ‘Sire, as you know, you are a key suspect in these murders in the eyes of the common people in the kingdom, especially Kutsa’s and V�
�yata’s. You appear to have the strongest motive, the opportunity as well as the wherewithal and strength to do it.’

  ‘I know that people are talking and hinting at that.’

  Agastya asked, ‘So, how does that make you feel?’

  ‘I am the sovereign of this realm. Before these two murders, in which I am a prime suspect, I was already installed as crown prince. That is all I wanted at the time. I desired no more power. One of my main aims has always been to maintain peace in the kingdom, so that people can go about their lives without worries. A happy kingdom is a prosperous kingdom! But as their king, I think it is my duty to set high standards in my own life first, so that the people are forced to abide by my law. They say, “As the king, so the subjects.” You can rest assured that I did not have a hand in either of these killings. I am not a child killer! I had planned to make him king over a small kingdom when he came of age. Why would I want to wreck the peace of the kingdom by killing my own kinsman? What sort of a king would that make me? As for Vāyata, you know that I do not care which god was accorded superiority. Indra, Varuṇa . . . to me they are all the same. Of course, I have an interest in preserving the current order to avert any rebellion—things seem to be running smoothly under the present system of worship. But I did not think that Vāyata was in any way a threat. So, I had no reason to kill either of these people. As you may remember, that night after dinner I went to the city with Yadu and Dīrghaśravas to gamble a little, purely for the thrill of it. After that I came back directly and went to bed.’

  Kaśyapa asked, ‘Did you go out of your room at any time during that night?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you hear any noises or see anyone?’

  ‘No.’ He could be right, Kaśyapa thought, people would have been very careful while walking by Sudās’s room lest they disturbed him.

  Agastya asked, ‘Did you ask any of your officers to come back to the palace at any time during the night?’

  ‘Good question. No. I had had a meeting with some of the officers and my secretary. After the meeting, they went back to their rooms. You can ask them.’

  Kaśyapa asked, ‘What about Veśa, sire?’

  ‘No, I did not call him at any time during the night.’

  The boys exchanged a meaningful glance. Kaśyapa asked, ‘Sire, who according to you is the primary suspect?’

  ‘It is hard to say. I think it takes real courage and determination to do something so vicious, wilfully kill somebody outside of war. But you never really know. People may react impulsively to situations in ways that may sometimes be very much out of their character. I feel that if there is a common motive, it is not some petty political view.’

  Kaśyapa was not sure if he should ask his next question, but he wanted to be clear. He took some moments to muster up courage. ‘Sire, forgive me for asking this . . . I understand that you were heavily financed by Dīrghaśravas, in your quest to take control of the kingdom. You also received substantial support from the Dasyu king. As part of your pact with him, you were assured that he would support you while you pursued the throne, in the form of finance and material assistance, and even clearing all your debts. Somebody in your palace told us that he once heard Queen Jabālā suggesting to you that you seek her father’s help in settling your debts to the merchant as well. Is this true?’

  ‘Why is that important? What bearing does it have on what you are investigating?’

  ‘Well, sire, it establishes a motive for the merchant to plot against the queen.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The king seemed to have taken offence.

  Agastya said, ‘We must apologize for probing, sire. We are only trying to do the best we can to clear your name. You must be confident about entrusting us with this information. Was it something you were contemplating doing?’

  The king sighed, ‘Yes.’

  Kaśyapa said, ‘If I may ask, sire, did Yadu ask you to marry his daughter?’

  ‘You both are very sharp, indeed. How do you even know all this? And yes, your information is correct.’

  ‘Why did you not marry his daughter?’

  ‘I felt that politically and dynastically it would make more sense to marry the Dasyu king’s daughter.’

  With dinner being served, the conversation ceased. The king soon brought up more comfortable topics, asking Kaśyapa and Agastya about their studies. He then got up to speak to the commander who was sitting on the other side.

  It was almost the second part of the night when they finished eating under the stars. Most of the men were drunk by then. They had all enjoyed the long day of hunting. The remaining meat—venison, buffalo and others—were apportioned among the people in the party so that they could take it home. They then headed back to the capital where they reached towards the fourth part of the night. Kaśyapa and Agastya went straight to bed.

  28

  An Attack on the Queen

  It was the sixteenth day of the month of Saha, the three hundred and twelfth day of the year. The previous night was the new moon of Saha. Kaśyapa woke up that morning with a bad cold, headache and fever. He had been feeling a bit under the weather for the last two days and had even taken some medicine their guru mother had given him. But that morning, his fever felt worse. Kaśyapa went to the kitchen with his blanket still draped around him and told Arundhatī about his condition. She fussed over him and gave him a hot, spiced drink to help reduce the symptoms and suggested that he visit the physician lest the fever was a symptom of something serious.

  Kaśyapa saw Agastya coming in after washing up for his daily sacrifices. Since he was ill, he did not perform his routine sacrifices that day, though he did manage to eat a good breakfast. When Agastya learnt of his condition, he offered to accompany him. So, after breakfast, the two boys went to meet the physician, who examined Kaśyapa and said, ‘Your humours are unbalanced. Your fever is due to that. I will give you some medicines to correct the imbalance. A potion made from the extract of the willow bark will reduce your fever as well as any pain and discomfort. Take these three times a day. I will also give you a salve to apply to your temples and chest.’

  He gave him the medicines in earthen vials. Kaśyapa was sure the medicines would be bitter. Weren’t they always? The salve had a very strong smell. The physician said, ‘When you run out of these medicines, come back to me. I will examine and see whether you need more.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Kaśyapa decided to use this opportunity to ask the physician about poisons. He said, ‘Sir, I’m sure you know that there have been a series of disturbing events in the kingdom, where some kind of poison or drug was involved. First, somebody tried to poison Queen Jabālā to induce her to miscarry. It seems that on the day that we left the northern castle after quelling the vassal kings’ rebellion, an old man who threatened to let out some secrets was also poisoned. My guru, Vasiṣṭha, has asked me to get some information about poisons that we can share with the other students so they can be more careful. I was wondering, don’t all poisons taste bitter? How can you make a person like that old man eat enough poison to kill him?’

  ‘Yes, it is true that most poisons are bitter. They are bitter precisely because they are poisonous. It is a warning to the eater from the plant: “Don’t eat me. I am poisonous.” Most of the wild animals recognize this and avoid bitter plants. But the bitterness of a poison can always be camouflaged with strong spices or herbs, or even through certain methods of preparation. The old man must have been given the poison mixed with some spiced food whose taste was stronger than the poison. The old man may have been too unsuspecting and eaten whatever was given to him, not caring to take notice of the unusual taste.’

  ‘I see. Of course, you must also have heard of the death of the stalwart of Varuṇa worship, Vāyata. He was bludgeoned to death.’

  ‘Yes, I heard.’

  Agastya asked, ‘Sir, what is the function of the brain? Why should a hit to the head cause death? Except for his right ear, all of his body was intact. My teachers have told
me that the brain is a mass of flesh that cushions and nourishes the sensory organs.’

  The physician said, ‘Maybe it is time to change our understanding and teachings about the brain. As a physician, I have found that whenever there is any slight injury to a person’s brain, the person either dies or goes insane. So, the brain may be fulfilling a role much more important than just being a “filler and nourishing mass of flesh”.’

  Kaśyapa said, ‘There indeed was some bleeding, but not enough, in my opinion, to cause death.’

  ‘Yes, it’s possible that he did not die from bleeding. Maybe the killer knew about the inability of the brain to suffer impact, and hence knew what kind of a blow could kill.’

  The two boys thanked the physician and took his leave. As they were walking back home, a messenger came running towards them and told them that their guru wanted to meet Kaśyapa at the king’s palace. They hurried there and found the guru pacing and waiting outside the gates. ‘Good that you brought Agastya along. Somebody entered the king’s palace last night. Queen Jabālā was sleeping in a room with one of her maids, which had been latched from the inside. The person who entered the palace tried to force the latch open.’

  ‘Did anything happen? Is someone hurt?’

  ‘No. Thankfully, the person was not able to break the latch. There were only the two women sleeping there. The maid told Veśa that they did not hear anything. Maybe they were fast asleep too.’