The First Aryan

by Paramu Kurumathur

‘We will establish that without Indra, the order established by Varuṇa is meaningless. Indra is indeed king.’

  The person elected to lead the Varuṇa group spoke, but he was clearly not very confident about making his point in front of the assembly, especially in light of the fate which had befallen three of his seniors. Concluding his point, he said, ‘Sir, the great Asura and Aditya, Varuṇa is the king of the world order. Our ancestors have, in their praises to the gods, called Varuṇa the “king” more often than all other gods. He is certainly at a higher plane than Indra—while Indra kills enemies, Varuṇa always protects the order. Law and order are the highest principles, and hence Varuṇa is the highest force that determines what must take place. Indra is also a creature of this world order, is he not? If he killed Vṛtra, it is because Varuṇa ordained so. The rivers flow as ordained by Varuṇa, the dawns shine forth, the fire burns, all as ordained by Varuṇa. Where is the doubt then? Varuṇa is indeed king.’

  The moderator then pointed at Kaśyapa to present his view.

  ‘Indra was king long before the concept of Varuṇa and the world order emerged. The world order is only a way of codifying the heroic deeds of Indra and others that have helped to suppress evil forces. The ordainment that the rivers should flow could come only after Indra had released the waters. Our ancestors have said:

  When, Indra, thou hast slain the dragon’s firstborn and overcome the charms of the enchanters, Then, giving life to Sun and Dawn and Heaven, thou foundest not one foe to stand against thee.26

  Order can be established only in the absence of evil forces.’

  It was then the chance of the second person from the Varuṇa side.

  ‘How can Indra wield the thunderbolt when it or indeed he had not been created yet? Is it not Varuṇa who created the rule by which the thunderbolt could move?’

  I made to flow the moisture-shedding waters, and set the heaven firm in the scat of Order.

  By Law the Son of Aditi, Law Observer, hath spread abroad the world in threefold measure.’27

  The debater from the Varuṇa side continued. ‘The different phenomena associated with the different gods are all connected together through a common thread—a thread that Varuṇa himself has fashioned.’

  ‘Our ancestors have sung more often, much more often, about Indra than about Varuṇa. Does this not tell us something? Our ancestors felt that clearly Indra was more worthy of mention than Varuṇa. Are we claiming to know more than our ancestors? Only fools and people with inflated egos will do this . . .’

  At this the moderator held up his hand indicating that there should be no personal attacks. Indra’s defendant continued, ‘I am sorry, sir. As I was saying, our ancestors, through generations of analysis, have found that this so-called world order has no meaning without an entity to enforce it.’

  ‘The order does not need any enforcers. The so-called enforcer is himself obliged to abide by the order. Only idiots cannot see this . . .’

  Again, the moderator’s hand came up.

  ‘Sorry, sir, but our ancestors have also said:

  I am the royal Ruler, mine is empire, as mine who sway all life are all Immortals.

  Varuṇa’s will the Gods obey and follow. I am the King of men’s most lofty cover.28

  ‘And one of the sure signs of the decadence of the system of Indra worship is the flawed system of sacrifices. The sacrifices that we now follow with animal sacrifices and libation of soma has reached a level of immorality that needs to be corrected. Only Varuṇa worship can rectify this system.’

  ‘Did not our poets say about Indra:

  All beings know these deeds of thine thou tellest this unto Varuṇa, thou great Disposer!

  Thou art renowned as having slain the Vṛtras. Thou madest flow the floods that were obstructed.29

  ‘It should be remembered that all of us, of the priestly class, have been fed and fattened only because of the system of sacrifices, which people need us to perform. Let us not be hypocrites. We need the sacrifices to thrive. Indra worship ensures that the children of the priestly class can eat every day.’

  ‘Sir, one of the debaters on the other side said that our ancestors have talked more often about Indra than Varuṇa, to which I say, quality is more important than quantity. What our ancestors have said about Varuṇa paints him as much more striking and influential than anything that has been written about Indra. Surely, this has some bearing:

  I am King Varuṇa. To me were given these first existing high celestial powers.

  Varuṇa’s will the Gods obey and follow. I am the King of men’s most lofty cover.’30

  The debate continued and, at times, became very acrimonious. But the steady hand of the moderator prevented any untoward incident like the last time. He soon indicated that it was time to sum up. Kaśyapa was asked to sum up for the Indra group.

  ‘The supremacy of Indra has been accepted for generations. Our ancestors knew what was important and followed this path for a reason, which is not for us to question. Order and laws have no meaning unless there is an enforcer. The order and laws are only a way of codifying suppression of the evil forces. Hence, the supremacy now accorded to Indra should continue. We should remember that people like us, people of the priestly class, are dependent on the sacrifices for their living.’

  The moderator indicated that the Varuṇa group should conclude. Bhārgava got up. The moderator indicated that it was the turn of the Varuṇa group.

  Bhārgava said, ‘Sir, I want to speak for the Varuṇa group.’

  Vasiṣṭha and the moderator and indeed, all of the debaters, were taken aback. The Varuṇa group leader then stepped in to endorse his support, ‘Sir, we would like to nominate Bhārgava to talk on our behalf. We want him to be our leader,’

  It suddenly came back to Kaśyapa. Bhārgava had requested that he be instructed formally on the Varuṇa religion. Even before that, he seemed to have held sympathy for the ideals of Jaraduṣṭra. Bhārgava now had the opportunity to take on the leadership of the Varuṇa school of thought. And he jumped at the opportunity! He said, ‘Sir, our guru has given us a very liberal education. He told us things and taught us how to analyse information, and I am thankful to him, for he never imposed his views on us. I have used the techniques of analysis and thought which he taught us and I have found the Varuṇa system to be the morally loftier system. I do understand why Guru Vasiṣṭha wants the current system to continue and I have, as his student, gone along with him and his views thus far. However, from now on, I cannot, in good conscience continue to uphold Indra worship. The Varuṇa group is ready to anoint me as their leader and I would like to accept this honour. I will now conclude the debate on its behalf.’

  He presented his summary, which was essentially about the importance of order and law and the immorality of sacrifice, with such eloquence as if being made leader was just what he needed to truly emerge as a priest. Kaśyapa began to join the dots to trace the road which led to this act of open defiance, thinking back to some of the things Bhārgava had said recently. But before he could get far enough, it was time for the overnight sacrifice to start.

  34

  The Killer

  The overnight sacrifice started. The soma pressings and other rituals were beginning; this would go on throughout the night. Most of the important people in Parśupur, and many from around the kingdom had come to witness the closing ceremonies of the year-long Cows’ Walk sacrificial session. The king, Sudās, was present, as was Vasiṣṭha’s wife and other prominent women of the kingdom. Jabālā, since she was pregnant, was not there. Kaśyapa sat next to Arundhatī in case she needed any help.

  However, Kaśyapa’s mind was elsewhere. He was still thinking about the debate, recovering from the shock of the sudden shift in Bhārgava’s loyalty. Sure, the signs were all there. Bhārgava had kept these leanings carefully confined to a very small number of people, but the fact that he had already been indoctrinated into the Varuṇa group, and with Jaraduṣṭra fleein
g, and the deaths of Vāyata and Aṅgiras, meant Bhārgava could easily become the leader of the group. A shudder ran down his spine as Kaśyapa realized in a moment of immense clarity—here was the missing piece of the puzzle!

  It had got to the fourth part of the night and oblations for the final bit of the overnight sacrifice were being made in the form of an animal sacrifice. A goat was to be killed and offered to the gods.

  If you desired prosperity, it was ordained that you must offer a white beast to Vayu. He who desires offspring and cattle should offer a hornless goat to Prajāpati. He who is seized by Varuṇa—for any legal transgressions—should offer a black beast with one white foot in order to be set free. He who desires splendour should offer beasts with dewlap—one with a black neck to Agni, one with different colours to Indra and a white one to Bṛhaspati.

  Animal sacrifice had always incited revulsion in Kaśyapa. Why should the gods be happy if some poor animal is killed in their name? In this matter, he tended to agree with Jaraduṣṭra’s faction. The traditional way of worship was pure and well-articulated, but barbarous animal sacrifices stained its well-deserved reputation. Kaśyapa remembered that their guru had told them about the Dasyus and the Aryans. Once the Aryans split from the Dasyus, the Aryans’ thirst for animal sacrifices increased because the general thinking was that Indra and others, being fierce gods, were bloodthirsty.

  But change was imminent. The Aryans of Parśuvarta had stopped offering cows and bulls as sacrifices on a routine basis a long time ago, choosing instead to worship nature’s ability to nurture. The cow was an apt symbol for this sentiment; the cow, on the sale and purchase of whose milk a great part of their prosperity was dependent. The increased use of ghee in the sacrifices was a way of reducing the offering of animals, by replacing meat and fat. Animal fat derived from milk was replacing animal fat derived from dead animals’ bodies. Kaśyapa shifted his attention to what was going on at the sacrifice.

  The air was thick with smoke from the various fires and carried the echoes of the bleating animal into the distance. A priest tightened a noose around the animal’s neck, led it to the tethering post and then anointed it with ghee. The sacrifice master’s wife bathed the animal. Another noose was tightened around its legs. All this was accompanied by ritual chanting. One chant proclaimed that the animal was willingly offering itself for the sacrifice; another said the animal’s breath was uniting with the wind and its parts with the gods. The priest who performed the sacrifice turned away from the animal as it was smothered, as was the custom.

  The priests then brought down a big knife to cut open the animal at the abdomen. They were pulling out the omentum with forks. One of the priests looked up and Kaśyapa saw that his hands were dark red and dripping with blood. There were splashes of blood all over his clothing. This was the first time Kaśyapa was witnessing the horrifying spectacle like that, and yet it felt like he had seen this very image before. But where?

  Kaśyapa looked away and caught sight of Bhārgava, who turned his head slowly to meet his gaze, as if he had been expecting it. Kaśyapa noticed that he was slowly slipping away from the ceremonial area, looking determined; disappearing behind the thick screen of smoke. Where was he going? Just then Arundhatī turned to Kaśyapa and said, ‘It was him. It was Bhārgava I saw that morning, following Atharvan. This is just how his form appeared in the thick fog.’

  Realization dawned on Kaśyapa! He had seen him before, with his hands stained red with blood. That night in the castle, when he lay tossing in his bed, slipping in and out of sleep, he had seen a lot of colours intermingling with one another; people melting into the different colours. He thought he had dreamt about someone with his hands stained red with blood, but he had not realized then that he was not dreaming. It was Bhārgava! Everything fell into place. Kaśyapa also understood Bhārgava’s motives for the other killings. It made sense. His character, his bigotry, his self-righteousness and his desire to make things the way he wanted it allowed for the killings. He must have considered the killings a painful necessity. And he had been talking about his motives; rather, he was far more voluble than was desirable in a murderer. If only Kaśyapa hadn’t missed it!

  And now he was gone. Kaśyapa felt sure that he had slipped out to complete his mission, of which the killings were only the beginning. He got up and raced over to Agastya. The urgency in his eyes caused Agastya to rise from his place and go with him to Vasiṣṭha. It was wise to gather aid. Kaśyapa told him quickly about what he had concluded; he told him that unless they acted quickly, Bhārgava would claim another innocent life, and for this reason, they must leave the sacrifice and go after him right away. Vasiṣṭha signalled to Yadu, asking him to accompany them, and the four of them ran towards the king’s palace.

  They went straight to the queen’s room. The door was flung open and the guard outside told them that the queen had just gone out with her servants—possibly to the toilets. Kaśyapa ran in the direction of the palace’s toilets before all the others had a chance to catch their breath—he was murmuring prayers to himself, hoping she was safe. He stopped short at the horrifying sight that awaited them.

  Bhārgava was standing with his back to him. A bone dagger in his hand was dripping blood. A woman was lying on the floor in a pool of blood; she had been stabbed in the abdomen. Another could be heard violently pleading with Bhārgava. Kaśyapa sucked in his breath and took a few quiet steps towards him. He slowly let out his breath when he saw Jabālā, wide-eyed with fear and standing behind her valiant servant. ‘Step back and move away from our queen, you insolent man!’ the servant was saying. Bhārgava snarled at the threat and shoved the servant aside forcefully to get hold of the queen.

  Yadu sprang forward, caught his wrist in a strong grip and pulled him, sending him crashing to the ground. But Bhārgava quickly got up and brandished the dagger at him as if threatening to strike him, but he seemed to know that his game was up. He dropped the knife, turned around and ran towards the palace gates. Yadu wanted to stop him in his tracks, but the guru shouted that they must follow him instead, possibly hoping he would undergo a change of heart and surrender.

  Bhārgava was running down the palace road, towards the main avenue, where he turned left. They were still hot on his trail. He then suddenly turned right at the road that led to the docks and kept going. It was darker here, but not too dark to obscure from their vision the terrible sight they were about to witness.

  He was walking into the river, the Sarasvatī, the lifeline of their civilization. When he was up to his waist in water, he turned around to face them. They were standing at the banks.

  Vasiṣṭha asked him, ‘Why did you do this? You had a great future ahead of you. You could have achieved anything you set your mind to!’

  Bhārgava looked back with a mixed expression. He must have hated them for uncovering his plot before he had completed his task. He was doing it for them. So they could have better lives; so they could all live once again, in complete harmony; so the gods were once again pleased; so the Aryan civilization could flourish. He must have pitied them for having to continue in this world and face all its problems. He must also have been scared, possibly thinking about what he was about to do.

  He turned away and walked further down the steps of the riverfront. The water had reached his shoulders; the steps had ended. He craned his neck to throw a final glance at them and ducked his head into the deep river. He was immediately pulled under by the eddies—into the lap of Sarasvatī, never to be seen again.

  35

  Kaśyapa Explains

  Was Bhārgava dead? Or did he somehow manage to swim out of the river downstream? Even if he did swim out, there was no chance he could have made it to another city or kingdom without word reaching Parśuvarta. Sudās would soon send out information to all the cities, villages and neighbouring kingdoms to keep a lookout for him.

  Kaśyapa firmly believed that he was dead.

  Last night, they had eventually gone back to the palace
to ensure that the queen and her unborn child were safe. Her loyal maid had called the royal physicians, who were now looking after her. They asked after the servant-woman who had been injured and, to their surprise, found out that her wound was not as deep as it had appeared. She had lost consciousness from the shock of the attack but was now recovering.

  Kaśyapa didn’t remember whether he went back to the sacrificial field or not. He was too disturbed to know what he was doing. Besides, he had completed his mission. He had found the killer before he could kill anyone else.

  *

  The first day of the new year was upon them; the first day of the consecration for the annual sacrifice known as the Cow’s Walk. Kaśyapa walked to the palace with Agastya. He was tired from all the excitement of the previous day and the traumatic events of the previous night. How you tend to misjudge people, he thought.

  Sudās and Jabālā, Vasiṣṭha, Yadu, Dīrghaśravas, Ghoṣā and the chief servant, Dāsa, turned to look smilingly at them; they were expected.

  Sudās said, ‘Well done! You solved the mystery of the murders before the year ended. You saved our dear kingdom from doom and disorder!’

  Vasiṣṭha too was very proud of Kaśyapa. ‘Go on. Tell us how you arrived at the answer.’

  Kaśyapa cleared his throat. He was nervous. All eyes were on him. This was his moment. He started, ‘Before going into each murder in detail, let me close the discussions around some of the early suspects. Agastya and I debated about every incident, in order to validate my ideas and borrow new ideas from one another. Without him, I could not have accomplished this.’

  He continued, ‘I realized at the beginning that all the incidents were related, even though the people targeted did not have anything in common. The main question we were struggling with was: what was the common thread? When Kutsa died, I knew that his death was somehow related to the death of Atharvan.’