The Guardians of the Halahala

by Shatrujeet Nath

Vikramaditya looked at the sadhu with narrowed eyes, his sword unwavering. “What do you have concealed in your hand under the shawl?” he demanded.

  The sadhu smiled and drew his hand out of the shawl. As the light from the lamps glinted off the blade of the dagger that the intruder held, the samrat levelled his sword menacingly. The sadhu promptly raised his left hand to stay the king.

  “I come in peace and I mean you no harm, Samrat Vikramaditya,” he said. The sadhu then switched his grip on the hilt, so that the dagger lay, inoffensive, on his upturned palm. “I have come to give you this dagger and leave it in your safekeeping.”

  “Why? What’s so special about this dagger?” The king still didn’t lower his guard.

  The sadhu paused a moment before answering. “It is the most powerful weapon in the three worlds, samrat.”

  Vikramaditya stared from the sadhu to the dagger, and then back at the sadhu, his eyes clouded with skepticism.

  “It is something that both the gods of Devaloka and the demons of Patala covet,” the sadhu continued in a somber voice. “Both devas and asuras will do anything to get their hands on this dagger... anything.”

  The samrat held the sadhu’s gaze, his mouth turning downward at the corners in a disbelieving smirk.

  “Is that so? Then why have you brought it to me?”

  “I want you to protect it and keep it from falling into their possession.”

  ***

  At the other end of the palace, in a corner bedroom, Kapila squatted on a divan, staring into the depths of the flagon of soma in his hand. He watched the rich liquid swirling inside the flagon for a while, then raised anxious eyes to Shoorasena, who stood by a window with his hands clutched behind him, looking out into the night.

  “What do we do now?” Kapila addressed his brother’s broad back.

  Shoorasena turned his face inward fractionally, as if meaning to reply, but then changed his mind and went back to staring outside.

  “Father has committed himself to sending Magadha’s troops to shore up Matsya and Avanti’s defenses,” Kapila pressed on, his voice low but marked with urgency. “Now how are we to move against Vanga?”

  Shoorasena continued gazing into the dark in silence.

  “We are left with no choice but to put the campaign against Vanga on hold,” Kapila sighed, his face drooping with regret.

  “There will be no change in our plans,” Shoorasena spun around and snarled at his younger brother. “We have to attack Vanga and gain control of its iron mines. We need cheap iron ore to begin the rapid militarization of Magadha. Without that iron, expanding our army will be next to impossible. And let’s not forget Tamralipti – we capture the port, we control the sea trade between Sindhuvarta and the eastern kingdoms of Sribhoja and Srivijaya.”

  “I know, brother. But if some of our troops are to be diverted for the protection of Sindhuvarta, our push into Vanga might fail.”

  “Yes, we need each and every soldier of Magadha on that front.” Shoorasena went and sat down beside Kapila. “Confound it, we should never have let father come here! He’s never been capable of standing up for Magadha. Always bowing to the wishes of Avanti... First to King Mahendraditya, then to that bully Vararuchi, and now to Vikramaditya... Samrat Vikramaditya,” he scoffed, his voice choking with envy.

  “And let’s not forget Vikramaditya’s glorified flunkey, Chandravardhan,” Kapila gritted his teeth in anger. “It disgusted me to see father apologise to that fat pig.”

  “Chandravardhan, Baanahasta, Bhoomipala... they’re all stooges of Avanti,” Shoorasena spat out in disdain. “They hail Avanti as the protector of Sindhuvarta, but the fools are completely blind to the fact that Avanti is using their armies to defend Sindhuvarta. Then, once Avanti has cleverly cornered all the glory of victory, all the other kingdoms fall over one another in gratitude and applaud when the king of Avanti crowns himself as the samrat of Sindhuvarta!”

  “It isn’t just glory that Avanti has claimed for itself, brother,” Kapila interjected. “Look at how it has taken possession of the erstwhile kingdoms of Gosringa, Nishada, Malawa and Kunti in the name of liberating them from the Hunas and Sakas. Gosringa, Nishada and Malawa are now provinces of Avanti, while Kunti is little more than a protectorate. Avanti has expanded on the blood and bones of its neighbors, yet Chandravardhan and the other blinkered idiots can’t stop singing its praise.” Kapila paused and his shoulders slumped in dejection. “But why blame only them? Even Magadha has always conducted itself in this servile fashion.”

  “Not anymore,” Shoorasena growled darkly, rising from the divan. Looking up at the ornate ceiling of the room, he shook his head. “Once we have conquered Vanga and the other eastern kingdoms of Odra, Kalinga and Pragjyotishpura, our power will rival that of Avanti. Then Avanti and its puppet kingdoms won’t dare talk down to us, I promise.”

  “Indeed. But right now we must address the issue of the promise that father has made to Vikramaditya.” Kapila rose from his seat as well. “We have to figure out a way of ensuring that the whole of Magadha’s army stays at our disposal.”

  “Don’t worry,” Shoorasena placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I will find a way.”

  ***

  Vikramaditya frowned as he examined the dagger closely, turning it this way and that in the light of the lamps. Occasionally, he cast a mistrustful eye on the sadhu, who stood to one side, unperturbed.

  As far as the king could make out, the weapon was rather primitive, comprising a hilt made of polished obsidian, to which was attached a thin, long blade. The dagger’s edge was sharp, but by no means the keenest that he had come across.

  There was absolutely nothing in the knife to substantiate the sadhu’s claim.

  “ This... is the most powerful weapon in the three worlds?” the samrat appraised the intruder, his tone sarcastic.

  The sadhu nodded. “Its power rests not in its blade, but in its hilt.”

  The king once again cast his eye over the obsidian hilt, then looked at the sadhu and gave an impatient shake of his head. “Your story is all nonsense,” he said. “Tell me what you really want, or I shall...”

  “Hold the dagger against the light and look through the hilt,” the sadhu spoke imperiously.

  Vikramaditya narrowed his eyes at the sadhu’s irreverent tone.

  “Go on,” the trespasser urged, lowering himself into a cushioned chair without invitation.

  The king glared at the sadhu for a moment. Then he slowly raised the dagger to the light, his expression still thoroughly unconvinced. Yet, a moment later, his face underwent a dramatic transformation as he stared, mesmerized, at the dagger.

  For in the opaque blackness of the hilt, he saw a strange light.

  It wasn’t the dull, yellowish light of the lamps refracting through the glassy stone. It wasn’t even a light coming through the stone. It was a light coming from within the inky blackness of the hilt, iridescent blue, speckled with gold and silver motes, pulsating with life.

  After what seemed to him like eons, Vikramaditya lowered the dagger and turned to the sadhu.

  “What is inside this hilt?” he asked in a hushed awe.

  “What do you know about the Halahala?” Instead of answering, the sadhu posed a question of his own.

  “The Halahala...?” The king paused in surprise. “It was that all-destroying poison that the devas and asuras accidentally churned out of the White Lake while looking for the Elixir.”

  “Yes, the scourge from the White Lake,” the sadhu nodded, pointing to the dagger’s hilt.

  Vikramaditya stared at the dagger in his hand, then looked back to the sadhu in confusion. “You’re saying that what I saw in this hilt is that Halahala?”

  “A very, very small portion of it, yes. Yet, infinitely potent and capable of doing immense harm.”

  “But... but that can’t be,” the samrat argued. “The Halahala was destroyed by the mighty Shiva before it could annihilate the three worlds.”

&n
bsp; “No, not all of it,” the sadhu shook his head in regret. “One little portion of the toxin escaped destruction due to great greed and cunning – the portion now in your hands. And unfortunately, knowledge of the poison’s existence has spawned even greater greed and cunning – the greed and cunning to possess the Halahala at any cost.”

  “How do you know this?” the king’s voice was filled with wonder.

  “Like I said, it’s a long story, so pull yourself a chair. I shall tell you the untold story of the Halahala – which began with a little-known but sly asura by the name of Veeshada.”

  Veeshada

  V

  eeshada was one of the asuras the sages Brihaspati and Shukracharya picked to transport the Halahala from the shores of the White Lake to Mount Kailasa,” the sadhu commenced his narrative. “Much as all the other devas and asuras who were assigned the task, he was of formidable character, with mastery over the dark arts.”

  “Now, even by asura standards, Veeshada was blessed with an extremely crafty and calculative mind, and as the band of devas and asuras made their way over the Himalayas with the deadly Halahala, a devious plan hatched in Veeshada’s head.”

  “The asura had witnessed the havoc that the Halahala had caused, and it dawned on him that a poison with such devastating effects would be of great value to the asuras in their struggle for supremacy against the devas. He understood that a small quantity of the Halahala was all that was needed to shift the balance of power in favor of the asuras – they could perpetually hold Devaloka to ransom under its threat.”

  As the sadhu paused to collect his thoughts, Vikramaditya listened in rapt attention. “ From Brihaspati and Shukracharya’s conversations, Veeshada had also gathered that before the rock had been broken, the Halahala was contained in a vacuum inside the boulder,” the sadhu continued. “So, as the group journeyed to Mount Kailasa, Veeshada secretly fashioned a dagger with an obsidian hilt, and created a small chamber within the hilt.”

  The samrat’s eyes widened, and he once again raised the dagger and held it delicately to the lamps, marveling at the blue light beating inside the hilt.

  “On the second night of the journey, as a furious blizzard swept through the mountains and the devas and asuras huddled from the cold and slept, Veeshada sneaked a few ounces of the Halahala into the chamber concealed in his dagger’s hilt. Using his magical powers, he then sealed the stolen poison into a vacuum before fleeing into the night, making for the asura dominions.”

  “Didn’t the rest of the devas and asuras notice Veeshada’s absence the next morning?” Vikramaditya interjected.

  “They did, but they assumed that he had blundered in the dark and was claimed by the blizzard,” the sadhu answered. “And anyway, their main concern was bringing the stone to the Eternal Cave. So they suspected nothing of Veeshada’s treachery – until I told them about it.”

  “You told them?” The king’s eyebrows rose sharply. Pausing to place the dagger back on the table, he asked, “Who are you? You still haven’t told me how you know all this.”

  The sadhu smiled... and for a brief moment, he seemed to fade a little in the light of the guttering lamps. Then, as the king blinked rapidly, certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him, the sadhu appeared to grow in form. At the same time, a mellow phosphorescence enveloped the figure for a fleeting moment.

  And in that moment, as the cosmic beat of the damaru roared in his ears, Vikramaditya saw the white, crescent moon adorning the sadhu’s matted locks, and noticed the tinge of blue iridescence around his throat.

  The vision was gone in a flash, and when the king looked again, all he saw was the sadhu seated before him, quietly stroking his beard. But Vikramaditya knew what he had seen was no illusion. Without taking his eyes off his visitor, he rose from his seat and dropped to his knees with folded his hands.

  “Pardon my insolence, Mahadeva, but I did not recognize you because of your disguise,” he whispered.

  “It is just as well,” Shiva smiled benignly. “Had people been able to see through it, the whole purpose of a disguise would have been defeated.”

  “I am blessed, gurudev,” the king remained on his knees, his head bowed.

  “Rise, samrat, and take your seat,” Shiva commanded. “Time is short and I have much to tell you about the Halahala.”

  The king returned to his chair and Shiva took up the thread of his narrative.

  “Once I had consumed the Halahala, the devas and the asuras were overjoyed. But I put a stop to their rejoicing by informing them of Veeshada’s flight. I told them where to find the asura, and commanded them to retrieve the dagger and bring it to me.”

  “But gurudev, you are the Omniscient One, the mightiest of the ancient gods,” Vikramaditya interrupted. “Why did you have to send the devas and asuras after Veeshada when you knew where he was and could have stopped him yourself?”

  “Indeed I am omniscient, but it was not in my destiny to stop Veeshada,” answered Shiva. “It was in the destiny of the devas and asuras to prevent him from doing his mischief – just as it is now in your destiny to prevent them from doing theirs. Now let me get on with my story.”

  The king bowed in acknowledgment, and Shiva continued. “The devas and asuras did as I bid them, and for two days they pursued Veeshada. They finally cornered him in an underground cavern and ordered him to yield the dagger. The wily asura, however, tried to incite his brethren against the devas, telling them how they could rule over the devas with the help of the Halahala. The uneasy standoff ended when a deva finally slew Veeshada and took control of the dagger. But the damage was done.”

  Shiva paused and looked at the dagger with sad eyes. “Veeshada had succeeded in opening the devas’ and asuras’ eyes to the true power of the Halahala. He had kindled in their hearts the greed to possess the dagger. Even when they returned to Kailasa, their reluctance to part with the dagger was plain on their faces. What I had feared had come to pass. I saw the Halahala would never again be safe from the devas and the asuras.”

  “But couldn’t you have put an end to the matter by consuming the remaining Halahala as well, Mahadeva?”

  “The Halahala is the most hazardous of substances in all three worlds,” Shiva spoke with patience. “Even the ancient gods dread it, which was why it was cast into the depths of the White Lake in the hope that it would never be found. It nearly destroyed me when I swallowed it the first time. There is no way I could survive a second exposure to the poison.”

  Rising from his seat, Shiva strolled over to the window. He stood for a while in silence, before turning back to Vikramaditya. “You see my predicament, samrat?” he asked. “Here I am in possession of a poison that cannot be destroyed, one that both asuras and devas desperately crave after. But I cannot allow either to get hold of the Halahala – for if one or the other succeeds, the fragile equilibrium of the cosmos will be broken and the three worlds will topple into chaos. So, ever since that fateful day so many thousand years ago, I have been forced to protect this dagger from the evenly matched rivals.”

  “Forgive my ignorance, gurudev, but the Halahala would give the celestial devas a great advantage over the demonic asuras of Patala,” the king pointed out. “Isn’t this desirable for the triumph of good over evil?”

  “The universe is all about balance, samrat,” Shiva shook his head. “The forces of light and darkness are meant to keep a check on one another. If one becomes too powerful and starts overrunning the other, that balance will be upset. For the tyranny of virtue is as unbearable as the stranglehold of vice.”

  Shiva paused and gave a dry chuckle. “And as you will discover for yourself, the devas are not above deceit and viciousness when it comes to getting what they want. So, the question of good triumphing evil doesn’t arise.”

  The room was silent for a while as Vikramaditya pondered over Shiva’s words. At last, raising his head, he asked, “Why have you brought the Halahala to my safekeeping, Mahadeva?”

  “What choice
do I have? I can trust neither deva nor asura with it. The only option left is to entrust the dagger in the care of mankind, the neutral force between Devaloka and Patala. And there’s no better man than you for this task, samrat.”

  “But can’t you continue protecting the dagger, gurudev?” the king protested. “No deva or asura would dare take the Halahala from you. It is safest in your hands.”

  “You are right,” Shiva conceded. “But I am a yogi in pursuit of transcendence through meditation. The Halahala is a constant distraction, tying me down to the material world. It prevents me from fulfilling my dharma and achieving enlightenment. For thousands of years I have been bound by the responsibility of protecting the dagger – to have done otherwise would be putting the universe at risk. But I cannot be untrue to myself and my dharma any longer. It is time to bequeath the Halahala to its rightful custodian and set myself free.”

  Vikramaditya once again lapsed into brooding silence. When he finally addressed Shiva, his voice was troubled.

  “It is a privilege that you have chosen me to guard this dagger, gurudev. But I fear that I will fail in honoring your trust. The responsibility of protecting the Halahala from the gods of Devaloka and the demons of Patala is too heavy a burden for one man to bear.”

  “Yet I don’t doubt your capabilities for a moment, Samrat Vikramaditya,” Shiva responded levelly. “Else, I wouldn’t have made a journey this far. And who says you are alone? You have nine of the best warriors on earth by your side. And if I must add, you and your Council of Nine don’t have a choice in this matter – all your destinies are already interlinked with that of the Halahala.”

  Following a silence that seemed to last forever, the king heaved a huge sigh and looked into Shiva’s face. “As you wish, Mahadeva,” he said, his voice ringing with resolve. “My Council of Nine and I swear to protect this dagger till our last breath.”

  “I am grateful to hear that.” Shiva seemed reassured by Vikramaditya’s words. “I can now return to the Eternal Cave in the knowledge that the dagger is safe with the Guardians of the Halahala.”