And she understood Vidyut too well to know that he was not going to let it go.
Along with Bodh Gaya, Kushinagar and Lumbini, Sarnath is among the four primary pilgrimages believed to have been recommended by the Buddha Himself. About 13 kilometers from Varanasi, it is the site where Gautama Buddha gave his very first sermon. Vidyut had promised Damini that he would take her to this beautiful and holy place. Never in his wildest nightmares had he imagined the circumstances of this visit.
They sat crossed-legged on the grass of the sprawling lawns of the premises, lost and disoriented. Vidyut was unable to get the nerve-wracking sight of his misguided friend’s severed head staring into his face with dead, white eyes.
Why did we tie him up? Bala could have saved himself! Why did we tie him up?
The incident had shaken up the whole of the Dev-Raakshasa matth. Never in its history of hundreds of years had the matth’s security been breached so summarily and so violently. Fear had seeped into the hearts of its inhabitants, and the great Dwarka Shastri was nursing a deep, uncharacteristic guilt. He was crestfallen that he had let down not just his brilliant ancestors who had led and protected the matth against even marauding forces of cruel, bigoted sultans, but also the vital duty destiny had entrusted him with. Vidyut had to be protected at all cost! And if Bala could be beheaded right under the noses of the matth leadership, was Vidyut safe at all??
The God-Demon monastery was now in counter-attack mode. One of the first and immediate edicts of the matthadheesh was that Damini had to be sent back to the security of her Gurgaon metropolitan home and life. Her half-hearted protests were ignored, given that Vidyut was firm as well on the decision of her return. A trained fighter of the matth was dispatched to Gurgaon without Damini’s knowledge. Her mandate was to ensure Damini’s safety from a close but invisible distance.
Their trip to Sarnath was going to be Damini’s last day in Varanasi.
For now.
Damini slipped her fingers between Vidyut’s, looking lovingly at his tense, handsome face. In just a few days their whole world had turned upside down. From her dashing, successful and famous boyfriend till just a week ago, Vidyut had transformed into this so-called savior or messiah, destined to protect something that was critical for the entire human race! He was at the epicenter of murders, exorcism, taantrics, bullets, assassins, spirits and hidden foes. It was all unfolding at a pace that Damini could not fully assimilate.
She had left everything on faith. The limitless, infinite, indescribable faith she had on one man. Her man.
Vidyut.
‘Kuchh toh bolo, Vidyut…say something, na…’ she said.
Vidyut knew he had just one more hour with Damini, before he dropped her to the airport. He had so much to share with her. His heart was burdened with sorrow, remorse and anxiety, and he knew it was only Damini who could understand everything he was going through. Only she who would hear, and not just listen.
‘We made him a monster,’ said Vidyut, looking far into the stretch of the Sarnath shrines.
‘What do you mean…?’ asked Damini.
‘We made him the monster he became, Damini. I heard his story. The rotten reality of his childhood and everything we subjected his family to…’
Damini was confused. Not privy to the last conversation Vidyut had had with Bala, she was unable to comprehend who or what Vidyut was talking about.
Vidyut continued. Damini let him. She knew he needed to speak his heart out.
‘We are the oldest, the most ancient religion in the world. In fact we are not a religion at all. We are the way of life of this glorious nation, this beautiful subcontinent. We discovered the zero, the value of the mathematical pi, martial arts, surgery, medicine, chess, politics, yoga…we were writing the profound Vedas when the West was living in caves and hunting for raw flesh! We created the Varna Vyavastha or the Caste System as the most prehistoric and efficient form of division of labour – a vital construct for the development of an economy. But look how we corrupted that most evangelical concept of all.’
‘Sorry Vidyut, I understand you are talking about Hinduism and the division of the society into castes. But how is that an efficient or evangelical structure? Isn’t it the worst form of inequality?’
‘Of course it is! Of course it is, Damini…’ replied Vidyut fervently. ‘But this was not how it all began. If you read our scriptures, each of the four broad castes of Brahmins (priests & teachers), Kshatriyas (warriors & protectors), Vaishyas (merchants & businesspeople) and Shudras (workers & artisans) are believed to have emanated from a distinct body part of Lord Vishnu! How can any caste, creed or community that finds its genesis from Lord Vishnu Himself, be inferior to any other?’
‘Please be clear, Vidyut. I think I know what you are saying, but please explain a little. And I have no idea how Bala is connected to all this.’
Vidyut sighed. He turned to Damini and kissed her softly on her forehead. It was out of nowhere, but he could not stop himself from expressing his love for her. She tightened her grip on his fingers, and raised her pretty eyebrows, urging him to continue.
They were now walking towards a famous sweetmeat shop, a short distance outside Sarnath. Vidyut had gushed about the delectable gulaab jaamuns of this shop a couple of days ago, and Damini insisted that she wanted to try the delicious mithai. She was not one to enjoy sweets too much, but she wanted to keep Vidyut engaged in some silly niceties somehow - anything that drew him away even momentarily from the darkness of the previous evening.
‘Varna Vyavastha or the caste system did not propound or champion any form of hierarchy whatsoever. Each section of the society was considered to be equal and vital to the harmony and progress of the people,’ continued Vidyut, as they walked in the bright sunlit afternoon.
‘Well, that’s news to me,’ said Damini. ‘I always thought that Brahmins were supposed to be the highest order of caste, followed by Kshatriyas and so on…
Vidyut laughed and shook his head in amazement.
Even someone as well informed as Damini has these misgivings!
‘No, Damini, there was no such distinction. It was simply division of labour, to encourage specialization and expertise for the benefit of the society at large. Consider this – in a company like my own, which department is more important? Marketing? Software programming? Human Resources? Or Finance?’
‘Okay baba, I understand…’ replied Damini, grasping fully what Vidyut was trying to explain. ‘But then how did this system of equality and economic specialization change into an exploitative set-up?’
Vidyut turned to Damini, his eyes widened in disbelief at her naïve question, as he spoke.
‘Just how a religion propounded by a Shepherd who sacrificed himself for the message of universal love, unleashed the most brutal and inhuman religious crusades! Just how a Prophet’s word of love and humanity is being distorted by some people to spread violence and hate, Damini. Don’t you see? It is the greed for power and wealth that distorts great ancient vision into quagmires of shallow vested interests?’
Damini was listening carefully, absorbing every word Vidyut was saying.
‘I am not defending what Bala did. But why blame him alone when he was actually the victim of societal decay? Blind execution of the caste system, in a way that leads to the exploitation of one community by another, is not Hinduism. It never was. This ruthless subjugation of any caste or any community is nothing but moral and social corruption! And it not only defiles the name of our great way of life, but also brings misery to fellow humans. Bala was just at the receiving end of this perversion, and he took the only way out he saw.’
‘I understand, Vidyut,’ said Damini after a few moments of pause, as they walked silently. ‘But will you try to get this whole episode out of your mind? I know it will not be easy. But it is important for you to put it behind you.’
Vidyut stopped and turned towards Damini.
‘This is not about me, Damini. It is not just about Bala ei
ther. This is a larger issue that we face as a nation, as a people. There was a long phase in our history when Brahmins and Kshatriyas were oppressing the Shudras or dalits as some people call them. Those were dark and deplorable times. But now see what is happening. Politicians are exploiting and fanning those old scars. As a result now sizeable sections of the so-called lower castes are voting en masse, bringing corrupt individuals to power - simply because they belong to a certain caste! Democracy, which is the heart and soul of our great country, is succumbing to caste-based fault-lines. Buses are being burnt and massive rallies are being called in the name of caste even today, when all of us Indians should be focusing on uprooting poverty, illiteracy, malnutrition and so many other challenges we continue to face. But no! We are busy fighting each other based on caste, religion, language, state and what not. And if this keeps going, more Balas will emerge as the noxious by-product of this perpetual conflict.’
From a distance the shrines of Sarnath were visible, looking glorious against the bright afternoon sky. Vidyut pointed at them for Damini to see.
‘We are standing where the Buddha stood one day, Damini, thousands of years ago. The Buddhists embrace Him as their very own. On the other hand, Hindus believe Him to be the ninth avatar of Lord Vishnu. Both communities love the Buddha. Both communities share Him and His divine legacy. There is no struggle, no clash whatsoever. It is this very assimilation, this very inclusiveness that makes us unique and makes our heritage immortal.
It is this very precious way of life that we need to protect, Damini.’
East of Harappa, 1700 BCE
THE BLACK TEMPLE
It was the most magnificent sight.
After riding for several hours in the constricted goat-trails and ravines of the grey-black mountains, their caravan emerged at an open clearing. From the serpentine route they had taken, it was clear to Manu that neither the great architects of this splendid edifice nor the black-robed guardians of these ranges wanted anyone to find it.
As Manu’s horse emerged from the narrow crevice of the mountain they had just navigated through, his eyes got locked on what he saw. The domineering presence of the structure ahead made him breathless. The most gigantic and complexly carved doorway was cut into the massive black mountain across the plain. There it was, towering majestically high into the sky.
The Black Temple.
Chiseled intricately into the hard, black rocks of the gigantic mountain, the doorway was more beautiful than anything Manu had ever seen before. His horse trotted aimlessly towards the Black Temple even as Manu felt hypnotized by the force emanating from it.
‘Come with me, Manu,’ said the gracious lady, the leader of the mountain guardians. ‘Let me take you inside this holiest of temples.’
Manu dismounted and followed the lady. Something was drawing him towards the core sanctum of the shrine.
As Manu entered the great door, he comprehended what he had seen outside was not even a scratch on the surface of this mesmerizing temple. A few steps inside were all that it took for Manu to grasp the real architectural wonder that he now beheld in front of his eyes. To his utter shock he realized that the master craftsmen who built this temple - had chipped and cut the entire mountain hollow from the inside! Manu stood at the entrance of the most enormous hall he had ever set foot in. And it was the giant belly of the black mountain.
Manu was staring up at the high walls of the temple, turning his head and then his entire body around to fully capture the enchanting sight. The ceiling was so high that it faded into the darkness. Illuminated by hundreds of glowing torches, the temple was carved into beautiful pillars, arches, sculptures and prayer rooms. A series of staircases, carved out of pure rock at a dizzy height, connected the high corridors from one end of the hall to another.
But the most imposing and awe-striking feature of the temple was what sat at the center of the hall. Manu fell to his knees and folded his hands in devoutness and entrancement.
A colossal rock statue of Rudra or Lord Shiva, deep in penance, sat soaring into the heights of the stone temple.
Manu had never witnessed or even heard of such scale and grandeur of architecture. He had never imagined a statue of Rudra to be as brilliant as what was in front of him. To him it was all like a marvelous, fantastic dream. He was nearly giddy when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
‘You look like you’ve witnessed Creation itself!’ joked Matsya, as Manu turned to look up at him.
Giving in to an inexplicable urge of love and devotion, Manu got up and fell into the arms of Matsya. He was overwhelmed by the mystical grandiose all around him, and Matsya’s shoulder seemed like a comforting cushion. The mysterious fish-man was taken by surprise, but he laughed in delight and held the son of Vivasvan and Sanjna in a tight embrace. It was hard to say who needed whom more. Perhaps divinity is no greater than its believer. One would not exist without the other.
‘What is this place, O Matsya?’ asked Manu, once he had resumed his composure.
Matsya walked a few steps around the hall, admiring the forceful, mysterious beauty that surrounded them.
‘It is a safe-house for this planet’s most priceless secret, Manu,’ he said. ‘It is the seventh temple of its kind built over the last one thousand years. Several more shall be built in the centuries yet to come. The secret that is hidden here must be shifted from time to time, in order to protect it till the prophesied day arrives.’
Manu was listening intently as he noticed that several men and women dressed in the same fish-skin robes as Matsya’s had appeared around them. From the way they bowed to Matsya, it was evident that they were his disciples. They all looked gentle and kind, and smelled of the sea. Manu was perplexed.
There is no sea for hundreds of miles!
‘After every cycle of yugas or eons is over, Creation assesses its own work as well as the collective conduct of Earth’s only species that resembles the Creator. It then decides the course of action that is aligned with the longevity of life, as we know it. Sometimes what is needed is a complete purging, which is engineered through the indescribably powerful forces of nature. On some other occasions, a partial cleansing is required. An end to evil through the triumph of good.
That is when an avatar appears.’
They were now sitting in a circle at the feet of Rudra - Matsya, the fish-folk, the Godmother of the mountain-guardians and Manu. Matsya was responding to Manu’s queries about the Black Temple and its significance. Even as Manu focused on what Matsya was explaining, he could not help but notice that some of the distant prayer rooms of the temple were glowing a soft blue in colour. This was different from the regular yellowish-orange radiance emanating from all the other cells, as a result of the ritual fires that were lit in them. One, two…three…he quickly counted. There were seven prayer caves that were glowing blue, cut high into the temple walls and connected with rock-carved stairs.
‘But what right does the Creator have to decide on the fate of this world and its inhabitants? Who gives the Creator the authority to exterminate life on this planet as and when the Creator chooses? The purging you are talking about, isn’t it cruel and unbecoming of the One we worship as the Almighty?’ asked Manu.
Matsya smiled and looked at Manu with great fondness. His smile reminded Manu of the way his father, the mighty Vivasvan Pujari, used to look at him affectionately.
‘So you want to debate and discover Brahma-Gyaan or the ultimate, cosmic truth over this huddle, Manu?’ said Matsya. ‘Don’t you think the complexity of the universe, the laws of good and evil, the construct of Rnanubandhan or karmic-debt, the forces of creation and destruction…might be a bit profound to unravel all at once?’
‘Yes of course, Matsya. I understand that sages and mendicants dedicate their lives in an effort to enlighten themselves with the final revelation of the cosmic order, and we cannot discuss it all here and now. All I am saying is that I have been a student of the insightful Vedas and other scriptures. For all their wisdom and
brilliance, I have always found it hard to accept that a force above all we know, gets to choose the fate of humanity. How unfair is that?’
The gathering was silent after Manu said these words. Most of them were now looking at Matsya to respond.
‘So you want to play a role in deciding the shared destiny of your kind, Manu?’ said Matsya after a few moments of deliberation. He wasn’t smiling.
Manu noticed that Matsya had used the term your kind, and not our kind. He let it pass. He also felt he could see Matsya’s skin radiating the bluish tinge more than usual. He shrugged away the thought.
‘Yes…yes, I think I would want to be instrumental in anything that is decided for me or my people.’
Matsya was now staring into Manu’s eyes, as intense as he looked delighted. Manu felt the enigmatic fish-man’s glare pierce through his head, reaching far beyond into an unknown horizon.
‘Then be ready, O son of Vivasvan Pujari!’ Matsya roared suddenly. ‘Your chance is not far away!’
His eyes were blazing and his right hand was outstretched, his finger pointing straight at Manu, as he screamed out the bloodcurdling words.
‘PRALAY…ESHHYATI…!’
‘THE GREAT DELUGE…IS COMING…!’
Banaras, 2017
CONSTANTINE
Vidyut was complaining. He had reason to. And his great grandfather was perhaps the only person in the world he could shamelessly grumble to.
‘You are trikaal-darshi, Baba, the viewer of all realms of space and time,’ said Vidyut. ‘I cannot believe that you could not foresee any of this. First, that Bala was going to betray me. And second, that Trijat Kapaalik’s visit was not just for an exchange of pleasantries!’
Vidyut was pacing up and down the great Dwarka Shastri’s room, expressing his angst visibly to the matthadheesh.
Pralay- The Great Deluge Page 9