by Amish
‘It is,’ answered Sati. ‘I was told by father himself. Apparently, it was built years ago. As a back-up to Mount Mandar, just in case...’
‘Where?’ asked Kali.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Sati.
‘Damn!’ exclaimed Kali, scowling darkly as she turned to Brahaspati. ‘You had said that that was not possible. The churners needed materials from Egypt. They could not be built from Indian material. We have allies constantly watching those Egyptian mines. No material has gone to Meluha!’
Brahaspati’s face turned white as the implications dawned on him. He held his head and muttered, ‘Lord Ram, be merciful... How can they resort to this?’
‘Resort to what?’ asked Shiva.
‘There’s another way in which the Saraswati waters can be mixed with the crushed Sanjeevani branches. But it’s considered wasteful and repugnant.’
‘Why?’
‘Firstly, it uses much larger quantities of the Saraswati water. Secondly, it needs animal or human skin cells.’
‘Excuse me!’ cried Shiva and Sati.
‘It doesn’t mean that one skins a live animal or human,’ said Brahaspati, as though reassuring them. ‘What is needed is old and dead skin cells that we shed every minute that we are alive. The cells help the Saraswati waters to grate the Sanjeevani branches at molecular levels. The waters mixed with dead skin cells are simply poured over crushed branches placed in a chamber. This process does not require any churning. But as you can imagine, it wastes a lot of water. Secondly, how would one find animals and humans who would come to a faraway facility and get into a pool of water above a chamber which contains crushed Sanjeevani branches? It is risky.’
‘Why?’
‘Dead skin cells of humans or animals are best shed while bathing. A human sheds between two to three kilograms every year. Bathing hastens the process.’
‘But why is this risky?’
‘Because Somras production is inherently unstable; the skin cell route even more so. One doesn’t want large populations anywhere close to a Somras facility. If anything goes wrong, the resultant explosion can kill hundreds of thousands. Even in the usual, less risky churning process, we do not build Somras production centres close to cities. Can you imagine what would happen if the riskier skin cell process was being conducted close to a city with a large number of humans ritually bathing above a Somras production centre?’
Shiva’s face suddenly turned white. ‘Public baths in Meluhan cities...’ he whispered.
‘Exactly,’ said Brahaspati. ‘Build the facility within a city, below a public bath. One would have all the dead skin cells that one would need.’
‘And if something goes wrong... If an explosion takes place...’
‘Blame the daivi astras or the Nagas. Blame the Chandravanshis if you want,’ fumed Brahaspati. ‘Having created so many evil spectres, you can take your pick!’
‘Something is wrong,’ said Bhrigu.
He was surveying the destroyed remains of Mount Mandar with Dilipa. The Somras manufacturing facility looked nowhere near completion though reconstruction was on.
Dilipa turned towards the sage. ‘I agree, Maharishiji. It has been more than five years since the Nagas destroyed Mandar. It’s ridiculous that the facility has still not been reconstructed.’
Bhrigu turned to Dilipa and waved his hand dismissively. ‘Mount Mandar is not important anymore. It’s only a symbol. I’m talking about the attack on Panchavati.’
Dilipa stared wide-eyed at the sage. Mount Mandar is not important? This means that the rumours are true. Another Somras manufacturing facility does exist.
‘I had given a whole kit of homing pigeons to the attackers,’ continued Bhrigu, not bothering with Dilipa’s incredulous look. ‘All of them had been trained to return to this site. The last pigeon came in two weeks back.’
Dilipa frowned. ‘You can trust my man, My Lord. He will not fail.’
Bhrigu had appointed an officer from Dilipa’s army to lead the attack on Shiva’s convoy at Panchavati. He did not trust Daksha’s ability to detach himself from his love for his daughter. ‘Of that I am sure. He has proven himself trustworthy, strictly complying with my instructions to send back a message every week. The fact that the updates have suddenly stopped means that he has either been captured or killed.’
‘I’m sure a message is on its way. We needn’t worry.’
Bhrigu turned sharply towards Dilipa. ‘Is this how you govern your empire, great King? Is it any wonder that your son’s claim to the throne appears legitimate?’
Dilipa’s silence was telling.
Bhrigu sighed. ‘When you prepare for war, you should always hope for the best, but be ready for the worst. The last despatch clearly stated that they were but six days’ sail from Panchavati. Having received no word, I am compelled to assume the worst. The attack must have failed. Also, I should assume Shiva knows the identity of the attackers.’
Dilipa didn’t speak, but kept staring at Bhrigu. He thought Bhrigu was over-reacting.
‘I’m not over-reacting, Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu.
Dilipa was stunned. He hadn’t uttered a word.
‘Do not underestimate the issue,’ said Bhrigu. ‘This is not about you or me. This is about the future of India. This is about protecting the greatest Good. We cannot afford to fail! It is our duty to Lord Brahma; our duty to this great land of ours.’
Dilipa remained silent. Though one thought kept reverberating in his mind. I am way out of my depth here. I have entangled myself with powers that are beyond mere emperors.
Chapter 4
A Frog Homily
The aroma of freshly-cooked food emerged from Shiva’s chambers as his family assembled for their evening meal. Sati’s culinary skill and effort were evident in the feast she had lined up for what was practically their first meal together as a family. Shiva, Ganesh and Kartik waited for her to take a seat before they began the meal.
In keeping with custom, the family of the Mahadev took some water from their glasses and sprinkled it around their plates, symbolically thanking Goddess Annapurna for her blessings in the form of food and nourishment. After this, they offered the first morsel of food to the gods. Breaking with age-old tradition though, Shiva always offered his first morsel to his wife. For him, she was divine. Sati reciprocated by offering her first morsel to Shiva.
And thus the meal began.
‘Ganesh has got some mangoes for you today,’ said Sati, looking indulgently at Kartik.
Kartik grinned. ‘Yummy! Thanks dada!’
Ganesh smiled and patted Kartik on his back.
‘You should smile a little more, Kartik,’ said Shiva. ‘Life is not so grim.’
Kartik smiled at his father. ‘I’ll try, baba.’
Looking at his other progeny, Shiva inhaled sharply. ‘Ganesh?’
‘Yes... baba,’ said Ganesh, unsure of the response to his calling Shiva father.
‘My son,’ whispered Shiva. ‘I misjudged you.’
Ganesh’s eyes moistened.
‘Forgive me,’ said Shiva.
‘No, baba,’ exclaimed Ganesh, embarrassed. ‘How can you ask me for forgiveness? You are my father.’
Brahaspati had told Shiva that he had made Ganesh take an oath of secrecy; nobody was to know that the former Meluhan chief scientist was alive. Brahaspati did not trust anyone and wanted his experiments on the Mesopotamian bacteria to remain secret. Ganesh had kept his word even at the cost of almost losing his beloved mother and of grievously damaging his relationship with Shiva.
‘You’re a man of your word,’ said Shiva. ‘You honoured your promise to Brahaspati, without sparing a thought for the price you would be paying.’
Ganesh remained quiet.
‘I’m proud of you my son,’ said Shiva.
Ganesh smiled.
Sati looked at Shiva, Kartik and then at Ganesh. Her world had come full circle. Life was as perfect as it could possibly be. She did not need anythin
g else. She could live her life in Panchavati till the end of her days. But she knew that this was not to be. A war was coming; a battle that would require major sacrifices. She knew she had to savour these moments for as long as they lasted.
‘What now, baba?’ asked Kartik seriously.
‘We’re going to eat!’ laughed Shiva. ‘And then, hopefully, we will go to sleep.’
‘No, no,’ smiled Kartik. ‘You know what I mean. Are we going to proclaim the Somras as the ultimate Evil? Are we going to declare war against all those who continue to use or protect the Somras?’
Shiva looked at Kartik thoughtfully. ‘There has already been a lot of fighting, Kartik. We will not rush into anything.’ Shiva turned to Ganesh. ‘I’m sorry, my son, but I need to know more. I have to know more.’
‘I understand, baba. There are only two groups of people who know all there is to know about this.’
‘The Vasudevs and the Vayuputras?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m not sure if the Vayuputra council will help me. But I know the Vasudevs will.’
‘I’ll take you to Ujjain, baba. You can speak to their chief directly.’
‘Where is Ujjain?’
‘It’s up north, beyond the Narmada.’
Shiva considered it for a bit. ‘That would be along the shorter route to Swadweep and Meluha, right?’
With the security of Panchavati uppermost in her mind, Kali had led Shiva and his entourage from Kashi to Panchavati via an elaborate route which took a year to traverse. The party had first headed east through Swadweep then south from Branga. They then moved west from Kalinga through the dangerous Dandak forests before they reached the headwaters of the Godavari where Panchavati lay. Shiva realised that there must be a shorter northern route to Meluha and Swadweep, which was impossible to traverse without a Naga guide, because of the impregnable forests that impeded the path.
‘Yes, baba. Though mausi is very secretive about this route, I know that she would be happy to share it with the three of you.’
‘I understand,’ said Sati. ‘The Nagas have many powerful enemies.’
‘Yes, maa,’ said Ganesh, before turning to Shiva. ‘But that is not the only reason. Let’s be honest. Though the war has not yet begun, we already know that the most powerful emperors in the land are against us. Which side everyone takes, including those waiting in the Panchavati guesthouse colony, will become clear over the next few months. Panchavati is a safe haven. It’s not wise to give away its secrets just as yet.’
Shiva nodded. ‘Let me figure out what I should do with my convoy. There aren’t too many kings in the Sapt Sindhu I can readily trust at this point of time. Once I’ve made up my mind, we can make plans to leave for Ujjain.’
Kartik turned to Ganesh. ‘Dada, there’s one thing I simply don’t understand. The Vayuputras are the tribe left behind by Lord Rudra. They helped the great seventh Vishnu, Lord Ram, complete his mission. So how is it that these good people do not see the Evil that the Somras has become today?’
Ganesh smiled. ‘I have a theory.’
Shiva and Sati looked up at Ganesh, while continuing to eat.
‘You’ve seen a frog, right?’ asked Ganesh.
‘Yes,’ said Kartik. ‘Interesting creatures; especially their tongues!’
Ganesh smiled. ‘Apparently, an unknown Brahmin scientist had conducted some experiments on frogs a long time ago. He dropped a frog in a pot of boiling water. The frog immediately jumped out. He then placed a frog in a pot full of cold water; the frog settled down comfortably. The Brahmin then began raising the temperature of the water gradually, over many hours. The frog kept adapting to the increasingly warm and then hot water till it finally died, without making any attempt to escape.’
Shiva, Sati and Kartik listened in rapt attention.
‘Naga students learn this story as a life lesson,’ said Ganesh. ‘Often, our immediate reaction to a sudden crisis helps us save ourselves. Our response to gradual crises that creep up upon us, on the other hand, may be so adaptive as to ultimately lead to self-destruction.’
‘Are you suggesting that the Vayuputras keep adapting to the incremental ill-effects of the Somras?’ asked Kartik. ‘That the bad news is not emerging rapidly enough?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Ganesh. ‘For I refuse to believe that the Vayuputras, the people of Lord Rudra, would consciously choose to let Evil live. The only explanation is that they genuinely believe the Somras is not evil.’
‘Interesting,’ said Shiva. ‘And, perhaps you are right too.’
Sati chipped in with a smile, almost as if to lighten the atmosphere. ‘But do you really believe the frog experiment?’
Ganesh smiled. ‘It is such a popular story around here that I’d actually tried it, when I was a child.’
‘Did you really boil a frog slowly to death? And it sat still all the while?’
Ganesh laughed. ‘Maaaaa! Frogs don’t sit still no matter what you do! Boiling water, cold water or lukewarm water, a frog always leaps out!’
The family of the Mahadev laughed heartily.
Shiva and Sati were exiting the Panchavati Rajya Sabha, having just met with the Naga nobility. Many of the nobles were in agreement with Queen Kali, who wanted to attack Meluha right away and destroy the evil Somras. But some, like Vasuki and Astik, wanted to avoid war.
‘Vasuki and Astik genuinely want peace. But for the wrong reasons,’ said Shiva, shaking his head. ‘They may be Naga nobility, but they believe that their own people deserve their cruel fate, because they are being punished for their past-life sins. This is nonsense!’
Sati, who believed in the concept of karma extending over many births, could not hold back her objection. ‘Just because we don’t understand something doesn’t necessarily mean it is rubbish, Shiva.’
‘Come on, Sati. There is only this life; this moment. That is the only thing we can be sure of. Everything else is only theory.’
‘Then why were the Nagas born deformed? Why did I live as a Vikarma for so long? Surely it must be because in some sense we’d deserved it. We were paying for our past-life sins.’
‘That’s ridiculous! How can anyone be sure about past-life sins? The Vikarma system, like every system that governs human lives, was created by us. You fought the Vikarma system and freed yourself.’
‘But I didn’t free myself, Shiva. You did. It was your strength. And all the Vikarmas, including me, were set free because that was your karma.’
‘So how does this work?’ asked Shiva disbelievingly. ‘That the compounded totality of sins committed by all the Vikarma over their individual previous lives was nullified at the stroke of a quill when I struck down this law? On that fateful day, in a flash, several lifetimes of sins sullying every Vikarma soul were washed away? A day of divine pardon, indeed!’
‘Shiva, are you mocking me?’
‘Would I ever do that, dear?’ asked Shiva, but his smile gave him away. ‘Don’t you see how illogical this entire concept is? How can one believe that an innocent child is born with sin? It’s clear as daylight: a new-born child has done no wrong. He has done no right either. He has just been born. He could not have done anything!’
‘Perhaps not in this life, Shiva. But it’s possible that the child committed a sin in a previous life. Perhaps the child’s ancestors committed sins for which the child must be held accountable.’
Shiva was unconvinced. ‘Don’t you get it? It’s a system designed to control people. It makes those who suffer or are oppressed, blame themselves for their misery. Because you believe you are paying for sins committed either in your own previous lives or those committed by your ancestors, or even community. Perhaps even the sins of the first man ever born! The system therefore propagates suffering as a form of atonement and at the same time does not allow one to question the wrongs done unto oneself.’
‘Then why do some people suffer? Why do some get far less than what they deserve?’
‘The same reason why there are o
thers who get far more than what they deserve. It’s completely random.’
Shiva gallantly reached out to help Sati mount her steed but she declined and gracefully slid onto the stallion. Her husband smiled. There was nothing he loved more than her intense sense of self-sufficiency and pride. Shiva leapt onto his own horse and with a quick spur matched Sati’s pace.
‘Really, Shiva,’ said Sati, looking towards him. ‘Do you believe that the Parmatma plays dice with the universe? That we are all handed our fate randomly?’
The Nagas on the road recognised Shiva and bowed low in respect. They didn’t believe in the legend of the Neelkanth, but clearly, their queen respected the Mahadev. And that made most Nagas believe in Shiva as well. He politely acknowledged every person even as he replied to Sati without turning. ‘I think the Parmatma does not interfere in our lives. He sets the rules by which the universe exists. Then, He does something very difficult.’
‘What?’
‘He leaves us alone. He lets things play out naturally. He lets His creations make decisions about their own lives. It’s not easy being a witness when one has the power to rule. It takes a Supreme God to be able to do that. He knows this is our world, our karmabhoomi,’ said Shiva, waving his hand all around as though pointing out the land of their karma.
‘Don’t you think this is difficult to accept? If people believe that their fate is completely random, it would leave them without any sense of understanding, purpose or motivation. Or why they are where they are.’
‘On the contrary, this is an empowering thought. When you know that your fate is completely random, you have the freedom to commit yourself to any theory that will empower you. If you have been blessed with good fate, you can choose to believe it is God’s kindness and ingrain humility within. But if you have been cursed with bad fate, you need to know that no Great Power is seeking to punish you. Your situation is, in fact, a result of completely random circumstances, an indiscriminate turn of the universe. Therefore, if you decide to challenge your destiny, your opponent would not be some judgemental Lord Almighty who is seeking to punish you; your opponent would only be the limitations of your own mind. This will empower you to fight your fate.’